#and today im doing yoga to help with everything. and im just hoping for a lot. it's been a long fucking week. wish me luck

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Unfortunately sometimes I know what will fix me and then I just don't do it. Anyway

[mortallyandrogynoussheep]

wassup, im back with (posting about) trying to get my life back together

i didnt quit the 100 days of struggling, or whatever, i was really just, well, struggling. to be alive, i guess.

yesterday was the peak of me feeling the most unstable over the last week or two, i think it was mostly due to my period being around the corner, so hormones are going crazy and you know the old shenanigan of - you know that your period is coming, when you start feels borderline suicidal and depressed.

ngl, it was scary as hell, because i think it was 40/60 of why i was feeling so down - 40 being the initial struggle, 60 being the fear coming from "i dont want for things to scale back to how they once were". because how they once were is best described the one sinlge word - hell.

anyway, the drama aside, i am now feeling much much better, thankfully, and i have a more positive outlook on life. at least for now.

so, we're missing the days from the 4th of July. insert the eagle scream. i will try to recount them from my memory to the best of my abilities, more so for myself and to keep track of days.

3/100 days of getting my life back together

Friday, July 5, 2024

quite frankly, I don't remember where the day went. i looked around for some notes or whatever else scattered in my place and im not sure what exactly was i doing. the only highlight of that day, was that i finally payed off the first paying for my dentist check and i think that is the most information I have. i think i woke up at 2:30 pm, so that would explain the short day. i remember studying a little bit in the evening and it probably was the software engineering notes, aka SE, since i think i was studying in bed and i do notes for se on my tablet.

4/100 days of getting my life back together

Saturday, July 6, 2024

on this day i met up with my friends for some socialization, i guess. we talked and had some boba. i studied on my way there and back, which came up to about an hour of studying in total. the rest of the day is, again, a mystery to me. maybe i should start keeping a journal to help myself. because i freaking bought one on that day fdskflsd

5/100 days of getting my life back together.

Sunday, July 7, 2024

okay, here i was really happy, because for the first time in weeks i managed to not only wake up at 8 am, but also went to bed somewhere between 22-23 at the clock. granted, i fell asleep an hour later, after i woke up, because i was suddenly hit with a wave of sleepiness and tiredness, but, i guess, one small step at a time. i mean it did fuck up my sleeping schedule for today, because i ended falling asleep somewhere between 2 and 3 am, but we have what we have.

the highlight of yesterday was finally finishing up a job i was postponing for MONTHS, which was printing out all the documents we would need, for my mom to apply for a job. i won't be going into too much details of why and etc, but yeah. at the end of the day i had 8 copies of 4 documents printed out, and was feeling more or less good about it.

at the second 4 copies batch printer decided to start playing games, and first chewed on the paper it was printing, and then i decided to try a new approach to try to speed things up, but it only ended up damaging one of the copies, so i had to redo that. but at the end of the day, the job was done.

i didn't study at all that day, because as i said at the start of this post - this was the day, when my head decided, that it's a great time to go sad-mode.

i also started taking some vitamins that have been laying around for a few months now, because i feel really crappy and i need some help, that maybe they can provide, before i get my eating habbits and everything else back in place. for now i am hoping they could be my crutches.

oh, and also i did some yoga to stretch my body. nothing huge, but i guess it's something good?

6/100 days of getting my life back together

Monday, July 8, 2024

and now we are back to present day. woke up at about 11:30 or so. played a little bit of guitar for the first time since MONTHS, i started learning the scientist, we'll see how it goes. i figured to reward myself, i would put a new fun sticket on it, if i finished learning it.

anyway, it is now 15:35 as i am writing this, i will be now cleaning up a little bit and getting back to studying.

DB 4 (finish up)

SE 4 (finish up)

DB 5

SE 5

[m1ckeyb3rry]

KIRA’ S HERE 💪 W/ AN UPDATE

okay sooooooo i went to the gym today 🥳 so i normally do 3 incline for the treadmill and thought that i could handle going from 3 to 10 😭 stupid ik, 🫠 my legs are so sore and I’m slowly gonna build up now 😭 normally i would but i was feeling like extra awesome so….

I did weights too! Which I normally don’t do pretty proud of myself :D I did sets of squats + Russian twists w/ weights- then I did that 3 sets of one glute machine :) gotta grow that bootie 💪

And I did stretch 😌

And also pretty proud that i ordered this green drink w/ like spinach n shit ?? I hate greens so much omg- I honestly have the pallet of a toddler 🫠😭 It was pretty good though??? and I had wings for lunch ! I wanted a sandwich but im tryna stay away from carbs rn😭

Well this was my official first day of the rest of my life and came to tell you 😽

hope you don’t mind me slipping in ur asks every now and then :3

HIII OMG YAYY UPDATE TIME!!

HAHA yess it’s def tough working up to it…when i first started i would only spend a couple of minutes at the 12 incline and the rest at 6-8ish?? doing it kind of in intervals where you disperse shorter bursts of the higher incline with a majority at a more comfortable incline might help you progress to being consistent at the higher incline quicker because it lets your body adjust without pushing it too hard 🤔 tbh there’s still days when i only go up to the 15 incline for like the first 5-10 mins and then spend the rest of my cardio time in like the 8-10 range so i can answer emails or asks on my phone because lowkey the treadmill is kinda boring sometimes 😭

AHHH I’M SO PROUD LOOK AT YOU GOOO you will be a weightlifting pro in no time 🤩 LMAOAOA omg that’s so real though glutes forever (side note but for the longest time my mother would get rdls [as in romanian deadlifts] confused with bbls so she’d be like “did you do your bbls at the gym today ☺️” and i’d just be like “well…close enough…they ARE building that area so 🤷🏻‍♀️” HAHA it’s actually insane though what working out your glutes will do for you!! it’ll help w incline walking too everything is so interconnected it’s crazy)

HOORAY stretching ftw hehe it’s my favorite part of my workout…idk if you’ve heard that one tik tok sound where that guy goes “it’s like a reward” but that’s literally my mindset 😩 like okay if i can do one more set of squats then i can go do yoga 🤩

THAT SOUNDS YUMMYYY and dw you’re not alone i am such a picky eater too but in weird ways??? like i can’t stand blueberries on their own but i can’t eat yogurt if i don’t put blueberries in it 😓 (another side note but a more relevant one…greek yogurt is like the number one post gym snack because it has sm protein without being super heavy!! i always put chia seeds flax seeds fruit and occasionally honey in mine but you can kinda experiment w what you like…provided you’re not allergic to milk or smth ofc) honestly i think a lot of it also comes down to preparation so even if you don’t like a food in one way (like spinach in a salad for example) you might like it prepared in a diff way (ex a smoothie) ☝🏻 sometimes we must be creative in order to get our nutrients in LOLOL worst comes to worst there’s no shame in busting out the blender 🤩

I HOPE IT DIDN’T FEEL TOO HORRIBLE OR RESTRICTIVE OR ANYTHING!! just remember everything in moderation even things that people are like “no if you eat this you will never lose weight blah blah” because that’s not actually true HAHA you can eat anything and lose weight — no food is inherently bad it’s just how you view it!! ofc some have more nutrients and keep you full for longer so that’s always good to consider but i remember when i was really trying to lose weight i would leave a little buffer so i could eat takis every night 😭 and i still lost weight even w that SO it is possible and def losing weight shouldn’t be a cause of misery or make you feel like you can’t eat anything at all!! there’s 100% a balance between choosing a healthier option and sometimes just realizing it’s okay to indulge every now and again too 🤫 especially because eating in moderation instead of cutting out completely is the best way to avoid binge eating!!

OMG PLEASE ALWAYS FEEL FREE TO DROP ASKS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING whether it’s abt the gym or fandoms (as i’m sure you can tell i’m in quite a few myself 😰) or real life or wtvr 💖 i loveee talking to people HAHA truly the best part of tumblr is how interactive it is!!

[whatifiwasahorsegirl]

2025, June 02 Monday

Im waking up missing her today. I'm trying my best to interpret these feelings instead of run from them. Surely I can act on them like I do with feelings when I clean my room or do yoga. But I'm not sure what that action looks like. I can't talk to her about any of it, that would be encroaching on the silently agreed upon "break" and would put these feelings in her hands when they are my own to deal with. I thought about doing art, depressing art. I thought about booting up some of the old games I streamed for her and doing studies from them. That could be a moody outlet. I'd stream it too for funsies. The other thing I thought of is that maybe this is my body's way of saying I really should just drop it and allow myself to focus on other things. Sometimes I feel like I could will this despair away if only I'd allow myself. My body could be saying "yes, you can put down this painful experience. Please, I am hurting." Its a fine line between doing that and actively suppressing though. I don't want to numb myself or forget. I want to process. But I cannot process this all the time. It has a time and place like everything else I imagine.

_____

Right now I realize just how traumatized I really am. I read this trauma book for book club awhile back and even then I knew it was highly relevant to me. But on a second read, I don't feel bad or out of place using the word trauma to describe what I've been experiencing for years and years. Its taken different forms over the years.

These days I am caught up in interpersonal related emotions. Sometimes it feels like anything and everything will remind me of how DC has hurt me and the ways I felt like I could do nothing about it. I frequently relive memories and sensations. The thing is though, it's not her. She isn't the core problem. The problem is that I didn't feel like I had agency with her. I allowed her to degrade my sense of self in ways she probably never knew about. I couldn't stand up for myself around her. Partly because I learned to fear confrontation and partly because I didn't know what I was feeling in the first place. I ignored SO much emotional pain for her.

If I dig deeper I know this pattern arose much earlier in my life. I think in some ways I used DC to relive the dynamic I had with my mom or maybe other women of authority. If that is the origin of my trauma and it never got processed, I see it likely that I became attracted to DC in part because I was trying to relive and process that trauma. Or because she reminded me of the familiar. It's all I ever knew really.

That why yoga and mindfully cleaning my room has helped so much lately. They are small activities that grant me agency AND allow me to monitor how I feel. Art has done the same thing for me at times. Tonight I really grasped what it means for the emotional brain to take over and the physical way it does that in relation to the rest of your brain and body.

_____

You know, sometimes I forget how traumatic my online relationship with CC was back when I was 17. It also always feels like I was actually 16. The breakup with her is what sent me into questioning my gender and sexuality for a time. It's when I started becoming attracted to men more and led to my bisexuality. I think this needs more looking into. I'd like to remember how that dynamic functioned.

_____

My brain was out of it today. I had trouble drawing and socializing and just forming words while alone. I finished my bomb ass chili for breakfast. While cooking rice a roni for lunch, I determined it was finally time to get a new pan since this one is sticking as if it's not a non-stick. I hope I can treat the next one better and get more life out of it. I dont like the idea of buying a new pan every couple years. I think the problem with this one was using it to cook literally everything and sometimes subjecting it to too high of heat. I had a hard time focusing during yoga and cleaning today but I felt better after doing both. I joined the Fxhole group again and tried to help them with artillery. Since I was feeling weird today, I felt awkward and like I was imposing since I didn't know how to do anything. Before bed I settled down by reading my trauma book.

[dumbbitchfrommars]

i could keep writing, and writing and writing. but a lot of it would be complaints. is that acceptable, universe? or will you continue to punish me (will i continue to punish me?)

i received so much pure, sweet love and kindness today. it fills me... or it used to fill me. now im running on empty. and i know its because no ones love matters more than my own, but i just cant seem to find it anymore. it used to come easily. but its gone... someone took it.

yes, i feel like the world is always against me. yes, im a fucking pessimist. i try, and i try, and still i always revert back to my pessimistic, negative thinking ways. is it a fucking crime? what about something called REALITY? i cant sit here and pretend everything is perfect when life continues to fucking beat me down, and people take advantage of my kindness and open heart, and sap me and drain me and run me dry.

"be yourself". YOURE TRYING TO PROVOKE ME, YOU DUMB BITCH, AND IM SICK OF YOUR VICTIMLESS WAYS. IM SICK OF YOU. I CANT ESCAPE YOU. IM SO ANGRY AT YOU. IM SO DONE.

i wish i could scream, or cry, or anything. im numb. ive flattened myself down to the point of barely even existing, because no matter what i do, someone is going to criticise and villainise me for it.

i have wondered, honestly, maybe im not for this world. maybe im supposed to leave before i can do much else with my life, because my work isnt in this world but in the metaphysical.

im so lost, im alone in this, and i have always been, and i enjoy that. i revel in it, i love it. my solitude is my power, its where i feel safe and protected, its where no one can hurt me. but... i cant seem to reach myself. no matter how much space i take its never enough. and something has got to give, im losing myself, im losing my strength, im frustrated, im sad, i feel so weak and powerless.

and im just so ANGRY. theres so much rage coiled up inside of me, and im trying to regulate myself, i am. ive been moving my body. maybe its compensation, for all the time ive spent at a standstill? maybe i need to keep pushing more and more, and ill finally reach a breaking point? cause ive been walking, running, climbing, working out, even yoga. its never enough. so much hard techno. so much anger. so. much. anger.

i also, recently, have been wanting to disappear. i want to be a wallflower. i want to walk this world unnoticed. invisible. and yet, im like the fucking sun. wherever i go, stares. i catch people watching me. im a fucking clown on a stage, and i never catch a break. i dont get privacy until im here, alone, in my bed and in my room. its fucked. i want to cover myself in a big oversized hoodie and hide under my sunglasses, and i want to cease to exist. but apparently thats not what god has planned for me...

maybe the lesson here is learning to love the attention ive been plagued with for a lifetime? even as a baby... i remember it. being in my pram and being stared at. its why ive always had anxiety.

i want to cry. i wish i could just cry once. one more time. i remember, years ago, i would cry almost every night. missing my old life, grieving the friends id lost, my first boyfriend. it was so healing, i knew i was processing it all, it felt fucking amazing. now its all bottled up inside of me and doesnt want to come out. what was it eckhart tolle called emotions? a way for the ego to convince us that we are unhappy. an addiction, truly. im addicted to chaos of my emotional world.

i need help to sort it all out. i need a filing cabinet for my emotions. because its a complete mess in here. and im becoming more and more miserable for it. anyway, i think that was the best i could do today. i hope you enjoyed my negative spiral (for the 20 millionth time, sorry tumblr)

[th-inprogress]

I started my fast wed night, probably around 7:30 or 8 pm. It’s now Friday morning at 7 am, so around 36 hours. I slept like shit but I’m proud of myself for persevering and not getting up to snack in the middle of the night. I’m waiting a bit for my coffee + morning nicotine gum to flush me out before I weigh again but im so hoping it’s under 125 so I can eat a little today. I’ve decided that 125 is my “stop eating” weight. and I’m going to weigh myself more often to help that matter. Probably gonna get back into the morning routine of weighing every day. I was too ashamed to log it when I was 128 the other day, although I weighed a few hours later and I was back down to 126 ish. And nothing motivates me like a really quick drastic drop in weight. also after the first horrible 24 hours of fasting, it really becomes quite physically tolerable in my experience, as long as you stay hydrated. If I am under 125 I’m going to allow myself breakfast at least. Prob just some cucumbers and this chickpea slop I made a few days ago. But I’m feeling scared that I may not be there. Or if I am it’s all dehydration bc I have not been drinking enough water. Anyhow. It doesn’t matter too much really. If I am, I eat and I eat mindfully and stop before I’m full. If I’m not I eat nothing for another day and I go for a run and I do my yoga and I walk and work to get there. I do everything w joy and gratitude.

[tianamarieg]

2/16/24

wow tumblr. reading all this old stuff makes me cringe. me in my 20s was riddled with insecurities but also a lot of "i'm not like other girls" vibes. but i do see someone who really wanted to be loved under all of that. i was sure id be single for life, but i've been in a relationship for over 9 years now. you really think you are sure of shit in your 20s. but in your 30s your realize you dont know anything and, you along with everyone else, are just going through life one day at a time hoping for the best.

im one year sober (from everything!) tomorrow. i got help and got my shit together and im happy about it but also realize anything can happen and i dont know what the future will bring me. just again, hoping i continue to make the healthier choices, and if i dont i remember quickly what it feels like to be in the dark and remember the tools i acquired to get back out of that funk.

in recovery they say you recover your inner child, or your true self. i feel that. i feel more like myself in high school, before i drank or used. i truly am an introvert. i like being alone and doing things alone, but i also realize the value of connection. its important to have relationships with other people. i am learning to be comfortable with being uncomfortable and to socialize without the substances. it drains my social battery pretty quickly but i also accepted that this is okay, and its okay to leave the party as early as i need instead of forcing myself to sit through something that clearly isnt for me anymore.

i bake! for someone who wasnt a big fan of sweets, i've taken to baking pretty quickly. im also pretty good at it. who would have thought?

im also into yoga. i thought it was just stretching and boring but its so much more and i have barely scratched the surface of it.

i have been reading again but right now its mostly of the nonfiction variety. my book collection is increasing though which is nice.

i exercise a lot. i jog, walk, do strengthening videos, and the yoga as mentioned. i also eat healthy ish. i dont deprive myself but i do loosely calorie count and dont binge like i used to, but i still love food. i just learned to have a healthier relationship with food. i still dont eat meat but will try it if it looks good.

im still emotionally stunted but im trying to unlearn unhealthy behaviors and thought processes. i have a long way to go and know all this is pretty much a lifelong deal, i just hope again that things go as smoothly as they can with what i'm given at the time.

i still dont have children and still dont want any. i am not married and have no interest in it. but i have my long term partner and things are content. im okay with that in life today.

im 35 now and things arent perfect and they never will be. i cried in the dark yesterday because my anxiety and depression has been so bad, but i also remembered that none of it is permanent. my feelings will pass, and luckily i have healthy habits in place that keep me on track. vulnerability is still hard for me but im learning that its okay to not be okay, but also that its okay to be okay.

[krs724490]

10/30/2023

talk to gabby and come back. a sister. someone who sees, someone who can give me the energy I couldnt give to myself sitting up in my room. thank you for sending her. whoever you are, whatever you are, your intelligence, your grace amazes me. tonight it was her. she was the soft light that illuminated my darkness. tomorrow ill dress as a mermaid. ill wear rosie's leggings and gabby's accessories. all banded together to make the most perfect outfit. one that I can show up in fully. one that illustrates the magic of the world. a mermaid. my favorite mythical creature. symbolic of the world beyond. I get to be her tomorrow. I get to step into her. when I cant see straight, my friends are there to lean on. what a gift. to help dress me to be the mermaid I hope to me. my highest self is a mermaid, she's a fairy, shes a woman of nature. today was hard, but I know tomorrow I will be just fine. I will tip myself in the direction of the narrative I'm praying for, knowing that it is also praying for me.

Its a beautiful myth. An incredible fairytale. One that is so out of this world. Its the tale of a young girl. Born of a filipino father, who is oddly both hard and soft. Who put a tint on her childhood of malice. Feeling like a bit like Cinderella, "write a list of everything I've done for you.. and then tell me you wont go grab me a pepsi from the basement fridge." One stand out night of absolute terror and yelling and running to Sydney's room. My mom holding us, my dad manipulating us to turn us against our mother. Abuse. Begging my mom not to call the police. I've seen the photo of the bruise. I dont know where I found it, but the image of my mom's face is burned in my brain. The yellowish, green bruise staining the side of her face. The way my dad drove us to Eric's house to show us my mom's car parked outside of it, it still had our window paint all over it - decorated for the jonas brothers concert. The way he made us call her and ask her where she was. She lied and said she was at the farmer's market and we cried the whole way home. My mother is my hero. No human on this planet could ever. ever. top my mother. Mimi I know you're here too. Thank you, thank you for her. My mother's heart and mind are the most magical combination, the most amazing concoction of human parts. She is incredible. She did her absolute best. and she succeeded even she she probably couldnt see a way through. this is the strongest testament to human's growing toward the sun that I can see. over time, through it all, she persisted. with no father present, only a loving mother who also had to do it all. my family is no stranger to hardship. she brought a man into our lives when we were little. the one thing she did for herself. the one thing she would not budge on. he saved her. she knew he would and he did. so she did what she needed to do to take care of herself, thats the only time she ever stood up for herself. the only time she took what she wanted and didn't put others first. im proud of her for that. even though I was caught in the crossfire, I'm proud of her for that. the one decision she made for herself. I suppose as women we all hit a certain crossroads, where we can no longer bare the weight of listening to other people about what we should do and who we should be. we must heed to the call within and stand our ground. this is where I come from. this is where the tale begins. this beautiful, broken, but over time soft and loving place. in the southeast corner of the mitten.

im not going to pretend to know what I was like as a toddler. the only distinct, possibly significant part of my childhood was living in sydney's shadow. in this tale, the tale I told myself at that time, I was the less impressive, less responsible, rebellious, artistic child. the story I told myself is the only one that matters because it framed my reality, the way I felt about myself.

I discovered yoga when I was in high school. I had the most incredible teachers. it allowed me to tap into the power that can be accessed through spirit, through the body, it gave me a glimpse into things bigger. I look back and I see a naive, young soul. In the most beautiful way, I believed whole heartedly in the teachings. I made them me. My identity, who I was - introducing yogikelsey. I felt so connected at that time, with the way I was able to navigate pleasures, physical pleasures - food. I believed in nourishing myself and so I did in the best way I knew how and it wasn't difficult mentally. I was confused as to how people did find it difficult, I looked down upon those who had no self control. No willpower. I thought them lesser. On the mental level of desire, I was still such a dreamer. I let boys run away with my mind. I followed what I thought was a good path for me, trying to compromise between what I wanted for myself (being creative/artsy) and what the world was telling me to do (work a corporate job). My heart goes out to this girl. The one who loved boys. Who took so much pleasure in being what they needed. I wanted to be the one for each of them. I wanted to stay with them, I wanted to fulfill the role of dream girl for them, it was my favorite role to play. I loved to be admired in that way, but it was my own twisted game I played on myself. I changed myself to be their dream girl and then I wasn't myself. I lost myself and then I left because I was tired of being the girl they wanted me to be and I never offered them my real self and asked for acceptance. Gabby was right, I never offered them my real self because I didn't think that was good enough. I didn't accept myself. I wasn't confident in who I was. The finger gets pointed back at me. It is my responsibility to show Graham who I really am. I cannot bend myself to be who I think he wants me to be and then get upset about not being seen or understood. I must offer myself to him in an honest way.

this really is the root of it all. even my situation today. it is my lack of acceptance of the path. my lack of acceptance for what ive been through and the way the path has been laid. I've been fighting it. I've been fearing it. I've been ____ing it. I have not shown it full acceptance and love. I've seen it as an obstacle. There is still energy to be shifted around this and it doesn't happen overnight. I accept myself for what happened today. I love myself for what happened today. I see the intelligence behind the way situations were handled today. I turned to food because its the only thing I know, a substance that my whole body and my brain has been used to reaching for. I cannot hold it against myself. I cannot start a war inside of myself for something that was the only way today. The only way my poor system could cope. I love my body as it is, as it sits here and now. My body has been through the trauma of me stuffing it full and it has still rebounded time and time again. My body holds me even when I dont care or ask to be held. I have 4 limbs. I have good cardio. I feel vital. Its hard to think I could look upon this body with disdain. This body that has done so much for me. I shower it with love and understanding. I apologize to you body and to you the universe that gave it to me for ever objectifying you. for trying to morph and manipulate, for simplifying your presence as something for other people. for other people to see and judge me for. you are so much more than that. you are infintly more than that. you are my connection to this world. and I love you so much. Im so sorry I ever reduced your value to be anything less than completely miraculous. the way your natural processes keep me going to experience this life is something to be so cherished. In theory, people tell you to love your body and believe in yourself. and in theory, I believed them. but it wasn't a felt sense. it was known idea. today the pain point was lit up in neon lights. look here! more love here needed! please sit, please look at me. look at the unhealed wounds. hold them up and sing holy holy. my body was asking for more love. this whole time, my body was asking for more love.

[violetlilysunshine]

Make Me - 18+

Friends with Benefits Frat Harry Holland x Female Reader

Requested by @chalametsamour : Desperately yearning for frat!harry with the dialogue prompt “you can be louder than that” bc cockiness is so sexy and im yearning..

WC: 2,759

Warnings: swearing [quite a few f bombs], cocky Harry meets fluffy sweet Harry, quiet reader, pet names [love, my girl, my quiet girl, tiger, darling, baby], cheeky reader and Harry, teasing by both parties, tiny hint of possessive Harry, protected sex [p in v], multiple orgasms [fem receiving], marking [love bites, nail scratches], hint of cockwarming after the deed

A/N: So sorry this has been in my box for two months… and I know you don’t really do Holland stuff anymore but I still hope you like this :)

Also, it’s been a while since I wrote something in full! Hope it’s okay!

MASTERLIST - Join my TAGLIST

MINORS DNI

If you are choosing to continue reading below, you are saying that you are 18 years of age or older and therefore are consuming this content at your own risk. Warnings are listed above, so you can consume what you are comfortable with of course. If I find out that you are a minor consuming my 18+ content, you will be blocked and reported.

School is stressful. Everyone knows that. There’s quite a few different ways people choose to relieve stress; some run, others lift weights; some do yoga, others bike. You however have one guaranteed stress reliever - Harry fucking Holland. 

And you say “Harry fucking Holland,” because man does he deserve that name. 

He hit you up last weekend while you were studying for midterms before fall break. He texted saying, “need to relieve some stress yet?” 

You’d scoffed at his cockiness, yet it took everything in you not to answer and focus on studying. He’s been a very good stress reliever in the past and yeah, sure he could help now, but you really needed to focus. 

The next afternoon you got another text: “holding out on me, are you?” 

Again, you kept your head down and focused on the work. Yes, he’s the best lay you ever had, and yes, it would be fun, but you just have to make it through this week. 

And finally on Monday morning, with a nice change of pace he texted, “good luck, you’re gonna crush it!” bringing quite the smile to your face. 

Flash forward to now, you’re walking out of your last test; you let out a deep breath when you exit the stuffy building, the sun feeling nice on your face and giving you a little warmth against the crisp air. You decide to take a nice walk around campus and soak in the nature that you’ve been missing after locking yourself in the library for the past two weeks. 

You rounded the corner toward the grassy space where people usually sat to study outside, or occasionally tossed a frisbee; today you stumbled on a game of soccer going with some of the frat boys. None other than Harry stood at the other end of the field, looking right at you. 

There was a lull in the game, and Harry’s eyes found yours; a smile spread across his face at the sight of you and he quickly started jogging your way. You kept walking slowly, getting a bit closer to him but letting him do most of the work. 

“Oi! Where’re you going?” one of his friends called as he jogged past them.

He turned around and continued to jog backwards yelling, “catch you later, mate!” 

He finally fell in step beside you, his shoulder bumping yours as he nudged you to the middle of the path you were walking on.

“Well, hi there,” you smiled, trying your best to keep your hands to yourself and not tangle with his - no feelings, you’d agreed. 

“Hi there?” he questioned with a scoff, “that’s all you’ve got?” 

“What can I say?” you asked, keeping your smirk to yourself, “guess I’m just quiet.” 

“That you are, love,” he said, catching your smirk as it snuck its way out, “always have been.” His eyes darkened as he asked, “so, where are you headed?” 

“Home,” you answered with a genuine smile, “I finished my last test… I’ve got nowhere to be until tomorrow, how ever will I fill the time?” 

“I’ll help you fill something alright,” he growled, placing a hand on your lower back and pushing you to walk a little faster. 

You were soon just down the street from your apartment when an idea popped into your head, “hey Harry?” 

“Love?” 

“Last one there’s on top,” you said quickly, then took off running toward your apartment. 

He laughed loudly behind you, before jogging to catch up. He honestly didn’t know if he wanted to win or lose, more than happy to have you either way. And if he’s being really honest, he hadn’t exactly pictured any topping happening between the two of you… he didn’t even think you’d make it out of the entryway, when you got there.

He decided to let you win, stepping up right behind you as you touch the door. His hands come to rest on your hips and his face drops forward into your neck. He plants a sweet kiss against the skin there before his lips find your ear, “congratulations,” he whispers. 

You giggle and shiver at the sensation, fishing out your keys and opening the door.

The both of you stumble into the hallway and you drop your things off just inside the front door. He slips off his shoes immediately and peels off his hoodie. 

“Can I get you anything?” you ask gently, as you hang your coat on the hook.

“Just you,” he smiles, his cockiness returning at full force, “and if I remember correctly, I’m on top…” 

You giggle and feel your cheeks heating up, suddenly aware of your boldness earlier, not that you hadn’t meant everything you’d said. 

He rushed towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and sliding in as close as possible. He kissed at your neck again, brushing your hair behind your shoulders, “so uh, bed or couch?” 

“Wherever you want.” 

“Ah, dealer’s choice, eh?” he chuckles, dropping his hands to the backs of your thighs and scooping you up. 

He carried you down the hallway to your bedroom while you giggled in his ear, “so I guess you picked the bed.” 

He tossed you on the bed with a laugh, “that I did, love.” 

He quickly peeled his shirt over his head, dropping his shorts next and kicking off his socks.

“Not wasting any time either I see,” you teased him. 

“What happened to being quiet?” he chuckled, teasing you right back.

“Just can’t decide what you want today, can you?” you giggle, starting to peel off your leggings. 

He laughed, climbing between your legs and helping you to pull them and your fuzzy socks off, “it really wasn’t that cold out there,” he laughed.

“You were running! Playing soccer! That makes a difference!” 

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, “arms up.” 

You did as you were told and let him pull your sweater over your head. Thank god you’d put on your cute bra this morning… 

He smiled as your face came into view again, a glint in his eye as always; this time, however, you were picking up on a little something more. There was something in there you hadn’t seen before and you couldn’t quite put your tongue on it. 

He drank in your figure a little before slipping his finger under your bra strap and slowly sliding it down your shoulder. You nodded gently, knowing that he was asking for permission; he may be a frat boy but he’s always been much more gentlemanly than you’d expected one to be and you were eternally grateful for that.

He smiled as you reached around to unhook your bra and let him remove it from your body. He laid you down quickly, coming to straddle your hips as his mouth finally found yours.

He kissed you hard, his tongue poking out to swipe against your lips instantly. You let him explore your mouth happily, taking the time to run your hands along his back; you pressed your fingers into his shoulder blades, soothing the muscles there. He moaned in your mouth at the tiny massage, pulling back a second to whisper, “you’re good at that,” before continuing his exploration. Your hands smoothed down towards his boxers, playing with the band gently and he took the hint, pulling away again to quip, “who’s not wasting time now?”

You giggled, and he sat up to take off his last article of clothing. He slid in between your knees and slipped his thumbs in the waistband of your panites as well. 

“You too?” he asked.

You nodded and lifted your hips to help him take them off; they were quickly discarded on top of the pile next to his.

“Guess my quiet girl is back…” he smiled, hovering over you once again.

You giggled in response, your hands finding his backside and gently pulling him closer to you.

He laughed at your antics, “easy tiger, gotta get something first.”

You let out a breath and reached over into your nightstand to pull out a condom. He sat up the smallest bit and let you roll the rubber down his shaft. 

Once all the business was taken care of, he smiled at you again and settled into place. 

He spread your legs wider, bending your knees in towards your chest so he could settle between; “there we go,” he whispered as you gripped the backs of your thighs to hold them in place. 

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness, but you knew that without it, he wouldn’t be Harry.

He grabbed his cock in his hand, pumping a few times and lining up at your entrance; he tapped the head against your clit twice, causing you to jerk upwards. 

He laughed as a whimper fell from your lips; he started to run the head along your folds, partly to tease you and partly to make sure you were wet enough to take him without much foreplay. 

You whined a little bit, starting to rock your hips against his for more friction. He took your hint, chuckling and lining up with your entrance again.

“If it’s too much, let me know,” he whispered.

You scoffed, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him forward so his face is inches from yours, “get on with it, Holland,” you whispered into his mouth before attaching your lips to his. 

He smirked into the kiss, but obliged your request and pushed into you slowly. 

He pressed in fully, settling his hips flush to yours. He let a deep breath out against your lips as he pulled away. 

You let out a quiet moan, your head lolling back, and eyes remaining closed. 

He chuckled against your skin, pecking a kiss on your shoulder; one of his hands found its way to your face, brushing your hair back. “Hey,” he whispered gently.

You opened your eyes slowly, finding his gleaming back at you, “hmm,” you answered.

“Doin’ okay, love?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yeah, just need half a second,” you huffed out with a laugh. 

“Alright,” he smiled, his fingers still brushing at your hair, “let me know.” 

You smiled at him, your eyes fluttering closed again for a second as you took in a deep breath. He rested inside of you, waiting for the go ahead. 

His eyes scanned over your face, taking in every detail of you. 

“Go on,” you whispered, eyes finally popping open again. 

He moved his hand away from your face, resting it beside your head for better leverage. He pulled out slowly, before sinking back in with a snap.

You moaned lightly, relishing in the feeling of him against you again. 

“You know,” he laughed gently, “you can be louder than that,” he smiled cockily. 

You let out a breath of air with a small laugh in response, “make me.” 

He growled at that, bending forward the rest of the way and nipping at the skin of your neck gently. 

“Trust me, love, I will.” 

He pulled his hips back, almost the entirety of his length slipping out of you, before he slammed in again with fervor. He set a punishing pace, snapping his hips to yours harshly and pulling moan after moan from your mouth. His fingers started toying with your clit quickly, pulling you so much closer to your first orgasm. 

You moaned again and again, getting louder with each thrust. A series of “Harry,” and “oh my god,” and “just like that,” falling from your lips.

He slowed his pace after a while, easing his length in and out of you, his fingers still working their magic on your bundle of nerves; he sat back on his knees, looking down over you. You found his eyes again as he said, “there’s the sounds I was looking for,” and dropped you a wink. 

You giggled for a half a second before he hit that spot in you just right and at exactly the same time his fingers strummed over that special spot. All of that combined sent you skyrocketing over the edge.

You let out your loudest moan as he slowly pumped you through your orgasm. He pulled one of your legs up to rest on top of his shoulder; he watched you with that glint in his eye for who knows how long while you came back to center. When you finally opened your eyes again, he pressed a kiss to your shin.

You smiled up at him, feeling something more for a second. His little peck wasn’t something he’s ever done before, but you secretly had been dying for. You only got to think about it for a few seconds before he hit your spot just right again, pulling another moan from your mouth as you started towards your second orgasm. 

He smiled again looking over you, “already going for a second there are you?” 

You rolled your eyes again and purposefully clenched around him. 

He moaned loudly, getting close to finishing, “not fair, darling.” 

You laughed at him, “finish it then.”

He pulled your other leg over his other shoulder, leaning forward and balancing his weight on his hands next to your head. He picked up the pace again, this time working back up to the one you’d had before. 

“Rub your clit, baby, c’mon,” he breathed against your skin, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

You snaked your hand between your bodies, doing exactly as he asked. The added stimulation bringing you to the edge again quickly. 

“C’mon, almost there?” he asked, “can’t hold it much longer…”

You moaned in his ear, “just a little more... please don’t stop, Har...” 

He sunk his teeth into your neck to try and ground himself and stave off his orgasm just a little longer.

His mark on your skin sent you falling over the edge, moaning in his ear again and clawing at his back with your free hand.

He fell over as well, feeling your nails in his skin, panting in his ear, and your walls gripping him tighter than ever before. His lips found yours again, locking them together and sealing you both into the moment. 

He gradually brought the both of you down from your highs, slowing his hips to a stop. 

You stayed moulded like that for a few minutes, relishing in each others’ tastes and calming your senses. You gently removed your hand from yourself, placing it on the small of his back and pulling his body just that much closer to yours. He pulled away from the kiss gently, finding your eyes again.

You breathed deeply, moving to brush a few stray curls off his forehead; you searched his eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking as there was that hint of something you’re unfamiliar with in there. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes - just looking at each other, both of you trying to talk with your eyes. 

Before too long, you needed to move, “pull out please?” you asked, starting to get uncomfortable with him still inside you.

He hurried to oblige, whispering, “sorry, love,” and stepping off of you. 

He padded into the bathroom and discarded the condom; he grabbed a cloth from the cabinet, wetting it and bringing it back to clean you up. He took care of that, then hung it over the side of the tub to dry and headed back to your room. You smiled as he entered, sitting up to put some clothes on again as you shivered. 

He stepped into his shorts again, slipping on his shirt. He raced to the door again, grabbing his hoodie and bringing it back to you. You’d just stepped into fresh panties when he came through the door; he brought it in and slipped it over your head. 

He pulled your hair out the back, brushing it flat and off your face again.

“Hi,” he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks.

“What’s up with you?” you asked with a smile, enjoying this very boyfriend-y behavior. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’d started falling for him a while ago, wishing that he would finally ask for more than sex, but you weren’t putting your eggs in that basket and letting yourself get too attached yet. 

“Would you want to have dinner with me?” he asked bluntly, sliding his hands down your arms and tangling with yours. 

You blushed at the invitation, finally getting what you’d been hoping for, “I would love to have dinner with you.”

Taglist:  @a-daydreamers-day @spider-barnes @hogwartsmarvelmommy @tulipholland @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cupids-crystals @sunwardsss @bvttercupbby @mcushvft @elishi03 @golden-hoax @mistakenpersonn @cedricdiggorysimpp @multixfandomwriter @wildxwidow @petesrparker @delightfulmuffinclamauthor @ambinxe 

Bonus tag: @thegirlintheswivelchair

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat. 

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family. 

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other. 

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her. 

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble. 

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju. 

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.” 

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well. 

Maybe a little too well. 

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves. 

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow. 

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?” 

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?” 

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” 

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo. 

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast. 

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap. 

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words: 

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.” 

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night. 

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.  

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice. 

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real. 

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length. 

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life. 

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.” 

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset. 

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.  

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.” 

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.  

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love. 

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style. 

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out. 

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep. 

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day. 

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe. 

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom. 

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today. 

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.” 

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—” 

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up. 

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook. 

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better. 

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back. 

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back. 

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal. 

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.” 

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel. 

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire. 

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle. 

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.” 

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already. 

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.” 

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?” 

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.” 

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway. 

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.” 

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.” 

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.  

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.” 

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?” 

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.” 

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”  

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open. 

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect. 

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse. 

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?” 

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.” 

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you. 

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.” 

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook. 

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?” 

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you. 

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out. 

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his  cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.” 

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776. 

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted. 

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is. 

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge. 

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships. 

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar. 

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.  

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red. 

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten. 

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft. 

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.” 

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath. 

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.” 

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.” 

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?” 

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.” 

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple. 

“You miss her?” 

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 

“Did you talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix. 

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.” 

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.” 

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.” 

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special? 

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?” 

“What?” 

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.” 

“But it works!” 

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.” 

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.” 

“Bumble.” 

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help." 

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are. 

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun. 

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.” 

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.” 

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world. 

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours. 

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt. 

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid. 

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all. 

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on. 

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck. 

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room. 

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear. 

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.” 

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo. 

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table. 

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that. 

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination. 

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.” 

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.” 

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 

Or are you? 

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out. 

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?” 

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”  

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids. 

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat. 

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.” 

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.” 

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?” 

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi. 

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you. 

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint. 

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation. 

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse. 

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?” 

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!” 

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger. 

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once. 

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps. 

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it. 

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck. 

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.” 

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab. 

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers. 

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters. 

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly. 

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly. 

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late. 

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.” 

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.” 

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen. 

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case. 

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.” 

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen. 

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you. 

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.” 

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.” 

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?” 

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room. 

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry. 

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes. 

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper. 

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile. 

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow. 

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom. 

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.  

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now. 

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists. 

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine. 

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?” 

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.” 

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey. 

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?” 

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide. 

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?” 

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out. 

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.” 

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.” 

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble. 

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?” 

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine. 

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?” 

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare. 

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.” 

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back. 

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.” 

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?” 

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?” 

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you. 

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.” 

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.” 

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four. 

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.” 

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones. 

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.” 

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk. 

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—” 

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table. 

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?” 

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment. 

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.” 

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor. 

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?” 

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.” 

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener. 

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message. 

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.” 

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.” 

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about  Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.” 

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her. 

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning. 

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.” 

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue. 

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.” 

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late. 

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not. 

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.” 

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—” 

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—” 

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.” 

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.” 

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you. 

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace. 

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon. 

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly. 

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough? 

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets. 

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far. 

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things. 

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled. 

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship. 

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.” 

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night. 

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring. 

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob. 

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.” 

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel. 

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in. 

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it. 

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.  

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home. 

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think. 

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open. 

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again? 

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.” 

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?” 

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope. 

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?” 

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding. 

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.  

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.” 

“Only recently,” you frown. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ” 

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.” 

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?” 

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.” 

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!” 

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.” 

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.” 

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—” 

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!” 

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth. 

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow. 

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view. 

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.” 

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.” 

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.” 

 Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them? 

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.” 

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins. 

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree. 

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms. 

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not. 

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.” 

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep. 

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall. 

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan. 

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers. 

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?” 

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.” 

“But you still love him?” 

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered. 

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?” 

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.” 

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?” 

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.” 

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.” 

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides. 

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.” 

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper. 

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between. 

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you. 

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.” 

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.” 

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.” 

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now. 

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries. 

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when  you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame. 

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.” 

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter. 

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late. 

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup. 

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?” 

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.” 

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.” 

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?” 

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.” 

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.” 

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday. 

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories. 

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle. 

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story. 

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you. 

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?” 

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other. 

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.” 

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.” 

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste. 

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent. 

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.” 

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle. 

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.” 

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter. 

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college. 

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.” 

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?” 

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.” 

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.” 

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.” 

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing. 

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level. 

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him. 

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM. 

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 

“Huh?” 

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 

“Mean by what?” 

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 

“I wish you did, too.” 

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 

“Jungkook…” 

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 

“Jungkook—” 

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  

“Please, baby.” 

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 

“Then the hotel room?” 

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 

“You know I love you, right?” 

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  

[aphrodisiaac]

Manifestations🪷

This month I will cultivate a few things for myself to nurture my spirit and sense of self. These goals will be achieved to the best of my ability, and my life will flourish. I attract only the best of people, experiences, opportunities, and resources. Let us begin the attraction and manifestation of all things we wish to obtain and become. ~

💕 I lost 10-15 pounds. I did this in a healthy, forgiving way. I do this for my health and my own self love, and for nobody else. I love my body, and how strong and capable it is.

💕 I registered my car, and learned to drive stick shift regularly. Im able to take myself to and from work, and I love the new independence I have. I can go around the town as I please, and I can indulge whatever interests or opportunities come my way.

💕 I love putting myself out there and hanging out with new people, and I connect with my coworkers very well. We all get along, and we have lots of fun during our shifts.

💕 I love the way I look, and I know I’ve come a long way in accepting who I am. I have very interesting features, and I glow everywhere I go. People turn their heads to look at me, and I receive help and love easily. I am visually and spiritually like an angel. I am ephemeral, elegant, mysterious, and aloof. I give off an aura of otherworldly wisdom and beauty.

💕 I am focusing hard on school and my success. I love to get good grades and build my academic portfolio. I also love to learn things, and I feel more worldly with every new subject I study. I spend lots of time on projects, and truly connect with the material.

💕 I love going out and enjoying the world around me. Whether it’s going for a hike, visiting the library, or socializing at a club, I love to get out and meet new people/see the world. I trust that beautiful people and opportunities will meet with my energy.

💕 I am able to stand up for myself and what I desire. I am able to readily and confidently speak my mind, even if what I say may not be pleasing to the other person. Honesty is the best policy, and I show my true and authentic self to everyone I meet. Every vulnerability is a step to forgiving myself- and loving myself fully because of that forgiveness.

💕 I love and trust my boyfriend, and I am convinced that he loves me dearly. He goes out of his way constantly for me, and never hesitates to show his unwavering affection. I believe in his love, just as much as I believe in my love for him. 🥰

💕 I am a jack of all trades, and I enjoy giving my attention to multiple hobbies and skills at a time. I enjoy pole dancing for exercise, as well as yoga. Both endeavors have helped me with my flexibility. I love to sew, and recently I finished my first original embroidery. I am learning French, and am fairly intermediate. I draw, and make videos on a regular basis. I even love culinary arts, and I practice baking and cooking very often. I just made my first French boule bread loaf last month. I don’t limit myself to one hobby or passion, because I am limitless in my capacities.

💖 I am capable of healing, improving, and progressing with my life. My trauma does not define me, and has never defined me. I am a beautiful person, who contains multitudes. I have done bad things as everyone else has, and good things as well. I am neither a good nor bad person, but a person who simply tries to do what they think is best every day. I cant be perfect, but I can forgive myself for my mistakes. I can keep going, and keep trying everyday to be the best version of myself. I have done everything I could, and I trust myself to do the right thing.

I hope you take an opportunity today to affirm yourself, or write manifestations for yourself. To write a clear goal and intention can sometimes be all it takes to make a positive change. Everyone is capable of growth, but manifestation can lead to the outlook necessary to make real change. Take good care, and receive all that you deserve.

~ yours, one of the many daughters of Aphrodite 🪷

[eroticcannibal]

1of2)Protip from fellow POTSie (might b stuff u kno already but figure its worth mentioning jic, feel free 2 ignore if u dont want tips, no judgement), electrolytes &/or crisps (u need SALT, sum electrolyte drinks r BS abt having enough, pick w/e has the highest sodium), plus restorative yoga poses (easy one is flat on ur back (floor, bed, w/e) w/ ur legs straight up a wall. Might worsen reynauds symptoms if u get those (p common comorbid, ur feetll get rly cold) but it still usually helps me.

2of2)Smaller meals more often (reactive hypoglycemia, if ur looking 4 more info there) r better, & I find that weighted blankets & other deep pressure stims help 4 the shakiness (Halloween season I just put A Whole Pumpkin in my lap 4 a bit, chills me out). Best of luck on the dx! Im basically unmedicated cuz comorbid MCAD makes meds Risky. If it helps wrt the kiddo, it 4 most ppl it gets worse/starts in the teens/early 20s, so the test might b more conclusive later. Hope u feel better! -Bananon

---

Ooh some of this i know but there's def some new stuff ty! Im very much lacking on the salt because Money atm I might just down some table salt at this rate. Cannot afford electrolyte drinks (or any ive found anyway) and the child has dibs on crisps, I get the odd pack but nothing regular. The yoga is something I can do and me feet aint so cold as they used to be. Luckily this is a nibbling house so we are already on smaller frequent meals (by that I mean we just snack. A lot. These are not meals dhhdhdh). Think I might have to find something else weighted for downstairs or my gf might lose her damn mind with hauling my blanket downstairs on top of everything else sbhshsjsje

Nurse today did admit she dont know shit about POTS so next time I'll bring up the "hey it gets worse with age" thing and hopefully that will help swing a diagnosis if it still comes up a bit borderline.

[themintplumbobcc]

Really Random Legacy

Hi! I know this is a cc finds tumblr but I made this challenge today and I decided to show it. It is a five generation legacy but im willing to write five more gens. This challenge was inspired by the not so berry challenge but has nothing to do with berry sims! If you like this challenge let me know!

Really Random Legacy By TheMintPlumbob

Rules:

Have Normal Lifespan

You can use money cheats, except for gen 1

Can live wherever unless stated in rules

You can have pets, but there not required

You can adopt the heirs for the next generation

Gen 1: 

You are a sim who has always loved writing. You want to be a bestselling author, but you are erratic so you get distracted. You try to cope with this by meditating and doing yoga. You have 2 children and try and spend as much time as you can with them, but also make a lot of time for your spouse, career, and hobbies. You don't have a lot of friends but you have your two besties that you’ve been friends with since you were a young adult.

Aspiration: Best Selling Author

Career: Writer ( Author Branch)

Traits: Erratic, Family Oriented, Bookworm

Complete Best Selling Author Aspiration and reach level 10 of writer career

Have two kids

Master the writing and wellness skill

Besides spouse and kids, only have two best friends

Gen 2:

You had very supportive parents who always told you to follow your dreams but you don't know what your dream is. You know you want kids so you try babysitting as a teen, but don’t really like it. Then as a young adult, you try being an athlete because you were always athletic, but it doesn't feel right. So as an adult,  you finally find your passion as a secret agent. You have only one child by accident because you were always focused on work but you put all the effort you can into raising your child while trying to also be the life of the party.

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Babysitter, Athlete, Secret Agent

Traits: Non-Committal, Ambitious, Outgoing

Complete the party animal aspiration

Get to level 5 of the athlete career before quitting

Get to level 7 of the secret agent career

Only have one kid

Master the comedy skill

Never get married

Have at least one party a week

Gen 3:

You were only raised by one parent who was so busy that they never had time for you. You promised yourself that you would never raise your kids like that. In fact, you try and put everything into raising your kids. But as a teenager, you got into baking. You decide that you want to run a successful bakery and be a super parent. You have 4 kids and love them all equally. Even though you spend most of your time baking or with your kids, you still make time for your small friend group that have had since being a child.

Aspiration: Super Parent

Career: None just own a bakery

Traits: Foodie, Family Oriented, Neat

Complete the super parent aspiration

Run a successful bakery

Have 4 kids

Master the baking and parenting skills

Have four besties that you’ve had since you were a child

Gen 4:

You were raised by the best parents who accepted you no matter what. You spend a lot of time in your career as a tech guru that you don't think about love for a while, but you realize that your not interested in a relationship. You decide to adopt a baby and make them and your career your life. Even though your kid is your life, you still make time for your one best friend.

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Tech Guru

Traits: Geek, Slob, Unflirty

Complete the computer whiz aspiration and max the tech guru career 

Adopt one kid

Always be single

Max programming and video gaming skills

Have one best friend

Gen 5:

You were adopted as a baby and raised by a single parent who taught you that you can do whatever you want. You love animals and decide that you will do anything to help them. You become a vet and have at least three animals in your life. You meet your spouse while working and you have three kids. Since you have animals and your spouse, you don't need real friends right?

Aspiration: Friend of the animals

Career: Have a vet clinic

Traits: Cat Lover, Dog Lover, Loner

Complete the friend of the animals aspiration

Run a successful vet clinic

Have at least three animals in your life

Meet your spouse at the vet

Have three kids

I hoped you like this legacy! If you want please subscribe to me on youtube which is TheMintPlumbob

@maxismatchccworld

[pirate-kwazii]

Watching Ring Of Fire now so here’s more of my thoughts

Is that a fence in the water

Is everyone groaning about the sea urchin and crab or yawning? I can’t tell

Okay I’ve had the Vegimals song stuck in my head for awhile now

Kwazii’s alarm clock shoots tennis balls at him- same

And Dashi starts the day with yoga

Tweaks fell asleep playing video games mood

Shellington what the fUCK

Tf is that- is that lava?!?

Oh ring of fire like the volcanoes- I feel stupid now

They’re doing their role call out of order

What the fuck Kwazii why did you eat 17 kelp cakes

Is the only thing you eat is seaweed

VIDEO TRAINING VIDEO TRAINING

*terrible accordion playing* *everyone winces*

How many cousins do you have peso?!?!

Kwazii: I’m going out and FAST!!!!

Captain: *eyebrow raise*

Kwazii: I mean I’m checking the engine

MORE GUPS?!?!

“Don’t push the Z button” Kwazii is definitely going to press it I bet all 3 of my dollars

Wait why did Peso and Barnacles need a Gup if they were taking the octopod?!

How much time does Tweak have to keep making all these gups?!

Aw Kwazii loves that Gup so much

WHAT IS BARNACLES WEARING WHAT THE HELL NO

Kwazii’s copying it omg-

Shellington and Dashi are such nerd friends it’s actually adorable

Tremors those are probably important

Ring-shape? Like the ring of fire-

Oh no comms are down

A TSUNAMI?!?!

Mateys you should’ve stayed at the Octopod

Kwazii saved Tweak’s life and now it’s flooding

Why don’t they know about the Ring of Fire if they LIVE in the ocean

Oh no the comms are down they can’t reach them!!!!

Damn at least no one is alone...

Of course the Chinstrap Penguins live on a volcano

Well at least Shellington and Dashi are alright and above water so there’s a lower chance of drowning

“How does he know I’m an octonaut?” Maybe it’s because you’re wearing the octonauts colors and the logo all over it

Wow itd be faster to push the stupid thing

Last time you guys followed the screaming sound there was a tsunami

Well at least you found the whales you wanted to find

“I’ve always wanted to see a whale but not like this!” I’d sure hope so Shellington

Of course the volcano erupts

Tweak Kwazii are ya okay?!

THEY DONT HAVE AIR TANKS ON THEM OH NO

TWEAK!!!

Now is not the time to copy Barnacles- holy shit it worked

She just noticed that?!

Shit you guys are stuck

Kwazii beggars can’t be choosers

Why is that the only way to get across Tweak

No Tweak pay attention

ITS ON FIRE

I really hope you guys can hold your breath

She’s pulling a Ladybug and the things she looks at glow now

Improvised fire extinguisher

WHY IS EVERYTHING ON FIRE ARENT YOU UNDERWATER

Eww they landed in seaweed and a banana peel

Why does everyone end in the garbage disposal- sorry compost

Oh he almost fell in-

*opens door and floods room* Guess we’re swimming after all

Tunip leave him it’s natural selection

Grouber just sits and eats during a panic- same

“Lesson Nine- dealing with disasters” what

Why is the background of those videos so bad

I mean it’s rad but also bad

Tunip: *hands the Vegimals a bunch of shovels* good luck

Mateys how did that dirt pile work-

*quickly unplants all the seaweed*

*vacuums the animals*

LEAVE THE SEAWEED YOU HAVE ENOUGH

“You gotta save us!” Why didn’t you get their attention sooner?

Why do none of them notice the volcanoes that they live on/near

We’ve seen the rafts it won’t work

How the hell did you think of that

Is that even possible

They only leave Inkling in charge when legit no one else is there

Kwazii and Tweak: *mimic pirates, rabbits and Barnacles*

Peso and Barnacles: *mimic penguins*

How was the lava that aLMOST COOKED YOUR EGGS NOT A WARNING SIGN

Wow Inkling is not good at this I see why he’s never in charge

Even Kwazii and the Vegimals have managed the octopod better than that

Why is there is Disco Ball

Why does it always switch to the training videos

“Dashi’s so good at this” yeah it’s almost like it’s her JOB

There was a BUTTON FOR THAT EXACT REASON AND YOU DIDNT THINK TO PRESS IT FIRST?!?!?!

Took you long enough jeez

What is they fall off of the “slide”

“Mothers and babies first” anyone else can perish

Well that egg is dead

Oh never mind he got it

WHY DIDNT YOU TWO GET ON THE SIDE TOO TWEAK WOULD UNDERSTAND

I mean she and Kwazii are trying not to be set on fire so I’m sure she’d get it

“I just hope everyone else is okay” well shellington and Dashi are stuck on a volcano that’s exploding trying to get a beached whale out on a very slow Gup, the Vegimals are trying to evacuate the garden, and Tweak and Kwazii are trying to get out of the burning and flooding repair area so no I don’t think anyone else is okay

“This isn’t working” no really Dashi

Oh the crabs know Kwazii that explains so much

Another Training Video?!

The crew all look so nervous when they appear in a training videos

Oh now Dashi and Shellington are mimicking Tweak

Poor Shellington he’s clumsy

“I have to say I.. really like that plan” yea cuz it’s the one that doesn’t involve you burning in the lava

Shellingtons getting a workout in oof

He’s about to fall into the lava

Now the crabs about to fall into the water

Oh god he’s screwed

Crab jump on the whale- now he’s flying

Shellington get out of the lava!!!

Alright some people are safe

Oh never mind the other volcanoes are erupting too

That water level is dangerously high are they gonna be okay

Kwazii don’t phrase it like that it sounds like you’ll die

KWAZII!!!!!

Oh god oh no his tail

Mimicking Barnacles saved the day

TWEAK!!! KWAZII!!!

Oh they are alright thank god

They’re gonna be traumatized from this- *angst time*

“And how will we get up there” Kwazii making good points again

Kwazii with a grappling hook is a terrifying idea please get one

And now they find out the comms are down

Kwazii trying to be helpful

WHY DOES SHE HAVE AN EMERGENCY CARROT STASH

KWAZII GOT ONE TOO

Another video but this ones useless-

TWEAK YOU TURNED OFF THE POWER

They sounded the octo alert together!!!

Babies

EVERYONES OKAY!!!!

OF COURSE THERES ANOTHER ONE

Kwazii and Tweak: ya we’re good

Also them: *trying to not to drown or burn*

They are all gonna connect to each other like Voltron aren’t they

KWAZII DID PRESS IT IM NOT LOSING MY $3 TODAY!!!

Tweak: I got a plan

*crashes through the hatch*

Kwazii: *excited cat sounds*

Yeah they’re going together naturally

“Mega Gup Z” epic naming skills Tweak

“Seat swap” “wait a minute- WHOA”

“It’s completely covered in sea creatures” there’s no way you get all of them

Oh good some are swimming away

“Sit tight” they can’t really do anything else Captain

Do we know where they go after being S U C C E D into the mega Gup z?

And now rocks are everywhere

Kwazii’s excited cat noises are giving me life

Couldn’t the crabs walk away?

Oh no they’re getting stuck in the volcano-

Oh they’re good thank Neptune

Dashi: yea it’s bout to erupt we gotta go

Peso: I saw something inside there we gotta go look

Does Peso want them to die

Of course the animals sound snobby

“Why ever would we do that” CUZ ITS ERUPTING i swear all the creatures have the IQ of a walnut

“I didn’t even make a button for it” bruh

Yeah just like Voltron

Kwazii: *even more excited cat noises cuz he gets to destroy things*

Why do you all name the moves with the word “mantis” in front of them?

They all share one braincell and Barnacles and Peso have it 90% of the time

Tweak gets the other 10%

Everyone else runs on pure chaotic energy

“Tweak Status Report!” Tweak: WE ARE FUCKED

Let Tweak say “Fuck��� 2k21

Kwazii: *e x c i t e d c a t n o i s e s*

*throws sea creatures at whale*

*blows up into five gups in massive explosion in front of erupting volcano*

Is all that sea urchin thinks about is food

“You know what I’d like? Dinner” “you know what pal, that sounds great”

“Have the eruptions stopped” “yea but that’s not what I called about”

Is Inkling trying to be more than that guy who sits in his library all day?

Yea it’s not hatching because of the bandage all around it

Please say the egg doesn’t die

Oh it’s alive good

Octonauts: remember that island that got destroyed by a volcano? Would you like to live on an island that volcano created?

Penguins: not really

Octonauts: too bad

Vegitoa? Wow

ITS THAT STUPID SONG AGAIN LAST TIME IT WAS IT MY HEAD FOR TWO WEEKS

“It still felt like we were working as a team” maybe cuz you were all copying each other the whole time

“You really, really need to update those training videos” yeah fair enough

Of course the Vegimals still remember the dance

I see what the hype was about that was a fantastic movie mateys... though everyone’s probably gonna have some problems after that

[calmlftv]

sweet creature. - m.c.

description: this is entirely self indulgent but here’s some dad!sos michael for our dad!sos michael needs. 100% fluff

word count: 2.3k

warnings: pregnancy, descriptions of labor pains and birthing process, descriptions of pain.

w/n: hi thanks to @spicycal​ i started and finished this within a matter of hours, i did not proof read this so if there are typos or errors im SO sorry! thank u sarah for the brain zoomies x

taglist: @spicycal​ @n-ctarinenga​ @irwinkitten​ @castaway-cashton​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @notinthesameguey​ @ashtonsos​ @loveroflrh​ @bestyearssos​ @treatallwithkindness​ @bestyearslftv​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @ashtonlftv​

****

When Michael first finds out you’re pregnant, he’s overjoyed but nervous; while talking of the future he had confessed he was nervous about being a dad, his fears of “fucking up” his kid rearing their ugly head as you had laid in bed together. Your post-sex glow was shining over the two of you despite it having been a bit of time since your activities had ended, the conversation having started from your lack of protection earlier in the evening. 

You had frowned at him, his face buried in the valley of your shoulder, lips and bits of scruff tickling your bare skin. “You’d be a great dad,” you said softly, fingers running through his hair. “I see how you wave to staring babies at grocery stores and in the dog parks, Michael. You’d be an excellent father to your kids.” 

He lifted his head to match your gaze, his beautiful eyes shining. “You think so?” He asked softly, his answer being only a silent nod. He gave you a half smile and nodded back, dipping down to let your lips meet together. 

“Then let’s give it a try.” 

Your heart had leaped at his answer, the two of you giggling madly as his lips traveled down your neck. The conversation ended with the two of you deciding to just see where things go, not really doing anything to ensure anything but not exactly stopping it, either. 

After some time you had started to feel unwell, chalking it up to stress in the current climate, the conversation you and Michael had being pushed completely to the back of your mind. You went weeks without taking a test, the sickness coming and going until Michael finally handed you the white and blue stick. 

You had raised an eyebrow at him but went into the bathroom anyway, pacing back and forth in front of the sink as you waited for your answer. Michael had set it face down, the two of you biting the inside of your cheeks as the timer on your phone went off. Together you flipped it over, the answer you had been waiting for spelled out right in front of you. 

The following months were filled with mixtures of emotions, the growing life inside of you quickly becoming the center of your lives. Michael insisted on taking a photo every month, his lips pressed firmly against your belly as Calum or Ashton would take the photo, a smile always on your face at the excitement he had over the arrival of your sweet babe. 

At 6 months you were both in your best friend's wedding, a beaming smile as you stood behind her on her big day. The two of you joked about how you always knew you would be the pregnant one at her wedding, the drinks being poured for your other friends in your honor as you and Michael danced the night away. The wedding seemed to inspire something within him, his eyes glistening a bit differently as he twirled you around the dance floor. 

“I love you,” he whispered, lips right beside your ear as he swayed with you. “And our little one. So much.” 

You blushed and smiled, getting a little teary. “And I love you and our little one, too. So so much.” 

The night continued on, the send off going off flawlessly and the two of you returning home. You both fell asleep right away, exhaustion hanging on every bit of you as you settled in. 

At 7 months you had your baby shower, a bit later than you had wanted but with travel restrictions still being so complicated, you wanted to have time to get Michael’s mother and family there. While you had decided not to disclose the gender just yet, the party was filled with love and plenty of gifts for baby Clifford, everyone enjoying themselves with the games your best friend had helped you choose. Michael stuck by your side the entire time, ever the doting boyfriend as he checked in every so often, bringing you anything you needed and always being your helper when you needed to get up. 

As it started to quiet down Michael seemed to get a bit jumpy, you having to call his name a couple times before he would appear beside you again, a nervous smile on his face as he would help you with whatever you needed. You had caught him in what seemed like a meeting with the boys, the four of them quickly talking over each other as they noticed you approaching, Michael seeming unbothered as he smiled at you. You just smiled back at him and let him kiss your forehead, your hands running over your belly as he kept you close. 

About an hour after you walked in on that meeting Michael came over, helping you out of your chair and leading you to the backyard just in time to see the brilliant orange skies of Los Angeles, the sky taking your breath away as Michael chuckled. 

“You’ve always loved sunsets,” he said softly, a light blush on your cheeks. “D’ya think little one will like them, too?” 

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “I hope so,” you said softly, hand resting on top of your bump. You sensed Michael shifting beside you, the nervous energy around him making you raise an eyebrow as you faced him. 

“What’s gotten into you today?” You asked softly, gently reaching up to get his attention. “You’ve been nervous all day…You’re not having second thoughts on this baby are you?” 

Michael quickly shook his head. “No, no! Absolutely not,” he said, eyes dropping to the ground as he took a deep breath. “Just...nervous.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “What about?” 

Your lover lifted his eyes and met your gaze, a chuckle escaping him as he pulled his hands into his pockets. “You know,” he started, stepping closer to you. “Ever since the day we met, I’ve been wildly and incredibly in love with you. It slammed into me like a ton of bricks, and even through our friendship, I knew that all I wanted was you. All I could ever want is and always will be you, my love.” He paused, smiling at you as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Now, with our little one almost here, I’ve come to realize that I couldn’t ever ask for anything else. I want to keep you and our family safe for the rest of our lives, so…” he trailed off, hands coming out of his pockets as he knelt down to one knee. 

“Yes,” you said, Michael laughing. 

“Hang on, let me ask the question!” He laughed, the ring emerging from his palm. “My love, my angel. Will you marry me?” 

You laughed and nodded, repeating your answer as he took your hand. You sniffled as he stood, his hands cupping your cheeks as he chuckled. 

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing your lips together in the sweetest kiss. 

“And I love you,” you whispered back, your lover pressing his lips to your forehead as he tugged you close, your belly bumping his as you laughed. 

The rest of the night was the two of you celebrating your engagement, your friends and family members all offering their congrats on everything. Once the night was over and your friends were helping you clean up you were shooed off to bed, Michael escorting you away as your friends all said goodnight. 

The next couple of months were a whirlwind, you and Michael throwing yourselves into the project that was the baby’s nursery. Your due date crept closer and closer, each day without your bundle of joy in your arms making both of you impatient. Thanks to Google, you were able to try every old wives tale to induce labor, mixing it with bouncing on your yoga ball as you tried to urge your baby out. 

Your due date came and went, your date for inducing being set for a couple of weeks out while Michael and you prepared for a maternity shoot with Andy and Sarah. While it was a bit late, you had decided you ultimately wanted photos done for the memories, although you and Michael had already decided you wanted another one by this point; Andy and Sarah were more than happy to provide the photos for you, taking you to a stunning location and taking every photo possible. 

Unbeknownst to Michael, you had felt some contractions already, brushing them off as the Braxton-Hicks your OB had warned you about. However, midway through the photos, you felt a trickle down your leg, embarrassment already creeping over you as you thought you had peed yourself. However, very soon after a contraction rolled through you, causing you to bend over and hold your belly. 

“Angel?” Michael asked, immediately reaching for your hand. “What’s going on?” 

“Um,” you uttered, standing up straight as the pain passed. “My water just broke.” 

Immediately his eyes went wide, your lover looking to Andy and Sarah in shock. The two of them quickly started packing up while Michael ushered you to the car, carefully helping you in and quickly driving back home to pack the hospital bags. While he was scrambling around you were timing everything, bouncing on your ball again as you did so in hopes of it lessening the pain. 

Soon enough you were back in the car, the two of you racing to the hospital and checking in at seemingly lightning speed. Once you were admitted and connected to everything Michael was at your side, hand holding yours as waves of pain rolled over you, each one worse than the last. With the help of nurses the two of you walked around, Michael cheering you on as you got closer and closer to the birth. 

Then, finally, after what felt like eons, it was time to push. 

Michael was at your leg, holding it back as he kept his face close to yours. With every push he whispered his encouragement, telling you how great you were doing and how beautiful you were, and how proud he was of you as you both ushered a new life into the world. Soon enough you heard the first cries, tears streaming down both of your cheeks as the doctor quickly cut the cord. 

“It’s a boy!”

You let out a choked sob as your son was placed on your chest, the flood of emotions washing over you as you reached up to touch your baby. To your surprise, Michael’s hand was already there, his face pink and covered in tears as he gazed at his first born. 

A few hours later you were all taken care of, a couple nurses helping you tie your hair back while your baby was cleaned. They smiled as the door opened, a third nurse rolling in the little bed your baby was laid in, the boy sound asleep as he was placed right beside you. After checking in that you were okay the nurses left, finally leaving you and Michael alone with your son. 

Michael walked over, looking at the baby with a smile on his face. He seemed to be holding himself back, his hand reaching out to gently drag a finger across his son’s cheek. 

You watched him and smiled. “You can hold him,” you said softly. “I’m sure he wants his daddy.” 

Michael met your gaze and blushed, smiling shyly as he nodded. Carefully he picked up the baby, holding him in his hands as he gazed at him in amazement. He moved to his seat and sat down, eyes never leaving the sleeping child in his arms. 

“Hey, little man,” he said softly, your heart soaring at his gentle tone. He sniffled, his eyes filling with tears. “You know your daddy loves you? How perfect he thinks you are?” 

It took everything within you to control your own tears, your hormones still all over the place. “We need to name him,” you said softly, Michael looking up at you. 

He nodded, looking back at his son. “I’ve always loved the name Ashton,” he chuckled, making you laugh lightly. 

“I like that name,” you answered. “But I think I like Colby more.” 

He met your eyes and nodded. “Colby,” he said, trying it out as he looked back at the babe. “Colby Tyler Clifford.” 

You beamed, nodding in agreement as Michael looked at you for approval. “Colby Tyler Clifford it is.” 

Michael grinned and carefully shifted Colby, leaning over to kiss the knuckles on your hand. “Have you slept yet?” He asked you, the question a bit pointed. 

You sighed, getting his point. “I should,” you answered, eyes on your baby. “Promise you’ll stay with us? And that you’ll wake me if anyone comes by?” 

Michael chuckled and nodded, standing and shifting the baby as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I promise,” he whispered, noticing your eyes already closing as he pulled away. 

Soon enough you were asleep, Michael pacing the room with your beautiful baby boy in his arms. He hummed little tunes as they came to his head, quietly singing lyrics to them as he focused solely on his son. Eventually he found his way back to his chair, still quietly singing as he heard a light knock on the door. 

He looked up just as a nurse quietly stuck her head in the door, obviously noticing your sleeping form in the bed and waving him over. 

“Hey,” she greeted, keeping her voice down as she noticed the babe in his arms. “When mama’s awake again we’ll get some paperwork and birth certificate over for you to sign, okay? And you guys have a visitor, they’re seated in the waiting room.” 

He nodded, confused about the visitor but stepping out with the nurse. Colby stirred slightly in his arms, his little mouth opened in a yawn as his heart melted, doors opening for him as he stepped into the waiting room. 

Immediately his eyes landed on Calum, his best friend standing from his chair the second their eyes met. He grinned at the bundle in his arms, his phone being tucked into his pocket as he stepped closer. 

“Hey mate,” Michael greeted, voice quiet as he turned slightly. “Meet your godson, Colby Tyler.” 

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Day At The Races

You find yourself competing with Bruce on the track.

Masterlist 

Warnings: Innuendo's, Swearing

A/n have some fluff, hope you enjoyxx

(Not my gif)

Day At The Races

Taglist @125bluemachine125

You took a deep breath as Bruce parked the car in the school parking lot there was tonnes of people walking around all making there way to the field where the days festivities were being held. You leaned back looking at him smiling lightly

"Sweets its fine there isn't any press here its families only." he pulled up a hand placing a kiss to it then your wrist and arm tugging you close trailing kisses along your arm until he placed a kiss on your cheek making you giggle when he nuzzled you rubbing his light scruff on your cheek.

"Hey no beard burn!"

"First time I've heard that seriously tho today will be fine"

"I know but its the first time we've been out since going public.... people are going to watch and judge especially after the other articles..." he sighed running his thumb across your hand he understood he really did the media had blown up about your relationship as expected but some had gone beyond, many had nice things to say but a few had been critical saying that you was the billionaires answer to a midlife crisis and that you'd be out of the picture, soon enough others followed making articles base solely around your age gap calling you a gold digger a whore without saying the word Bruce as promised had his legal team taking them to court on your behalf for slander. Hell one had made you cry as it was so nasty saying vile things interviews with 'child hood friends' who you hadn't even remembered crawled out of the wood work fabricating stories of raunchy sexual escapades and such claiming you was a high paid 'anything goes' escort and that's how you really met Bruce, it had made him so angry he didn't even bother to go to court he bought the magazine outright and stopped the printing sacking half of the company as well as the ceo and editorial managers. 

"Just remember I'm with you. I love you and I've got your back we're a team sweets"

"I love you to" you both leaned in kissing each other you got butterflies in your chest as you both pulled away exiting the car you walked around to bruce he took your hand in his locking the car and led you down towards You eyed the people around you, they were watching you judging you. some scoffed you hear whispers from some people about what you were waering, you looked down you didnt think you looked bad. Bruce like you in these leggings well by the way he had pounced on you when you slid them on grabbing and squeezing your ass in them you assumed he had, they were a false matte black leather look you top was a baggy plain whit on the front on the back was a big patch of a cat saying dont be a pussy... probably not the best choice but you felt cute.

You noticed others women eyeing Bruce it was rare for him to be seen out not in a suit or some variation of it ,receiving looks from many of the mothers and older sisters of the students. Not that you could blame them he was in a tight fit black tee and tasteful dark sweats he had come dressed for the dreaded parents race...You never were one for a man in sweats but damn if he didn't look mouthwatering.. if only they were a tad lower, he caught you looking smirking at you then lifted a thumb to the corner of your mouth.

"Your drooling there sweets hold still." you slapped his hand away 

"I was not!" he laughed using the opportunity to grasp your offending hand kissing your palm before holding it tight walking to the desk informing them of your arrival as bruce signed you both in you saw many women glaring at you. You pulled back a little from him he noticed giving your hand a squeeze then moved to hold your hip pulling you to walk beside him.

"Ignore them they are just jealous.... an ass like yours would cost them a lot of money." you squeaked as he pinched your bottom.... he seemed obsessed with it today, you was tankful as his antics were taking your mind off of the glances you was receiving.Bruce quickly navigated the crowds with you arriving at the booths made for parents to sign up to participate in some events he grabed a pen and began filling in for the parents races. Each pupil had a number the parents would get a corresponding number to pin to themselves for the race gaining points for their children adding to their total's helping them to win prizes. He passed the pen to you once filling everything in, you bit your lip writing down your name for the mothers race for Jack freezing you hovered the pen above damien's name bruce smiled leaning down he kissed your ear lightly before speaking quietly in your ear so close you could feel his breath.

"You'd run for him?" you nodded still debating if it was a good idea, it was your first semi public apperance you didnt want to rock the boat. 

"Yes... I want to but....It could cause an uproar people could make assumptions." he stood behind you still holding your hip in one hand the other coverd your hand holding the pen making a tick mark beside his sons name kissing the back of your neck.

"Fuck them you want to run the mothers race for my son do it... and I'll run the dads for Jack."he said letting you put down your name before taking back the pen doing the same for jack.

"and I hope to meet you in the winners race."

"Something tells me you'd throw it just to see my ass" he grunted at you

"Nope I always win these things I wouldn't throw them for anything and besides I don't have to throw a race to look at it, I'll look at it when I damn well please, as is my right" you chuckled at him shaking your head

"What ever you say boss man" before being interupted by someone clearing there throat. You both turned to see a barbie who had obviously rearranged herself pulling the tops of her expensive tits out of the yoga top hanging out obscenely trying to gain his attention. You rolled your eyes as a blonde came up behind you both a sultry look fluttering her eyelashes at your man.

"Can I please?" she said motioning to the pen in Bruce's hand her eye scanning him from head to toe licking his lips. He smiled politely handing it to her you scowled at her.

"Of course come on love" he said leading you away you looked down a little. 

"Dont let it get to you sweets. They will try, they will always try love"

"I know dosent mean I have to like it tho....Its just hard and I'm trying to behave for your sake. I cant exactly call her out and smack the shit out of her" he grunted twitching in his sweats rearranging himself 

"Not if you don't want to be caught being railed on the field no"

"Bruce! are you always thinking about sex? seriously were in a school"

you shouted laughing pushing him lightly as he laughed pulling you back ton him placing you in front as he walked resting his chin on your shoulder whispering huskily into your ear.

"Well this is where me met.... its on my list"

"No!. Do not even go there with your stupid fucking list"

"Don't knock the list...You could have one if you want...I'm sure we could find a way to sneak away for five minutes or so, we could try Mr Kolemans office"

"Oh? and when do you ever finish in five minutes?" he shrugged sending you cheeky look

"Just because I haven't doesn't mean I cant" you shook you head rolling your eyes at him. You quickly noticed the blond from earlier was sticking close the the both of you, Bruce had noticed but kept quiet ignoring her as you made your way across to the boys events. You grunted as she tailed you all the way down the field even as you both sat on the grass you sat between Bruce's legs he pulled you close making a point to touch and hold you. She was always trying to be in sight of Bruce twirling her hair and fluttering her eyes at one point bending over in front of him wiggling her boney ass. You seethed knowing what she was doing but unable say anything.

"You know...You could say something...I really wouldn't mind..Quite the opposite I would enjoy having you get all territorial just a quick snap? growl? anything?" you rolled your eyes as he began grinding against you making sure you felt just how much he would enjoy it

"Bruce behave youself!!"you slapped his thigh making him grunt and hiss leaning forward capturing your ear between his teeth suckling your lobe

"Go oonn you know you want to, do it for me?" he continued kissing down your neck you flushed as she scoffed as Bruce sucked a new mark onto your neck. You would not start a cat fight over Bruce, not that you didn't want to fight for him just that you didn't need to. He was yours. But it didn't mean you wasn't self conscious as the slim woman tried to gain his attention. Tho he made himself quite clear with his little display just who it was he desired. You shook your head trying to rise above her pettiness. Spotting the boys you waved then pointed them out to Bruce who was now satisfied with his fresh mark pulled away with a soft kiss. Jack and Damien sat across from you, Jack waved back then nudged Damien who smiled nodding to you. First was the throwing events then we moved to the jumps. 

"Whats Damien doing?"

"He is doing high jump he is band from long jump."

"What? why?"

"He... clears the sand.... by quite a bit so he cant do it now, the others cant compete with him"

"That doesn't sound fair being banned for being good at it" he sighed.

"And he was holding back"

"Wow so he's and agile little bugger then"

"Heh you have no idea" you both watched the kids participate in their events moving across the field. Throughout the day you saw a pattern Damien was top across the board. In every single event he did. The boy didn't even break a sweat as he was leaving all of the others in the dust, you got the distinct feeling he was holding back. Especially as you saw Bruce motion for him to slow down.

"Bruce what the fuck! your sons a beast how the fuck can he do that im pretty sure he just broke a world record?" you cried as he won the hurdles a good 50 seconds before Jack came in second place. you pulled out your phone to do a google search on hurdle world records Bruce sighed running a hand across the back of his neck.

"...Well he likes fitness and sports I may have updated the manor's gym for him" you snapped your head to him.

"Hang on whoa a gym? where the hell have you hid a gym?" he faltered which was unlike him before quickly snapping out of it stuttering.

"Err well it's-its at the back in the old part,its not fully finished I don't want you going in there it has potentially dangerous equipment in there, professional stuff you need to be taught how to use them." you nodded unconvinced before hearing an anouncement.

"All parents participating in the parental race please come and collect your numbers" Bruce stood helping you up. You both walked to the table collecting the numbers 345 jack 352 for Damien pinning them to your tee shirts ,the fathers race was first you pulled Bruce in for a sweet kiss which he promptly tried deepening wrapping himself aroung you you giggle pulling back as he moved to kiss down your neck, you glowed red as the other parents watch out right some of the women were scoffing. You cupped his face.

"Good luck babe kick ass" he smiled kissing your lips again

"You to" he said before taking position on the start line you was awestruck as you watched him dominate the race, what ever Bruce had said about Damien in the gym was bullshit, it was genetics, pure dna it had to be as Bruce quickly made his way out front and stayed there he was miles away from the others you cheered as he made it across the finish line. Smiled Standing tall as the other runners crouched over panting some heaving there faces purple. You took your place on the starting line noting that blondy was in the line up doing some bullshit yoga stretches drawing attention to herself, although you was on the larger side than  the other women you was confident. In school you had been on the track team, not only that this was Gotham being able to run was a survival skill that most of these women didn't need to master in their gilded castles. You crouched looking down the track taking a slow breath flexing the muscles in your legs warming them with extra blood flow as the others got in position. The teacher counted down and you were off you stayed near the back pacing yourself letting the others wear themselves out before going in for the win, as predicted the others all took off in a full sprint loosing steam quickly. Half way down the track you took it up a notch sprinting slowly building up to full speed passing the women one by one hearing the curses and gasps as you took the lead even then you pushed on breaking away further and further finally crossing the finish line Bruce high fived you.

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"Track team, you never start with sprinting." he shook his head now the top three of each would race one another you noticed with glee that blondy hadn't made it through, she maybe skinny but you were fitter and you couldn't help being smug. You all lined up looking to Bruce you don't care about beat the others just him but you had no hope in winning against him outright so would have to try some underhanded tactics smiling slyly.

"Hey babe?" you bent over a little wiggling your ass he glanced at you wetting his lips eyeing your bent over form as the teacher to position starting to count down. 

"Yeah"

"Is it obvious I'm not wearing anything underneath these?" you said pulling on your leggings he gasped standing up quickly turning to look at your ass.

"You what?!" you laughed running as the race began Bruce missing the call swore quickly following a few seconds you as you took a healthy lead the others now tired from the previous race, you glanced behind you seeing him quickly gaining on you, not even in his lane he'd merged into yours and he looked determined but his eyes were glued to you ass,

"Just you wait!" he shouted out to you squealing you pushed harder trying to stay ahead of him laughing unable to stop yourself from tucking your ass below you as you heard his heavy steps just behind you fully expecting him to grab you.

"No! Bruce! I'm sorry!" you shouted as he was practically on top of you as you crossed the finish line

"Sorry?! you get your ass here!!" but you didn't stop dodging him for a few more moments, in that moment you didn't care about the damn race you screamed as he finally caught you around the waist lifting you up crushing you against him.

"That was really a really dirty trick woman" he said you laughed he placed you down in front him your back to him then smoothed his hands across your ass raking his fingers up and down before giving you a quick spank you flushed knowing full well no matter how discreet he was trying to be someone was bound to have seen that.

"You little tease!" he growled once he felt the the seam of your underwear he moved hugging you from behind pulling you back grinding into your ass lightly. 

"Just you wait until I get you to the car" you mewled at the threat rubbing back against him feeling his significant bulge pressing insistently at your ass 

"Is that a promise Mr Wayne?" he groaned into your neck. Turning you saw that you had indeed come first gaining both boys extra points.

"Ha I won!!" you laughed

"Yes you won, but at what cost?" you froze turning to look at him wide eyed 

"Cost? what do you mean cost? Bruce?" he just laughed pulling away from you as he waved over at the boys both of them shrinking into their shoulders at the public display you'd given everyone. He walked over to the table to hand in his numbers you followed at a safe distance

"Bruce? What cost? hey! don't ignore me!" He did tho chuckling to himself deciding to let your mind dwell on what could be in store for you.