#OUTRO: TEAR THE ANGST NOW TOLD

[voidcat]

— letters to no one (life eternal)

characters: rain ghoul, gn!reader

notes & wc: mcd, angst, hurt/(little) no comfort, slice of life if you squint?, I kept the CoD vague on purpose to leave it up for interpretation but what I intended for it is between the lines. from rain’s perspective, this one is just… sad. – 1.6k

a/n: you can read this while listening to I Love You So by The Walters, mostly for the melody and the outro (and The Loneliest by Maneskin)

Out of all the ghouls, Rain has always been the sentimental one.

Shy and sensitive of the world, caring of the ones in his life, among everything, he is a collector– has always been one.

Rain has collected many things in his lifetime, and continues to do so. Be it guitar picks, instruments, note sheets of all kinds of music, for all types of instruments… as for his favorite– he likes to collect memories.

Tickets, trinkets, books old and new, notepads, even small silly doodles the other ghouls scribble on random pieces of paper-like material– anything that carries a memory within, Rain keeps it.

All the collecting and keeping, over the years his collection has only grown. Yet for all its size, he doesn’t check it, rarely going through some items again, from time to time.

To reminisce about the past, to laugh about a moment with someone else– everything else he comes across, it’s usually when he is replacing items or reorganizing the space.

That’s how he finds himself like this now. 

Sitting on the floor, in the cold, in the dead of the night. The halls behind the doors remain silent, even the ghouls are asleep now.

In his hand sits an old napkin.

It has gotten filthy, probably contaminated as well ever since the time he kept it. 

It is almost funny, this item of his collection was not intentional. That he just… forgot about the napkin in his pocket for a very long time, accidentally pulling it out when fishing for something else in his pockets, until one day he gave in, sure, better to have you there as well since all you do is replay that moment inside my head.

Crumpled up and some parts having a different texture than the other, he really should’ve just tossed this one out, or got it cleaned. But that would eradicate all the purpose, the memory hidden in it as well.

Rain still remembers the day, the moment itself, as clear as the fires of hell.

He can still hear the sudden breaking into a sob, a sound that clawed at his chest, the wetness he could feel on his shoulder, the way your body would shake, how you stared off into space when he wiped the tears off your face.

He hates himself for thinking like that but even then you looked beautiful.

You were never much of a crier.

Not in front of others, not even when alone with yourself, as you revealed to him once later, that you need complete darkness or to shut your eyes as tight as you could, to be able to cry, to cry in a fashion you claimed ‘proper’.

When he asked what you meant by that, your silence told him this was not a conversation for now, for another moment of vulnerability and breakdown.

The napkin in his hand again, as if you’re sitting next to him, in front of him, like back then, Rain still recalls each spot on your face that he dried, cradling your cheek, brushing strands of hair away and tucking them, knowing well how their presence could overwhelm you at times.

A part of Rain cherishes the memory as much as he hates it.

The show of trust, the vulnerability, the intimacy shared which you’ve offered him– he knows the two of you have always been close but still, this, this is something grand for your standards, for the person you are.

Hate the moment, cherish the memory– this is not a luxury Rain has when it comes to you, not anymore.

The napkin still in his hand, the small box of other trinkets by his leg, half a meter away a stack of what seems to be paper and envelopes tied together; he sits like that, in vain, waiting, thinking about nothing in particular.

Taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes, he lets his shoulders drop.

Rain misses you.

The letters ahead of him still smell like you, he makes sure of it, preserving them so your scent will remain a tad longer.

Rain has been missing you for quite some time now, for far too long.

He doesn't know how much has passed anymore but he knows it passed too much, too long, long enough to make him question while he is still here as well, has his time not come yet?

With each memory, each little thing in his collection, he honors a memory, grieves a part of you. Be it happy, sad, he is grateful he got to see so many sides of you.

This doesn’t stop him from wishing he saw more though, it never will.

Because when it comes to you, Rain is selfish.

And how can he not be? You wouldn't blame him for it if you knew, you would understand just as he does.

He does and yet, he still aches for you all the same, wishing he could be that pillar for you, that change, that escape from everything else, the reality, the people, the worries and the stress. 

With you, for you, Rain becomes a selfish person, always wishing for more, hoping for more, just a little longer, a little closer, a bit more, he craves and craves as his heart aches for more, his hunger unappeased. 

For ghouls, emotions do not always progress the same way they do for humans. They do not get attached like them, do not love like them, do not hate or experience sorrow like them.

Yet the beauty of feelings always precede barriers that separate them. And once they feel, they do so with an intensity, with passion, with a weight to it, putting their everything, pouring their beings into it.

Now Rain understands why they often do not allow people to have one last look.

This pain deep inside him would be tolerable, had it been few years more, an unexplained reason, something to brush off as genetics, ‘that's just how life is.’, an accident– anything to ease it, to justify the little passage of time.

In normal circumstances he should’ve felt like this years later, not thinking about how early everything is, too soon, too soon, his mind whispers at him constantly.

He understands why they explain that forbiddance to preserve the memory.

Because when Rain thinks of you now, he can see your smile, the warmth in it, but the image shifts so quickly to that neutral expression you usually wore, now to stay on your face forever– until time begins to decay, piece by piece, limb by limb you begin to disintegrate.

The feeling of your warmth replaced with how cold and heavy you’ve gotten. Rigor mortis is no joke but Rain never thought it’d feel this heavy on his shoulders.

Eyes staring blankly, away, to nothing in particular, to no one in particular, to the void and the void stares back.

Of course, not to him, rarely with him. There was a spark in your eyes, that crease in your face, how you always said your face would ache when you're with him, ‘it's because i am smiling so much, my muscles hurt.’ 

He was aware of the sadness laced within your explaination, but now it feels like a hammer to his chest.

And above all, Rain misses seeing the beauty of life, of love, the brightness and the warmth of the sun on you.

The color red only disgusts him now.

He never liked this look on you, the one you had on default, as you’ve explained it, the one you wore often, the one you had when nobody was watching– of course, he was, but it seems you weren’t aware, or you just didn't have any energy left in you to care. Maybe you just knew pretending would only make it worse, and offered him an honest side of you, no masks, no acting, no pretending when you’re with him.

Rain never liked how integrated with the void you were, and he hates how indifferent you look now.

As if nothing has changed, as if you were dead from the beginning, not quite living even when you were alive, save for a few exceptions– most of which you shared with him, he hopes.

It is a selfish wish, he knows, but he doesn’t have anything else to hope for at this point, except to be a source of solace when you were still with him, still laughing, still warm in his arms and not like some dead weight.

Rain always knew of the inevitable sorrow, the fate that awaited the two of you. Humans are fragile beings, they never last as long as ghouls do.

He knew this day would come eventually, accepting the risks all the same, willing to experience that gut wrenching, backstabbing, choking sorrow. Aether warned him, Papas warned him, some just looked your way with envy, some with pity– 

Yet when weighing the options, a lifetime spent with you, even if just a small portion of his life, seems worth the heartache that’ll follow.

And it is, as he learns firsthand now.

All the letters you’ve written to him, for him, about him, about your life, about nothing at all, impromptu stories and poems; they sit together, tied neatly with a ribbon of your favorite color.

They still smell of you, much to Rain’s content, when he brings the stack to his face. Something to hold on to for a little longer, to keep the memory living outside his mind, to make it last for some time more.

All he can do is to hope that their infernal lord, the morningstar, offers you that peace of mind, the happiness, the ease you deserved your whole life.

That is, if you are there.

If that’s the case, maybe he can visit you some day.

Hope is all Rain has left nowadays, besides his collection gathering dust just as his heart.

[btshodown]

Monachopsis

↳ “It’s been said that if you truly love something, you must set it free and if it comes back it is yours. If it doesn’t….well then it was never meant to be. You just never thought you’d be the one being set free; let alone never remembering who had let you go to begin with.”

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jimin Genre/Warnings: Royal AU | Angst + Mild Smut | Mentions of blood, head trauma and attempted murder. Implied unprotected sex, implied virgin reader and virgin Namjoon, brief mentions of oral (f receiving) Word Count: 9k+

➭ Monachopsis n. the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to your surroundings as a seal on a beach—lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you’d be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.

AN: Please forgive me for having this 2 weeks late :’) I just got over a really bad sinus infection, but I am happy to finally have this finished! Its been a while since I’ve posted so it feels nice to have this out. Thank you @personawife​ for giving me a chance at being in this collab and also allowing me an extension. <3 Please let me know how it turned out ^^

Namjoon knew growing up that his time with you was ticking down, like grains of sand falling slowly down the hourglass; but he was content. He cherishes those times in the stables where status didn't matter and you weren't Princess __; where he wasn't the stable boy training to take over the royal family's steeds and instead he was simply your best friend. He remembers vividly the fluttering in his heart and the excitement at seeing your cherub face grinning mischievously at him whenever you would sneak out to play with him.

 The pair of you would spend afternoons together, riding or finding different games to play. Letting the hours pass as the sun would slowly descend, alerting you that it was time to once again become Princess __. Namjoon never voiced it out, never daring to hurt you, but those times you left and he was reminded of his place, he hated it to the core. Even as young as he was, his father never failed to remind him that one day you would grow up and leave him. Innocence could only linger for so long and your friendship would surely fade. 

 But you were never one to follow rules or care for social standing. It was your stubborn persistence in seeing him and keeping your friendship intact that allowed you two to grow together. He still remembers the vow you made to him by the lake, the serious expression on your baby face looking out of place as you promised to never forget him or your bond. He remembers feeling like he could spread wings and fly high with how happy he felt.

 But then slowly as the years passed he realized his first mistake. Seeing you grow as puberty hit you both began changing your dynamic. His heart no longer fluttered innocently.

 The baby fat began to leave your face as your body developed, your dresses began to fit you snugly in places he never believed he'd be staring at. Suddenly, his eyes couldn't stop from gazing at your lips, wondering if they'd feel nice molded against his. Each accidental graze of skin or fleeting glance had his heart beating loudly in his ears as his skin felt electric. 

 Suddenly, he realized that he wanted to play with you in a different way.

 Little did he know that he was oblivious to your own lingering stares of longing, to your quiet sighs of imagining what his lips would feel like on your skin. He was much too preoccupied watching you grow that he missed how he was growing himself; shoulders becoming broader, thighs getting thicker, jaw becoming defined, voice deepening and his height making it so that he towered over you now. 

 So into his sadness of knowing that a relationship between you two was impossible he was that he missed your determination growing with each meeting. He was always the more timid one and he will always be grateful for your relentless persistence because it was the only reason why things turned out the way they did. He knew that if it had been up to him, you would have truly become the princess your parents expected you to be.

 But you had other plans and by some power that you possessed as the only heir, you got your way. Suddenly, you had come to him with a wide grin and threw yourself into his arms to steal his breath as your lips touched his. Never mind the fact that he had no idea you even returned his affections, but what had his mind spinning was the fact that you knew he loved you. Your delicate laugh was your only answer as he had sputtered incoherently that day, wondering how you knew, why you suddenly decided to let him know and just overall what. 

 He will never forget your warm smile as you got on your toes to encircle your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to once more steal his breath away and trace his lips with your own. He remembers his love for you growing as you explained how you convinced your parents, the king and queen, to either let you choose your own suitor or prepare to lose you. Of course they gave you what you wanted; you were their only child as the king had gone infertile after having you. They couldn't possibly bare to lose you.

 And so the best years of Namjoon's life began, even if your relationship couldn't be publicly announced, he didn't care. He spent his older teen years and early twenties wrapped in your smiles, laughs, kisses and hugs. Of course, within the first year he also got to experience the pleasure of being wrapped between your arms and legs for the first time; his heart felt like it would explode when it first happened. 

 He can still remember that day by the lake as he had brought you on a surprise picnic, sitting on the blanket you gifted him as a child with a spread of meats and cheeses. It started with innocent intentions, although he should have known your intentions were anything but as you cheekily revealed you sneaked out a bottle of wine. A couple of glasses and your sultry gaze boring holes into his face later, you had more or less jumped him. His surprise was swallowed by your eager kisses and his hesitance melted as your delicate fingers hungrily ran through his hair and shoulders.

 If someone asked him before what he thought euphoria was, he would have instantly said riding a horse through an open field as the air cut through him was it. That answer changed on that day. 

 His love for you exceeded what he believed was his limit; he wanted to be wrapped in you forever. With every little sigh and moan you let out that evening, his passion grew and all he could think about was finding new ways to make those wanton noises grow. Innocence left both of you that day and as the first year went by, you became bolder with your public affection. It was no secret among the kingdom anymore on who had your heart and body, but you had no care. 

 He truly let himself believe this was his forever. That he had finally reached his true euphoria and his life ahead seemed so clear like the path before him as he lagged behind on his stallion, watching you fondly ahead of him on your own steed. It was a slow day in the kingdom, all of your studies were finished for the day and you bemoaned to him on how long it's been since you two had gone on a ride. Of course he couldn't deny your request; his first mistake on this day.

 "Joonie!" 

 His reverie is broken as he realizes you stopped ahead waiting for him to catch up, a certain adventurous twinkle in your eye that he knew was up to no good. 

 "Yes love?"

 The twinkle grew as did your grin. "If I told you I wanted to explore the unmarked mountainside, would you deny me?"

 He should have told you no. Should have given you your first denial from him. Should have urged you to let go of your curiosity. But he didn't. 

 "You know I can't deny you." His second mistake.

 "I love you," your breath leaves you in your excitement as you bring your steed closer to him to lean over and peck his lips. "I'm spoilt because of you, I hope you know."

 His laugh has your grin widening as he prompts his stallion to begin walking again. "I do know and sometimes I wonder if I should start denying you."

 "Maybe you should stop wondering," you throw a smirk over at him as you tense your muscles, getting ready to do something reckless, "after all, if I'm happy then you know later on you will be too."

 So distracted by your wink and obvious filthy hinting he is that he's slow to react as you poke your stallion on the side with your boot; letting out a loud "yah!" as dust kicks around you before darting off. His own steed impatiently stomps the ground, eager to follow his companion and stretch his legs; but a deep rooted feeling of dread clutches at Namjoon's stomach suddenly. What's wrong with him? Why did it feel like the grim reaper itself is holding his body hostage, grinning maniacally behind him as he watches your figure get smaller and smaller? 

 It isn't until he realizes he can no longer see you that he's left you on your own and his heart plummets. His body reacts quickly as he whips the reigns, letting his stallion let out a neigh before darting after you. The feeling of the wind cutting through him no longer brings him comfort as his eyes frantically gaze around the forest, easily guiding his horse to jump, side step and run straight through any obstacles as the trees begin to crowd around him. He couldn't pinpoint why he suddenly felt so panicked, with the dread wrenching in his gut the more time passed without seeing you. He just knew he had to get to you before something happened.

 Letting you leave him behind was his third and final mistake.

 The following minutes are the worst of his life, the fear and anxiety pool into his lungs as he finally starts to shout your name. The forest was much too quiet and the fact that even the animals made no noise should have alerted him that something wasn't quite right. 

 "NAMJOON!"

 His heart stops beating and his blood fills with ice as your shriek pierces his eardrums; your stallion neighing in panic in the distance has his body moving swiftly to try and locate you. It's with horror he suddenly remembers his father warning him a fortnight ago about sightings of assassins lurking the outskirts of the kingdom, but he foolishly believed them to be rumors. What a fool he was.

 "___!! Love! Come toward my voice!"

 The pounding of hooves and your labored panting has his heart soaring as you break through the trees, looking relatively unharmed except for the shallow cut to your cheek. The moment your eyes meet his, they begin pooling with tears as you let out a sob and babble incoherently on what transpired. But he's quick to maneuver himself behind you in time to block an arrow aimed at your back; his own grunt of pain has you sobbing louder. 

 His breath stutters as he looks down at the arrow sticking out of his shoulder and with a hiss he breaks the end, leaving the rest inside to deal with later. "Love, look at me," your cries drown him out and he reaches over to clutch your shaking hands, your watery eyes finally meeting his, "listen to me carefully okay __? You need to ride as fast as you can back home and don't look back. Do you understand me?"

 The sound of war cries and pounding hooves comes closer to you two, prompting Namjoon to pant out in exertion from his wound and clench your hand tighter. He was frightened and he had no clue how to fix this, but he needed to keep you safe.

 "J-Joonie I can't...I-I," another sob cuts through you as your eyes stare at the blood quickly staining his beige shirt, turning the material a murky maroon.

 "Do you understand me __?" His voice is stern and he realizes he's never spoken to you this way, but his desperation is clawing at his throat as the assassins grow closer. He's running out of time.

 Your eyes meet his again and with a shuddering breath, you bite your cheek and nod. Namjoon doesn't let you reach for him, instead letting your hand go to slap your stallions behind, having it lift to its hind legs before darting off toward the bottom of the mountainside. His heart clenches as he ignores your cry of his name when you realize he's stayed behind, but he had to find a way to stall them so that you could make it out. 

 With another hiss he clutches at his bleeding shoulder and steers his horse in the opposite direction you went, fooling the men behind him in the wrong path. Despite not riding the mountainside in years, he still remembers parts of it from his childhood, hoping the memories were enough to guide him into confusing the assassins. 

 It would have worked. But he failed to see and hear a lone archer following your path by foot.

 His breathing is labored as he tries his hardest to dodge the arrows cutting through the air, maneuvering his stallion in tight turns and twists. It isn't until he coerces his horse to jump over a deep cut in the mountain that he's confident he's lost the men behind him, even looking behind him with heavy breathing as he doesn't see anyone following him anymore. 

 Hope rises in him along with worry as he clicks his tongue for his steed to continue its run down the mountain to catch up to you. His confidence in you to follow his direction was too high and he was a fool for believing you'd be too terrified to let your usual persistence come to light. But he realizes this day was filled with too many instances in which he is wrong. 

 Namjoon can finally see the break in the trees that lead to the clearing you two were at earlier and his hope rises. Until he catches a glint of metal in his peripheral, turning quickly to realize a lone man hidden behind the trees and aiming his arrow to something in the clearing. The grim reaper cackles behind him again as it's with dawning horror he sees you on your stallion out in the clearing, dutifully waiting for his return. 

 The next few seconds are simultaneously the slowest and fastest of his life as he pushes his horse to run to the archer, praying to any entity out there that he can get there in time. With a yell he guides his stallion to push the man, but his heart stills as the arrow still manages to get thrown. He pays no heed to the yells of the assassin below as his horse's hooves stomp onto his body, no; he was too frozen as he hears your stallion let out a yelp of pain. It's as if time slows to a crawl as he watches your steed rear back onto its hind legs from being shot and your body easily being flung back, crashing onto the ground below with a deafening thud.

 Namjoon's heart hammers inside of his ears as he watches your horse run away in fear and leaves your unmoving body on the floor. Time moves swiftly again as he jumps off his stallion, his eyes misting over in panic.

 "No no no no," his voice wavers as he runs to your body, knees falling to the ground next to you as he quickly gathers you into his arms, "please ___ wake up for me love."

With shaking fingers, Namjoon presses them to the side of your neck and breathes a sigh of relief at the soft pulse; but the wetness he feels on the hand holding your neck makes him pause. His breath hitches as he sees the alarming amount of crimson covering his hand and it's with desperation wrapping around his heart he realizes he needs to take you to the royal medic. His throat clenches in panic as the blood seeps into his sleeve as he tries his hardest to gently lift you in his arms. 

 With a whistle his horse comes quickly and Namjoon is careful to lift both of you onto his steed, maneuvering your head to rest on his shoulder, hoping to dear god that it'll help to stop the blood. He swallows thickly as he begins the trek back home, feeling his shirt get wetter by the second with your and his own blood. Despite the riding jostling the tip of the arrow still in his shoulder, Namjoon grits his teeth and looks down upon your too pale face. 

 "You will be fine love," his voice wavers and it prompts him to swallow again to try to push back the tears stinging his eyes, "I swear you will be okay and then we can go down by the lake like you love to do, yeah? You will forget about this day and it'll be nothing more than a nightmare. In a few years I bet you won't even remember this day. You will be okay." He couldn't tell anymore on who he was reassuring, but he continues to whisper affirmations to your quiet form as the kingdom begins to show in the distance. 

 He should have known, however, that fate was a cruel mistress and her sense of humor was twisted; she'd give you exactly what you asked for.

From the moment he let you leave him behind at the mountainside all those days ago, Namjoon should have realized that the final grains of sand were falling on his hourglass. The queen and king had suddenly refused to let him see you after he brought you in to the healer. He hadn't been given permission to stay by your side while you recovered from the head trauma, or even as his own wound was treated. The days passed and his heart ached with each reminder that he couldn't see how you were doing or what your diagnosis is. He longed to hold you and drop kisses all over your face in hopes of rousing you from your coma; anything to stifle the worry lodged in his heart. 

Were you doing okay? Had you woken up yet? Was there any permanent damage? Did they ever catch the rest of the assassins? Did they ever find the body of the one his stallion stomped to death? 

So many questions were left unanswered and with each day that passed with him in the dark it left his heart to slowly break. He knew your parents were not happy with the decisions you made regarding him and he wasn't foolish enough to think they approved or even favored him. He never formally met them for goodness sake and they weren't even the ones to inform him on not being given permission to see you, it was their personal guard stationed outside your room. 

 So when that same guard came to him to fetch him for a meeting with the king and queen, he knew nothing good would come from it. The pit in his stomach clued him in on it as it grew with each step he took to the hearing room. 

 "Their majesties will see you now."

 His stomach is tied in knots as the guard lifelessly opens one of the grand doors, looking as if he wasn't sending Namjoon to something that would undoubtedly affect his life. There was no denying that this had to be about you. How could it not be? He knew he would be held responsible for letting you get hurt and it was his morals that made him agree, but it was his love for you that knew he wouldn't be able to handle the punishment. 

 "Do you know why you are here today, boy?"

 The fact that the king refused to say his name was not lost on him. Nor was the poorly concealed anger behind his visage. 

 "Yes, your majesty."

 The queen held her emotions far more impressively than her husband and it was her leveled eyes that made his anxiety that much worse. She was too controlled. She resembled you too much in physique, or rather you resembled her, and seeing such a cold look on her was unsettling. 

 "I will not bother with pointless words as we all know what happened on that day," her almost bored tone made his skin crawl, he knew it was all a ruse. "To put it bluntly, our daughter has woken up, but her memories are gone."

 No. This was a lie. Surely it was? Just how much had you forgotten? You remembered him, he was sure of it. Desperate for it. His mouth felt incredibly dry in that moment and he swore ice began to engulf his heart.

 "She does not remember anything past the age of 9. The healer deems her memories resurfacing a lost battle."

 The grand room felt much too small suddenly and Namjoon's legs felt weak, his blood feeling much too icy in his veins. He was sure he stumbled in his spot as the king and queen gave him measured looks of satisfaction at knowing he knew where this meeting was going. He didn't need to guess what his punishment would be, no, not with their smug aura radiating off of them. 

 Namjoon had met you when you were 10 and he was 12, when your first riding lessons began. 

 You didn't remember him.

 "You failed at protecting our only heir and resulted in having her permanently injured. All her teachings and lessons are gone; she will need to be educated again. Do you realize the severity of the situation, boy?"

 The ground felt as if it left his feet and his heart sounded much too loud in his ears, too paralyzed to nod or even attempt to move his mouth. All he could do was stare at the bottom of their thrones, hands clenched behind his back as he mechanically began to lower to his knees. He missed how the queen put a hand on her husband's arm before standing, gracefully making her way down to where Namjoon kneeled. 

 "We were kind to you and our daughter before," her flowing silk dress was now in his line of vision as she stood before him, "we allowed her to continue this frivolous relationship of yours despite our better judgements. So you can understand our anger, surely?"

 His mouth moved without his permission, tone strained. "Yes, your majesty."

 "Now, by all means we should have you thrown in the dungeons for allowing such harm onto our only heir, but I feel pity for you. Though I should not, I want to offer you a boon." 

 His nails painfully bite into his skin as he swallows to be rid of the treacherous tears trying to fall; he wasn't fooled. He knows what she is about to offer is no boon.

 She continues despite his agonized silence. "While you are prohibited from ever trying to help our daughter regain her memories or attempt to court her again, I will, however, let you continue being our stable boy." The queen holds onto her fan and using the end of it, she gently lifts Namjoon's chin so that he is now looking at her expressionless face. "Quite a gracious boon, is it not?"

 It was in that moment that Namjoon knew what true hatred felt like and despite his mouth forming the words of his acquiescence, his heart was burning with the intensity of his fury. He could never understand how someone so kind and so selfless could have been born by the person standing before him. He knew that this woman never felt an inkling of love in her heart. 

 "Should you disobey, you will be banished from our kingdom." Her fan leaves his chin as she uncaringly glides back over to her throne, her interest no longer on the broken man she left. "You are dismissed."

 As Namjoon stands and bows before making his leave, he feels his soul withering within him. Would he prefer to never see you again or be painfully reminded every time that you are no longer his?

 With an echoing thud the grand door closes behind him as the top half of his hourglass is completely empty. He just never realized that he would never get a chance at turning it to continue letting the grains fall for a second time.

Despite not knowing more than half of your life, you felt as if you were navigating life just fine. Your muscle memory kicked in a lot for most of your forgotten lessons, much to your parents’ relief; although they refused to let you try horseback riding. For good reason it seemed, as that is how you now have a scar on the back of your head; hidden by your hair, save for the moments in which you can't help your fingers moving back to tentatively trace it. 

In just a few months, your parents were proud to announce to the neighboring kingdoms that you were ready to begin meeting suitors. Your rehashing of forgotten lessons took less time than they imagined and their plans to have you marry a prince are once again underway. You thought it odd that you were barely being matched when usually you heard the suitors began when a princess turns 18; you were much older than that from what they told you. 

 Your confusion never made it past your lips, knowing your questions would be evaded expertly by your mother. There were many questions brought up and many of them remained as such, your mother easily dismissing your perplexity. After she raised her voice at you when you questioned why you couldn't at least attempt to ride a horse again, you gave up in fear of being yelled at again. Your mother never yelled at you from the few memories you still had. 

 So here you were, in your finest dress the seamstress handcrafted for you, your hair styled perfectly, makeup immaculate, and the best jewelry decorating your frame as you met prince after prince. You couldn't begin to describe the nauseous feeling in your stomach, nor the way your heart clenched uncomfortably. You figured it was nerves as each prince seemed just as bland as the last. 

 You knew your parents frustration was growing as your face remained passive with each suitor presented to you, no matter how handsome or well-mannered they were. As much as you tried to envision yourself giving one of them a chance, neither of them ever managed to make you blush or even have your heart flutter. They just...lacked something. You were frustrated with yourself as well for not knowing what it was that bothered you so.

 "___, dear," your head turns as your mother gracefully walks over to you, her hand daintily letting go of the skirt of her dress as she gently pushes a man in front of you. "This is prince Jimin of the Vesta kingdom, surely you remember him from those balls we used to take you as a girl."

Your eyes flicker to the man standing by your mother's side, noting with surprise that his name niggles in the back of your mind, in a memory you surely thought was gone. The blurry image of a young boy when you were 7 comes to your mind, faintly remembering practicing your curtsey as this event had been your first. The image of an eye smile fades as you gaze into the eyes of not a boy, but a man now. His silver hair stands out against his tanned complexion, perfectly swept to the side to showcase his forehead as his plump lips pull into a timid smile and what takes you aback is how he smoothly takes your hand and let's his lips brush against your knuckles. 

 "It is a pleasure to see you again princess ___." He rises from his slight bow, though he keeps a light hold on your hand as his gloved thumb gently sweeps across the back of your hand. His stare and the motion seemed too intimate. "Pardon if this might be too forward, but you truly grew up to be such a beautiful woman."

 Much too gob smacked to respond, your mother decides to let out a quiet, satisfied hum as she opens up her fan dramatically, gently flicking her wrist to create a small gust of wind. "Well, I shall leave you two to it. Please look after my daughter well Jimin."

 "Of course," he replies without so much as a glance to your mother, his smile sweet and eyes crinkling as he keeps his gaze on your face. 

 It is the soft clicks of your mother's heels that bring you out of the trance the man before had you in and it's with a small breath of frustration you let out that you begin walking toward the terrace located to your left. The nerve of him to assume that just because you met when you were younger and he called you beautiful that he'd suddenly won your hand. There is no denying that he was the most handsome man out of all the princes you met and truly the most charismatic, but...your heart just wasn't in it. 

 It's as you step outside and look out into the open fields your family owned, that you feel him come to your side. With a frown you make it known you are not particularly in the mood to engage with him, resolutely walking ahead to rest your hands on the banister. A soft laugh is muffled behind you as prince Jimin once again attempts to speak with you, leaning against the banister as well. Only his eyes aren't sweeping across the open fields as yours are, you instead feel them tracing your face. 

 "My apologies if I offended you in some way ___." Your body tenses as his gloved hand gently rests atop of your right hand. "Rest assured that it wasn't my intention to do so."

 Must he be so kind? Were he pompous like the other princes you met, ignoring him would be much easier, but despite your ill temper, you couldn't bring yourself to be cruel to him. If you were being honest with yourself, it was no one's fault that you felt so disconnected, so...ill-fitted in your own skin. Despite your parents reassuring you that your lost memories didn't hold anything of importance, your heart and body heavily refused to believe it. If nothing of importance was forgotten, then why did you feel as if there was something missing in your life? 

 "Don't apologize," your sigh hangs in the air between you as you finally move your head to lock eyes with the man beside you. "It isn't your fault for my sour mood. I just…," your eyes glance away from his as they once more return to the fields below, searching for something to come out of them. You couldn't understand why such disappointment filled you when they remained empty.

 His warmth suddenly surrounds your right arm as he boldly steps closer to you, chest nearly brushing against your shoulder. "Forgive me if this is intrusive...but is it due to your amnesia?" At your wide-eyed gaze he's quick to reassuringly squeeze the hand he had yet to remove from atop of yours. "Your mother, the queen, she told me of your accident earlier."

 Anger burns in your veins as you quickly snatch your hand from his and step back, hating yourself for feeling guilty as his expression turns remorseful. Old acquaintance or not, you refused to let him know that his eyes were affecting you this much. 

 "It is intrusive and I won't forgive you for feeling entitled enough to ask me such a thing." Tears of frustration gather at your lashes; it isn't fair that you're the only one left in the dark about your own life. "My mother was wrong for telling a story that is not her own. I do not care if we met when we were younger prince Jimin; you are still a stranger to me."

Jimin truly looks remorseful for his prying, but to his credit he doesn't try reaching out for you again, he only bows and places a hand above his heart. "You are right and I'm sorry. It was not proper of me to speak of your life so frivolously."

 Truly this man was much too perfect for his own good and it's with bitterness you realize that you have already forgiven him. Your body sags slightly as you let out another sigh, once more gazing out into the green fields with longing. It isn't until you see a white gloved hand appear in your vision, palm facing up in an offer, that you glance back at Jimin and see a soft, sad smile. 

 "I understand if you would like to reject my offer as well Princess, but may I make up for my blunder with dinner tomorrow?" 

To this day, you aren't sure what made you place your hand in his and agree to let him take you out. As lovely as he treated you on that dinner and the following outings, despite the genuine laughter he managed to pull from you, something didn't quite feel right in your soul. You were much too afraid to ask someone why your heart felt as if it was betraying someone each time you smiled at prince Jimin. You weren't quite sure yet if you wanted to know the answer to that.

"Darling, your mother was asking for a time with you to go over which colors will be best for our wedding."

Your back remains facing your fiancé as your hand gently dips into the cool water of the fountain in your west garden, drawing ripples from the surface as you lazily trace patterns into the water. After spending two months with prince Jimin as he courted you, taking you to different places as you got to know him more, it was decided that you two were to be wed. As much as you have come to care for Jimin, you couldn't bring yourself to reject his proposal to you; how could you when his eyes so clearly shimmered with his adoration for you each time he looked at you?

 "Can I respond with never?" His soft giggle has you turning to look at him, your heart squeezing painfully at the fondness in his eyes. You didn't deserve it.

 "I am afraid not," his smile is soft as he takes a seat beside you, careful to not sit on top of your dress as his hand gently cups your cheek. "I know the planning bores you darling, but I won't be able to convince your mother any longer to postpone it. She'll surely hang me by the feet if I do."

 The tender way he regards you never fails to make the guilt consume you, but the selfish part of you enjoys having someone care for you like this. Half a year has passed since you woke up from your coma and you have yet to fill the hollowness lodged within your soul.

 "Well we surely don't want that," your lips twitch to return his smile as your hand gently grabs his still resting on your cheek and brings it down to lay on your lap. "I will meet with her later, I'm not ready to face that stress quite yet."

 Sometimes when Jimin stares at you, you swear he can see right through your lies and the mask you wear of the demur princess. You hope with all your heart he doesn't because then he'd know how much you truly wish this wedding he's looking forward to won't happen. As much as you were dreading the date of your wedding day, Jimin grew more passionate as the day grew closer and you couldn't bring yourself to show him your true feelings. 

Just as quickly as his solemn expression came, it left as he leans forward to softly place his plump lips on yours. "That's fine; it just means I get to have you to myself a little longer."

As your lips separate and you connect your eyes with his, you vow to yourself that you will at least try to hide your pain from this remarkable man in front you. He truly only deserved happiness in his life. You just failed to realize how impossible that vow would be as the days grew closer and your sanity quickly began to leave you.

Things were perfect. Things were falling into place so easily into your life. You were marrying the man of everybody’s dreams tomorrow. Prince Jimin is the definition of the perfect husband; kind, gentle, understanding, incredibly handsome...so why on earth did you feel so empty every time he smiled at you? Why did your heart stay still every time his fingers caressed your face? Why did the butterflies stay stagnant in your stomach whenever his lips brushed yours? 

Was there something wrong with you? In the late nights as he slept beside you and the crickets chirped, your eyes couldn’t linger on his sleeping face as it only made the hollow feeling grow. Your own brain became a stranger to you while your body tried it’s hardest to have you figure out why you felt so out of place. Feeling as if your own castle walls and corridors that you grew up with were laughing at you for feeling so misplaced.

The faces of your family on the hung portraits blur into a cacophony of pitying stares, urging the void in your heart to consume your breath and leave you to escape out into the gardens for air. Even the flowers that became your friends when you were a child face away from you, hiding their own pity for what has become of your sanity.

Time passes and the cold ground you sat on at some point is biting into your skin, sending shivers throughout your veins until the cold settles deep within your bones. It should scare you; how comforting the chill feels compared to the warmth of your fiance’s body. Why couldn’t you be happy? Why did this hollowness persist to linger even when you try your hardest to be content?

Desperation claws at your throat and the urge to scream is debilitating; forcing you to stand and quickly run to escape the tears threatening to fall. Your sleeping gown tries it's hardest to stop you with each step, pleading for you to stop and head back to bed. But your body knows better. 

Your feet carry you despite the ground turning rough as you enter the grounds leading to the stables and they continue to lead you until you reach the stable containing your Friesian stallion. Your breath comes out in puffs in front of you from the cold, but you don’t feel the ice slowly chilling your skin, too busy staring at the horse you grew up with. Or so you were told, as you can’t pull a single memory of you ever riding it.

And even still, this quiet stable filled with all the horses used for the royal family feels more like your home than the bed containing your husband to be. Your heart feels warm and the feeling has your eyes watering; how long has it been since you felt like you belonged? Why did this beautiful stallion look at you with all the answers you’re seeking in its black eyes?

“___...?”

For the first time in months you feel your heart skip a beat at the deep voice softly calling your name, lulling the lingering desperation in your soul. Your lids even flutter closed for a quick moment as your ears savor the sound like molten gold. Your body felt so starved suddenly; a sound you had no idea you were craving and the abrupt longing you felt for this stranger had tears fighting to escape your eyes.

“___– I mean – your highness, are you alright? What are you doing out here so late at night? It isn’t safe for you to be alone here.”

You taste salt as the tears rush down your face and your body physically aches at the concern you can hear so palpable in his voice. Despite your body vibrating with ardent yearning to turn around and hold the man behind you, your mind keeps you frozen in confusion. You shouldn’t feel so at home here and you most definitely shouldn’t feel such a disturbing amount of longing for a man you don’t recognize. The desperation returns with a roar and shakes your body as the tears continue to fall; the hollow feeling eating away at your heart.

“Princess please answer me, you are beginning to worry me,” the man is closer and with a tentative hand he touches your arm, almost lovingly so.

The gentle touch has your control breaking as it ignites a want in you so strong that it has your mind reeling; thoughts fighting each other to be heard. A violent sob rips out of your throat as you quickly turn to face the man, desperate in seeing who is causing your reality to break. Only you weren’t ready and now your world is upside down.

Soft, brown eyes and full lips that rival Jimin’s rest on such a handsome face, with such delicate features and yet the sharp edge of his jaw and strong brows show his masculinity. His figure is tall and broad, with strong hands that hover over your skin in caution, not wanting to upset you further. But the damage is done.

Who is he and why do you feel like he’s holding the missing piece to a puzzle you had no idea you were trying to solve?

“Princess –”

“Don’t,” you cut him off before he can continue, your chest heaving with the sobs you try repressing and your tears showing no signs of stopping, “please don’t.”

The tall man closes his mouth and retracts his hovering hand, bones cracking at how strongly he closes it into a fist. He stays quiet, but his eyes show a sadness so deep it cuts into your soul. 

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair how you’re the only one who’s kept in the dark about a secret no one wants to reveal. It was driving you mad.

“Who are you?” The man sucks in a breath, so silent you might have missed it were it not for the silent night; his eyes look even more pained. And madder you became. “I asked you a question! Who are you?!”

The anguish in his eyes rips your heart apart and makes your bottom lip quiver, the tears not once pausing their descent. But somehow his response does little to quiet your desolation and it only makes your fall into madness accelerate, confusion bleeding into your tears. 

“I am just the stable boy for the royal family’s steeds.”

You had no explanation as to why his answer felt so wrong it simultaneously angered you and shattered your heart. He was only the stable boy after all. Your emotions are beyond control now as you fall to your knees and begin to sob with all your heart, fingers grasping at your face while your body trembles. Why couldn't the gods take pity on you and return your lost memories? Why were you being punished so cruelly?

"Princess….please don't cry," the man's voice sounds agonized as he kneels beside you, not being able to help himself as he lays his hands on your arms. "It wasn't my intention to make you cry...please, I am not worth the tears."

If anyone were to ask you where you were tonight, you'd say you took a walk through your gardens, but you couldn't bring yourself to question why you let yourself be held by the stable boy. There was an undeniable feeling of being complete and whole as his arms wrap around you to pull you into his chest. Your heart is so loud in your ears from the speed its beating and your soul sings in contentment as your face buries itself in his sturdy chest. 

It wasn't just you who was affected; however, your ear can hear how quickly his heart is pounding in his chest as his own form trembles. A rush of euphoria and a feeling of belonging go through you as your tears are caught by his shirt. Why did this feel so right? Why did being in this stranger's arms bring you more comfort than your own husband's to be?

It's as Jimin flashes in your mind that you realize how inappropriate this situation is. Instead of the feeling of euphoria comforting you, it only serves to have your mind breaking further. Why did this simple stable hand make you feel all of these things no one else could? 

Despite your burning desperation to uncover the darkness surrounding your past, now that there is something possibly triggering your mind, you are suddenly ready to run. You're afraid of the truth.

The man's face contorts into one of hurt and confusion as you are quick to push him from you, swiftly getting to your feet to harshly wipe the tears from your eyes. Your breathing comes in sharp exhales as you turn your back on him, no longer able to watch his soulful eyes as it wrought emotions within you. This is dangerous. You are to be wed tomorrow. 

"___, I –"

"I should go."

His words get choked and you can hear him quickly get to his feet, his hand gently cupping your elbow. Why was he so desperate to keep you here? What was it that he knew that you didn't? And why on earth did your name falling from his lips bring goosebumps all over your skin?

"Don't...don't leave just yet," his voice is soft, but strained with emotion as his fingers gently squeeze your elbow, trying his hardest to have you look at him. "Please, I just want –"

"I am getting married tomorrow." His voice cuts off and you aren't sure why you felt the need to state your business to him, but you just knew that it made your heart break. "It is not appropriate for me to be here, I really should leave."

The air is tense with emotion and it's as his hand leaves your skin that you only wish to turn around to comfort him. But this is why you couldn't. He made you feel things you shouldn't and it terrifies you. He is not the man you are marrying. 

The male behind you no longer speaks and you are much too afraid to turn around; knowing your resolve would break and the temptation to have him answer your questions would be too great. So you begin taking your first steps away from him, feeling your own soul screaming to turn back, but your fear encouraging you to keep walking. You deny to yourself how walking away from the man behind you is cracking your heart beyond repair and it is a secret you will take to your grave. 

You had already vowed to yourself that you would be the perfect wife for prince Jimin. Even if it cost your happiness.

Cheers and congratulations fill the air as guests come to you with smiles, gushing about how beautiful the ceremony was, how gorgeous you looked in your dress and how handsome your fiancé, no, your husband appeared. Jimin is glowing with pride beside you as his arm refuses to leave your waist, every so often his eyes glance to you and his hold tightens, almost as if reassuring himself you truly are his now. It only reminds you of his vow he announced to the kingdom earlier and his confession of having first adored you when you two met as kids. Swoons rang in the cathedral and envious stares bored holes into you as every young woman no doubt wished they were in your shoes. 

Perhaps it would be ill advised for you to offer them your place. You had to be the happy bride after all.

"I can't wait until I can have you properly in my arms tonight," Jimin's breath is hot against your ear as his arm brings you closer to him, taking advantage of the small reprieve of guests at the moment. "I want to show you just how much I love you my darling."

Your heartbeat remains steady as your lips automatically stretch into a practiced smile, your hand gently cupping his cheek and body angling toward him. A picture of the perfect couple. "I am also looking forward to it."

Jimin simply gives you his own small smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead, not needing to vocally express his thoughts to you. 

You both knew.

The day passes you by in a whirlwind of colors, laughter, alcohol and music; staring at the festivities before you as a stranger. You watched yourself smile and dance, watched as you fooled your parents and your guests. 

But there was no fooling the man who now buried his face in your neck, tracing your throat with his lips and your body with his hands. His motions were almost desperate and his passionate words sang like a melody wishing to coax you to move. There was no denying that your whimpers and moans were real as his sinful tongue spelled out his desire for you between your legs. Truly you married the perfect man.

But he knew.

"I swear I will make you happy my love," his sticky lips connect with yours, his hands greedily squeezing your bare body, words desperately muttered between kisses, "I swear to always show you how much I love you."

Even if you never love me back. It was unsaid, but it was a truth neither of you needed to reaffirm. 

Your moans pitch in volume as he moves inside of you, hips mercilessly connecting with yours with each deep thrust he delivers, creating a delicious symphony of slapping skin and groans of pleasure. You can almost fool yourself into thinking that your heart is racing due to the emotions and you can nearly convince yourself that when you close your eyes, the image of the man behind your lids as you reach your high is your husband and not the stranger you left at the stables a night ago.

But...you knew.

"Did ye hear? The queen is pregnant!"

"After all these years? I'd say that's a miracle."

"Aye, the whole kingdom is due to celebrate it soon no doubt."

"But surely you two have also heard the whispers about the pregnancy? I heard the queen had to find men outside of her husband to do the job. It was rumored the king had gone infertile after the princess was born."

"If you know what's good for ye, you'd keep that to yourself. Truth or not, if a royal guard dare hear ye…"

"Oh hush! We all know they never come scouting around these parts."

"It does make sense; I have to give ye that. It explains why the king and queen easily let princess ___ move to Vesta. We all know how protective of the gal they were."

"It is a shame though; did you hear what happened to Kim's boy?"

"The lad who works at the royal stables? What happened to him?"

"Well old Mary down the road told me how Kim came asking if she'd seen 'em, apparently the lads been missing for a week now."

"Oh, that is a shame! He was a good man, that one. Don't suppose it's due to those old rumors of him being involved with the princess?"

"That's crazy talk, do you really believe a princess would be fooling around with a stable hand?"

"Crazy or not, I believe it was true. Ain't you a sucker for a modern day Romeo and Juliet?"

"I ain't much of a romantic, but I do feel sorry for 'em if it is true. Because if my memory serves me right, Romeo and Juliet don't end in a happy ending."

[joonsrack]

+Pairing: Seokjin x Gender neutral reader

+Genre: One shot, heavy angst, L2E.

+Word count: 4.8k

+Warnings: PG, Theme of infidelity, alcohol as a coping mechanism, swearing, SFW, codependency, breaking up, unhappy ending.

+Summary: 

Living with the love of your life is everything you hoped it would be like, and more. You get to wake up to him (almost) every morning, eat his cooking, share your moods, hear his laughter… Now things would be easier if the man you love wasn’t someone else’s husband.

+A/N: Hellooooooooooo. This is for the collab Outro: Tears - The angst now told, put together by the amazing @personawife​. This is my first time writing heavy angst and unhappy ending, as I tend to keep my stuff pretty fluffy. It was definitely a challenge and it took me out of my comfort zone, but I’m glad I did it. Will I ever do it again? Probably not. But it allowed me to explore, so that was pretty nice. Thank you to the wonderful @namjooniebjonesuniverse​ for betaing my dumb french ass and giving me helpful guidance, ily bb. Title from 134340, the most superior bts song of all time.

Three knocks on the door pull you out of your thoughts, bringing you back into the moment. You’re sitting on your couch in your dark living room, a glass of bitter-tasting wine swirling in your hand. It’s usually your favorite bottle, but today it leaves an ashy after taste in the back of your throat.

Not for the first time, you wonder if it’s really worth it. If it’s worth this. These lonely moments where you feel like you’re holding on by a thread, ready to burst at the seams. 

Are they truly a fair price to pay for the happiness you feel when you’re with him?

You put your glass down, unfolding your legs and planting them on the floor, before filling your lungs with much-needed air. 

There’s another series of knocks, more tentative.

He knows you’re in there, but he doesn’t know in what state. He has his own keys, always has, but he’s leaving you the power to open the door or not.

You bite your lips nervously, bracing yourself for the high of emotions you get whenever you see him after a long time. As much as you dread it, the fact that you still get these butterflies might mean that yes, all these moments spent in the dark might be worth it. 

(It’s getting harder to convince yourself.)

You pad quietly to the door, not needing to look through the peephole; no one else would be knocking at your door at this hour.

The sound of the bolt turning rips violently through the deafening silence, and you open the door slowly, before meeting his eyes hesitantly.

You probably look like a mess; lips tinted by wine, hair disheveled from the day, work clothes untidy and creased. It doesn’t stop Seokjin from dropping his suitcase and lifting you in a tight hug, planting his face in the crook of your neck.

He walks a few steps in before depositing you back on your feet, but without letting go. You feel his hands grabbing at your clothes, no intention other than holding on to you; like you’re a vision that might disappear. For some reason, this is the most worrying part.

You drop a soft kiss on his shoulder, before extricating yourself out of his hold. You sidestep him to grab his suitcase lying forgotten on the ceramic of the hallways, depositing it inside and closing the door.

Then you lead Jin backward, loosening his tie for him, discarding it before getting started on his button-up. He watches your fingers work, following after you until your back hits the door frame of your bedroom. 

He uses the opportunity to cage you in, using his finger to raise your chin so he can lock your lips in a soft kiss. You let him pepper your face with kisses, closing your eyes and enjoying the tenderness of it all. If he notices the single tear that trails down your cheek, he doesn’t mention it.

There are very few places you like waking up more than on Seokjin’s chest, head moving in time with the up and down of his steady breathing. 

A fine stream of light is sneaking in through the curtains, hitting you directly in the eyes and bathing the room in a soft morning glow. Seokjin’s skin underneath you is shining a light gold, the warmth of his body getting covetously soaked up by yours.

You two have not had a morning to yourselves in what feels like forever. This morning is all yours to enjoy though, and you plan on basking in his body heat a little more. Laying in bed all day with the love of your life is probably why weekends were invented anyway.

“Morning beautiful,” he says softly, his breath tickling the tip of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He pecks the top of your head, breathing in your morning scent for a second, before starting his long stretching process, dislodging you from your hard-earned heat pocket. You whine a little, but it’s only when he sits up that you truly get offended.

“What are you doing” you pout, holding on for dear life to his middle, plastering your face to where you can reach without actually sitting up too.

“Starting my day?” He says, as he gently unwraps your arm from around his waist.

“Sounds dumb.”

“I’m doing you the honor of making breakfast. You should be grateful.” He grins down at you, pushing your hair out of your face and trying to comb them into submission. Or maybe he’s trying to dishevel you even more, judging from his facial expression.

“There’s apps for that now, old man. You choose what you want and they deliver it to you right at your door.”

He chuckles at your quip, before stepping out of the bed. You’re hoping your age jab goes unpunished, but then he pulls the whole comforter with him, exposing you to the cold air of the room. You shriek in horror, taking offense as he runs off, cackling maniacally.

You’re left slightly shivering, spread out on your back, staring at the ceiling.

There’s a small smile playing at your lips now that Seokjin is out of sight. 

 It’s moments like this, filled with softness and love, that makes it all worth it. 

Right?

After pulling on one of Jin’s sweaters that swallows you whole, and some shorts lying around, you make your way after him, guessing he’ll most definitely be in the kitchen. Sure enough, you spot the discarded comforter on the couch and hear the sound of food making and pans being moved around. You grab the comforter to wrap yourself in it, trudging into the kitchen with a train.

You make your presence known by hugging him from behind, hooking your chin over his shoulder to peek at what’s starting to smell quite nice. You press a kiss into the crook of his neck once you spot the crêpes in the pan.

“Is this your version of apology cookies?” You ask, mentioning for the first time the elephant in the room.

You feel more than hear his sigh, his wide shoulders deflating a little.

“It was completely out of my control” he answers, voice going low and soft. 

“I know, but I still missed you like crazy.”

“It won’t happen again.” 

There’s an edge to his voice, and you rub your thumb into his tummy to soothe him. You almost regret bringing it up, but you’d rather clear the air now than wait for it to fester.

Two weeks ago, Seokjin was leaving for a usual two-night stay for an in-laws family gathering. Somehow, a series of events had extended that small trip to a whole week, and then when he had come back, he’d been swept into work matters. Thus, he hadn’t been home for the whole fortnights, which was the longest you two had spent apart since the day he had basically moved in with you.

“Did something happen?” You ask tentatively. The tension builds up into his whole body hadn’t escaped your notice. You know him too well for that. The moment you had seen him yesterday night, looking completely drained, you knew it wasn’t his habitual bought of work tiredness. 

“…You know, the usual. They’re asking, or more like demanding, things I’m not ready to give.” He answers without elaborating, and you know not to push. 

“Then work was just a shit show.”

“I saw the news.” 

He makes a noncommittal sound before flipping the crêpe with expert precision. His family’s company’s stocks had dropped a few points over a small mismanagement scandal. Nothing that couldn’t be cleared in a few days, but enough of a problem to request Jin’s undivided attention.

“Those better be good enough to make up for two weeks of loneliness.” You tease, but it ends up sounding heavier than you intended, more honest. 

He’s silent a beat too long to be natural, but to your relief, he decides to keep things light.

“I put in a secret ingredient.” He says, his voice laced with mischief. 

You frown curiously while he reaches for something in his jogging’s pockets.

A second later, he pulls out a finger heart, that he proceeds to ‘sprinkle’ over the pan.

You face plant into his shoulder blades with a wide smile, muffling your snickering into his skin. His shoulders shake as he attempts to suppress his laughter rather unsuccessfully. 

You missed him, so bad, everyday, every moment. Craved his presence. This apartment, the home you made with him, doesn’t feel as bright and warm when he’s not here with you. It should scare you, how much of an impact he has on your life, your moods, your needs. You’re usually a pretty fair boss, but the assistants and interns have been avoiding you for the whole week now, so you know his absence had put a greater strain on your mood than you let yourself believe.

In fact, it does scare you a little. Not your love, but the power this love holds over you. Sometimes there are days you look at him and you feel like you could go crazy, do crazy things for him. Even after all these years together, he still has the ability to cause butterflies to burn a hole through your stomach. If anything, it only keeps burning stronger. It’s threatening to consume you, and you’re tempted to let it. 

When you two share moments, staring into each others’ eyes like you just met, you can see those feelings reflected back at you. 

You eat breakfast on the couch, morning dramas on. It’s going to be one of those lazy days, which is exactly what you need. Just some time to enjoy each other’s company, reconnect and forget the stress of being separated for two weeks.

You watch a few episodes in comfortable silence, enjoying the lines of your body meshed together, intertwined on the narrow couch. 

At some point you feel his eyes on you, and you meet them, not expecting what you see there.

You feel a knot tightening in your stomach at his expression; full of worry and incertitude. He quickly morphs it into something more neutral, but it’s too late. You saw, and you know something is wrong. Something that can’t wait.

You recall last night, when he grabbed at you like you might just disappear into thin air. You tried your hardest not to mention it.  Normally you would wait until he’s ready to tell you, but seeing him suffer is making you hurt as well.

You put the tv on pause, sitting up and pulling him up with you so you can be eyes level. You take his hands in between yours, playing with his fingers before smiling reassuringly at him.

"There's something you're not telling me, I can feel it. " You say softly, rubbing gentle circles into his palm.

He looks down at your joined hands, eyes turning sad with a nervous hint. He blinks one too many times, his nervous tell is well known to you.

"I know it's probably related to her... Whatever it is, we can work through it."

Seokjin closes his hands around yours, bringing your hands up to his lips, kissing them softly.

He’s bracing himself, you can see it in the tense line of his broad shoulders, and you make sure to morph your expression into something open, calm and understanding.

His grip on your hands tightens a fraction before becoming looser, and you pick up your gentle ministration again, rubbing small circles into his skin, giving him the time he needs to find the right words.

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out for a long moment. You wait, still, not wanting to ruin his momentum, and just as his lips start moving around his first word, the silence of the room is broken by the loud vibration of his phone, facedown on the living room table.

You both startle, looking down at what ruined this moment, him with a look of apprehension. He reaches for it, cursing at the name on the screen, before throwing you an apologetic look. He doesn't actually meet your eyes, and the tightness in your stomach is back in full force.

"I need to take this." He says, a deep frown creasing his forehead.

You catch sight of her name on the screen.

His wife.

He stands up from the couch, answering the call with a sharp 'what is it' into the phone. You hear the sound of the bedroom door closing shut behind him, and you're once again left alone in the living room.

The temperature of the room drops below freezing point, making every breath a struggle.  

“-/N….Y/N!”

You startle at the sound of your name, looking up to see Taehyung standing in front of your desk, a couple of files under the arm.

"You completely spaced out there."

You look down at your screen, half and email staring back at you. Mondays are usually pretty tough, but today you have not been able to focus for more than 5 minutes straight.

"Everything alright?"

You look up at your friend again, mustering what you think is a normal looking smile. "Of course."

Taehyung winces, looking worried. He walks back to the door to close it, then takes a seat in front of you.

"Talk." He says, putting both his hands down on his crossed legs.

"We're not doing this at work Tae,” you sigh, “ I'm not letting myself be distracted by my personal matters while in my office."

"Yeah well, it's too late for that. You were looking pretty distracted when I walked in; I had to call your name like, five times."

You hold back an eye roll, too old for that. But it's a close call.

"Temporary madness, won't happen again. Thank you for calling me back to earth."

You focus back on your screen dismissively, hoping your friend gets the message.

He doesn't, and you work for a few minutes in his presence before the silence becomes too much.

"Did you have any other business here that required my attention."

"You've been acting out of it for the past two weeks and I put it down on the fact that he wasn't home, but I'm pretty sure he's supposed to be back by now."

You sigh again, annoyed but also tired. Bone tired.

"He...had an emergency. He left yesterday and he won't be here this week either." You say, keeping your eyes on the screen, lest you meet Taehyung's and he reads all the longing and pain in them.

Seokjin had reassured you it would not happen again, and not even 24 hours later he broke his promise. 

It's worth it, you tell yourself. How many times has it been, that you’ve had to remind yourself of that?

Taehyung's expression softens, knowing how much his absence usually affects you.

Your work phone rings, and you thank god for small miracles, getting a break from your friend's all-knowing eyes.

"Yes Jimin," You ask your assistant on the phone, making a shooing motion at Taehyung. Without any surprise, he doesn't budge.

"I have Mrs.Kim Hana on the phone for you, she's saying it's some important matter. should I connect the call?"

Your heart drops to the floor, blood turning icy. Why would she be calling you of all people? The first thing that pops into your mind is Jin. It’s the only logical explanation.

Something must have happened to him, and you usually leave your personal phone on silent during work hours, so she couldn't join you otherwise.

Taehyung examines your face, looking worried. You probably look like you've seen a ghost.

"Yes, yes put her on. Thank you."

The line rings twice before a beep indicates you've been connected.

"This is Y/N speaking." You say, struggling to keep your voice steady.

"Hi, this is Kim Hana."

"Is something the matter, Mrs.Kim?" You ask, knowing she likes insisting on the Kim, to remind you that she's in that position and not you.

"I just had a few questions for you," she says, voice saccharine. You frown. Is that it?

"I'm at work right now, can't this phone call be done sometime tonight?" You ask, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice now that you know there’s no immediate emergency. 

"This will only take a few seconds, I need to be somewhere myself."

You rub your temple with your free hand, not in the mood for her mind games. You two rarely talk unless necessary. You don't exactly hate each other, but her being married to the man you've been dating for the last few years isn't exactly the stellar base for an excellent relationship.

"Go ahead."

"I'll be very straight to the point: Do you have any STDs or any type of transmittable disease?"

The question takes you by surprise, a frown etching itself into your forehead..

"Excuse me?" You ask, tone dry.

"Have you and Seokjin used protection? Probably not, right? You've been sleeping together for what, 3 years?"

You stay silent for a good minute, completely horrified.

"Mrs. Kim, how is that any of your fucking business?"

Taehyung's eyes go wide, not used to hearing you curse sober. These are usually reserved for when you've drunk a little.

"Well, I thought he would have told you, but I see he clearly hasn't.” There’s glee in her voice, and you want to hang up, right now. You know you won’t like what you’re about to hear. 

But it’s stronger than you, and you ask, “Tell me what?”

“Well, you see, our parents are starting to ask for an heir. That would have been the natural course of this marriage, if you weren’t in the way." There’s contempt peeking through the fake lightness of her tone, and she giggles cutely like she hadn't just dropped a bomb on your head.

"...What?" The words don't make sense in your head. They just bounce around, wreaking havoc.

"This is why Seokjin needs to stay here this week, as I am in the prime time of my cycle. If it doesn't take we'll need to try again in the next few months. Our parents were very clear this needs to happen now."

There's a buzzing in your ear, getting louder by the second.

"They demand things I am not ready to give" had said Jin on Sunday.

They demand an heir of him.

You hear yourself talk, but it's very far away. You knew this would happen someday. But not this soon, not right now. You had buried that inevitability deep under a thick layer of denial, and it was springing back out of nowhere, like a kick in the stomach.

"I'm sure you could ask all these questions to the man himself." You say, the tip of your fingers gone numbs.

She chuckles down the line, and you decide to actually start hating her. 

"I guess I could." Is all she answers, before hanging up.

You stay frozen, phone held to your ear, until Taehyung hears the dial tone, take the phone from your hand and hang up for you.

"Who was that?" He asks, mindful of keeping his voice soft.

You rest your face in your hand, pacing your breathing. Now is not the time to lose control. You're at work, you're professional and today is not the day this is going to change.

Except the air is stiff as it enters your lungs, and it burns on the way out. Your hands turn into fists, nails digging into the skin, as you try your hardest not to break.

This? This feeling coursing through your body? This is not worth it.

This week was supposed to be spent coming home to Jin's cooking after another long day at work, or waking up early to make you both a cup of coffee before heading out to the office, stealing a morning kiss on the way.

Except you're alone once more, sitting on your couch in the living room you love so much when he's here, swirling wine that darkens the color of your lips a shade too deep and leaves ashes on your tongue. Instead, you'll be eating some quick fix in a kitchen that looks empty, silent save for the sound of your cutlery. You'll be waking up to cold bedsheets and pillows, startling morning lights mocking your loneliness. You’ll be sitting in the dark, wondering how long until you can feel warm again.

You should probably hate him right now. He made up some stories instead of telling you the truth, disappearing to accomplish his conjugal duties. You wonder if he even plans on telling you. He would have to one day or another since the desired endgame here is to have a baby. He couldn’t hide a pregnancy from you; their public status might not be equal to a celebrity, but an heir officializing the merge of Seokjin’s and Hana’s family businesses would be worth a mention in an economic magazine somewhere, which would ultimately come back to you.

An heir.

Something you could never give him.

How can your relationship possibly get past this? How would it even work? Knowing Jin, knowing his gentle and nurturing nature, he wouldn’t be able to stay away from his child. And you would never ask that of him. How could you ask him to be an absent father to his child, knowing how much Jin suffered from it. 

So what does that make you both, what does that mean for you? More of this? More of loneliness? More of everything you hate? You’d have to stay here, alone, hidden away. He would come to see you occasionally, maybe not even stay the night. You’d have stolen moments with him, nothing more. 

The idea scares you, freezes you over. There’s tears wetting your cheeks, so many of them,  and you’re just letting them escape freely. You have months of repressed emotions raging to get out, making you sob and hick up uncontrollably. You feel like screaming, like ripping your hair out, anything to calm the burning sensation in your guts.

You do none of those. Instead, you pass out on the couch from exhaustion, feeling completely and utterly empty.

There’s an omnipresent silence in the room, heavy and deafening, making your ears ring.

Its tendrils are slowly getting longer, sucking all the air out and invading every corner of the room, leaving you breathless, gasping. 

You look down at your glass of wine, its ashy color reflecting the taste it left in the back of your throat. You swirl it around, but the glass turns to dust in your hand, escaping your hold.

You look at the man facing you. There’s a vicious smile stretching your lips, barely concealing the depth of your cruel viciousness. You want to hurt him. 

Sitting on the other side of the dining table, Seokjin is looking at you somewhat the same way. Except he’s not trying to conceal anything, he’s looking at you with pure unadulterated hatred.

The light streaming in from the windows is dull, mocking the memories that were made in this same room. They shift suddenly, the sky getting clouded, turning darker by the second until it’s as dark as the night.  Seokjin is now just a shadow, sitting on the other side of the table, yet far away. The temperature drops, the air turning so frigid your breath is coming out foggy.

Silence can be scarier than any monster. It’s always hungry for more.

You wake up gasping, choking on nothing, only the silence surrounding you. Except something woke you up, pulled you out of your nightmare.

There’s a banging at the door.

You look at the time, your eyes puffy from crying yourself to sleep.

It’s a little after 1:00 am, and if you don’t stop this racket you’ll hear from a very angry neighbor tomorrow.

You make a beeline to the door, your heart pounding from the residue of your dream and the abrupt awakening.

You rip the door open, not even bothering to check through the peephole first, scared another series of banging is coming.

Jin is barely standing, resting his weight on the door frame, face shadowed by his hair. 

He reeks of alcohol, eyes half open and wet looking.

His face twists in pain at the sight of you, and his body dangerously dips forward before you react and catch him, helping him stand. You spy his keys on the floor, probably where he dropped them after trying to unlock the door in his intoxicated state.

“Hey…” You say, walking him inside and to the couch, carrying most of his weight as he tries with uncoordinated arms to hug you to him.

He’s letting out a litany of slurred words, suspiciously sounding like apologies.

You deposit him on the couch, before walking back to the door, grabbing the keys from the floor before shutting and locking it. You pass by the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and then you make your way back to him.

He’s already asleep, body slumped forward. You shake him awake, needing to make sure he drinks at least a cup before you let him drift off.

“Here.” You say, and you help him drink.

He manages to finish the cup with your help, and you put it away on the living room table.

You expect him to go back straight to sleep, but instead, he flails around until he has your face in between his hands, unfocused eyes searching yours.

He slurs some words, and you can barely make out anything he’s saying, but you catch “Sorry” and “I love you” and “children” and “Hana”, so you can easily deduct what this is about. You shush him. Now was not the time to talk about any of this.

You help him out of his jacket, belt and shoes, to make his night more comfortable. You’re playing with the idea of leaving him the couch, going to your bedroom, but he grabs your arm loosely, leveling pleading eyes at you. 

“Do you feel nauseous?” You ask in one last half-hearted attempt.

He shakes his head, so you wait until he lays down and then you join him, arranging both your bodies so you can fit comfortably.

He’s out like a leaf, already snoring softly by the time you’re done shifting around. You take advantage of this moment to steal a good look at his face.

Now that it’s quiet again, you find yourself thinking back about your nightmare. The man in your nightmare held hatred for you. It was transpiring from every pore of his body, and so was it from yours.

You know Jin, you know him by heart. But the person sitting on the other end of that table was a stranger.

You shiver at the thought, at the suffocating feeling that was surrounding you, in that dark kitchen, with the scariest monster hanging over both your heads. The feeling that was coursing through you, so opposite from what you feel for him, yet so similar. 

You focus on Jin to try and change your mind, but something jumps out to you.

Jin, who’s always ever showered in the morning, has freshly cleaned hair. If you focus, underneath the stench of alcohol, there’s the clean scent of body wash, the one he always uses when he needs to sleepover at their house.

The realization grips you then, that tonight was probably night number one of their attempt at a child.

That Jin hated it so much that he showered, got plastered, and made his way back home. To you.

And you hate it. Hate this fucked up situation. Hate him a little, too.

And it hurts. It hurts so much, thinking about the hurt you’re about to make him go through. How the decision you’ve just reached is going to make him suffer.

But you just know that your dream, it’s a warning. You can feel it in your bones. This situation is not something you can ignore until it goes away, and trying to work around it will only drive you both crazy. Drive you to hate.

The love you have for each other is strong and fierce and so alive, but you’ve heard what they say about love and hate. 

The line is so thin between the two, and you’re too scared to find out how a love like yours would change into hate. How deep it would run, and how much it would twist you and the man you love. You’ve witnessed it in your dream, like your subconscious felt the need to point it out. 

So you’ve reached a conclusion.

But for now, you hug Jin closer to your body, enjoying his body heat as much as you can. You don’t know how many times you’ll get to do that, a silent clock ticking in the back of your mind. 

With every tick, the silence grows louder, and your bones get colder.

[mochimiyas]

don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms

summary: interviewer: “when did you realize that miya osamu no longer loved you the same way he did in the beginning?”

warnings: angst, mentions of depression, implied cheating, mentions of miya atsumu and suna rintarou

pairings: timeskip!miya osamu x reader

a/n: i just woke up today and chose violence uwu. content is under the cut!

-

‘what a coincidence...’ you pondered to yourself as you looked outside your window, the condensation making it hard for you to make out the figures running to their homes, cars rushing to their destination for the day. it rarely rained during the spring in hyogo. normally hyogo had warm, yet refreshing cool breezes; it always felt as if spring was gently guiding you through their season.

today... seemed different. 

your normal morning routine didn’t wake you up the way it usually does. you woke up 5 minutes later than your alarm clock, throwing you off your balance as you rushed to shut that annoying beeping noise. groaning, you threw your comforter out of the way and placed your feet on the cold, cold tiles, seeking warmth in your fuzzy slippers. 

they weren’t in the place they should be in. 

your senses started to fully awaken, and you finally took in the state of your room. work clothes thrown haphazardly on your love seat in the corner, your slippers sitting nice and prettily against the door to your bathroom. 

why was everything so out of place?

confusion started to settle in your features as you walked up to your restroom, feet snuggling into your slippers as you flicked on the light, your reflection staring hauntingly back at you. letting out a sigh, you continued the rest of your morning routine, hoping to get rid of the uneasy feeling settling in your bones. 

-

click. clack. click. 

every click and clack of their shoes gnawed at the back of your conscience, the slight tremble in your figure starting to feel overwhelming as you looked up, standing to greet the interviewer as they did the same. 

sick, you just felt sick to your stomach at their smile. 

“thank you so much for coming to the interview! here at as/is japan, we want to expand and broaden japan’s society, showing our audience that anyone, including celebrities and every day people, that everyone goes through similar issues. we’re hoping through this video that we can convey that they’re not alone in this, and we’re all in this together,” they explained, gesturing to the group of people being ushered into the waiting rooms to get prepped. 

you laughed nervously, “i hope so as well. it’s a very thoughtful video for you guys to prepare for your audience.”

the sound of the clapperboard startled you, the director behind the camera holding up three fingers, slowly counting down before the camera started rolling. 

the interviewer cleared their throat and pointed to the camera, indicating to maintain eye contact with the device. 

they started. 

[today at as/is japan, we asked questions about their relationships and why it ended. we’re going over the topic of heartbreak today. so please, introduce yourself.]

“my name is y/n. i used to be in a relationship for six years with the owner of onigiri miya, miya osamu. we ended our relationship last year in march.”

[i’m sorry to hear that but wow! you dated one of the miya twins. how was it dating the famous miya osamu?]

“it was just amazing. i didn’t care for the fact he was famous, and we started dating way before he opened his restaurant; i believe it was our third year when we finally sealed the deal, haha. miya-san is kind, super attentive, and just overall a great man. anyone would be so lucky to have him.”

[gosh, he really does live up to the name. miya osamu is truly known to be the quiet one compared to his brother, but i’ve always thought twins would have the same personality y’know?]

“right? i thought the same when i first met them at the beginning of high school, and until i started hanging out with them, my perspective has changed.” 

[good to know. moving on, what caused your relationship to fall?]

“...it was our third year anniversary. we somewhat had a routine when it came to our anniversary. we always went to awaji island early in the morning to rent a boat and fish for the day. he and i really enjoy basking in nature, so it was ideal for the both of us. when i woke up at the usual time, i usually snuggle with him before we have to get ready.”

“when i woke up, he wasn’t there, and it was downhill from there.”

[a-ah, y/n-san you don’t have to continue if you don’t feel comfortable. here, a tissue.]

sniff. “thank you, but i would like to continue.”

[as you wish. may i ask what’s happened since your third year anniversary?]

“he... osa- miya-san slowly, but surely stopped being affectionate with me. mornings that were filled with loving kisses turned to waking up alone. lunches that used to be spent together were now filled with empty promises and excuses, saying he had plans to eat lunch with someone else. truthfully, i didn’t think too much of it, and kept supporting him from the sidelines, even if it meant not being able to see him as much.” 

gasps overloaded your senses. [when did you realize that miya osamu no longer loved you the same way as he did in the beginning?]

pause.

“i... fuck, i need to get my shit together.” 

you took a moment to breathe.

in, and out. in, and out.

“on our six year anniversary, i tried to set up our usual routine, and it seemed like he was on board with it. for the past three years, miya-san made excuses, saying things like, ‘i need to meet up with a rep from an investment company,’ or ‘i made a promise to atsumu and rin to meet up with them.’ i could give less shit if it was an ordinary day but it was our anniversary for fucks sake! i had so much hope that he would stay, wake up in bed with me, do our usual, and just be with each other for once.”

in, and out. in and out, in-

“i woke up to an empty space right next to me. it was barely warm, so it meant that he’s been out for a while. i remember being so fucking angry, so torn up inside. how could he flake on me again? i walked to the restroom and saw his phone on the sink counter. i didn’t think too much of it until his phone lit up, and i saw a preview of a message he received. i knew right then and there that this relationship was done for good, so i packed all of my stuff and left without a trace. blocked him and all of his friends on everything and moved away.”

[is there anything you would like to say to our audience, and quite possibly miya-san if he’s watching this?]

“to the as/is japan fans, thank you for tuning in. i hope you all know that you’re not alone, and even the nicest people in this world can be scum bags. my advice to everyone is to make sure you’re in a relationship where one isn’t sacrificing more than the other, and that your happiness isn’t defined by theirs. i’ve always thought whenever miya-san was happy, i was too yet there was still a void in my heart every time i questioned it; make sure it’s genuine and real. and as for miya-san...”

ahem. 

“miya osamu. i don’t hate you, and i never will. i’ve forgiven you a long time ago. truthfully speaking, the day he told us that he would be trying out for teams in tokyo and i saw that look in your eyes, i knew i would never be enough yet i kept on trying. for six years, i’ve chased after you to make you stay while you had eyes for him, traveling to set up your stands at his games. you even had the audacity to invite me to one of his games. i wish you could’ve ended it when you realized it because to this day, i... i’m still in love with you unfortunately, and i don’t know if i ever will stop. please stop searching for me. i just want to be left alone and for him, i hope you make osamu happy.”

wiping your tears, you bowed towards the camera, faintly hearing the clapperboard as you stood up. you bowed once again to the crew members and made your way to the exit, the sound of the light shower soothing your senses. looking up, you smiled. 

‘what a coincidence...’ you pondered to yourself as you saw the sun shyly peeking out from gray, murky clouds. 

- 

gray eyes stared blankly at the outro of the video, the screen illuminating his grave features. 

he brought his hand up to wipe the tears on his sunken cheeks, the action causing for more tears to leak out. miya osamu finally felt the consequences of his actions catch up to him, and he couldn’t take it any longer. every single word that left your lips, your sad smile; it felt as if there were thousands upon thousands of needles pricking his heart. 

to hear that you still loved him, yet didn’t want to do anything with him, killed him inside. 

... “i’m so fuckin’ sorry y/n, i’m so fuckin’ sorry-”

[heyheshi]

Her

2.8k words

written and uploaded: September 10 - 11, 2020

🌙 - angst

Please like and reblog! Also please don't post my writings anywhere!

I'm sorry this is a bit late, I was really busy the whole day! Also i feel like this isn't too angsty or this isn't as heartbreaking as i wanted it to be haha probably because I'm too tired right now, it's 3:00 am where I live but i really wanted to write it since this concept has been with me since i first started writing and i feel like i can nail it since me and this guy broke up just this last Saturday lol. But idk i don't think i gave this one a justice but please let me know!!

Also i tweeked some of the details of the whole album release as well as the album/song meaning/interpretation itself.

Btw! I'm planning on writing a second part and hopefully a third part which will have a spin off so tell me if you want me to write it!

Stream the songs in BOLD LETTERS AKA THE WHOLE ALBUM.

Masterlist

_________

You're proud. You're so proud of him, so fucking proud of your best friend - your boyfriend. You don't remember the last time you felt like this - you're anxious, excited, scarred - everything and you felt like you might pass out with every tick of the seconds of the clock.

You look like a crazy person. Sitting at the end of the edge of the couch, your foot tapping rapidly along with your ranging mind. Your natural nails now looks awful from how much you've bitten it for God knows how long. Your hair disheveled together with your now wrinkled clothes.

Harry on the other hand looks calm - too calm for your liking and you wanna scream at him for still looking so good even though you know he's also just as tense as you, maybe even more, but you can't. Not on one of the most special occasions in his life.

Tonight is the release date of his second solo album "Fine Line". You couldn't fathom how much sleepless nights he went through just to produce this - along with the crew and you couldn't be any less prideful. Harry has been so hands on, from the tunes, to the lyrics, to the instrumentals, to the photo shoot for the album cover, and even in the promo of the album.

You know everything he went through just to make it to his success right now. All the hardships, the pain, the tears, the laughter, the love - you've been there every step of the way. You never left him like how he left her.

And on that note, you felt like it's unfair if you get to hear the album first. Yes, you're there throughout the making but you never heard all of it. Harry insisted that you listen to the album after he's done recording it and as much as you'd love to, you politely declined and protested to just hear it along with the rest of the world, to which he agreed to.

There's just this thrill you're looking for, the thrill of having something you've wanted for a long time. The desire. The hunger. The yearn of hearing it for the first time after waiting for endless nights.

It's like being away from Harry and waiting in your room, longing for his touch, his kiss, his voice, and his presence and when he comes back - all of those explodes within you and it leaves you with the magical feeling that you couldn't feel anywhere else.

The process has been painful for you. He recorded in a different country and you had to do long distance again. At first it was fine but as the weeks passed, it got harder and harder for the both of you - being away from each other - so H insisted that you flew across the world to join him.

You didn't hesitate to say yes but even then, Harry always stays at the studio for days and comes home only for him to leave again but you understand. It's his work and you knew what you signed up for when you became his girlfriend and you vowed to yourself to fight and do everything you can for this relationship.

He was great though, took you on dates when he can and tried to spend as much time as he can with you because he knows that after the release of his album, the interviews will surely be nonstop and he'll be away again to plan for his promotional tour. You'd wake up with cute notes more often than not, flowers were also delivered almost everyday to where you two are staying.

But you felt it. You felt that he was slowly slipping away. You know it deep inside but you pretended not to notice. Too afraid of being kicked out of this world you created for the two of you. But perhaps he never really slipped away because maybe he was never truly yours in the first place.

Harry is so excited for you to hear his second baby so when the alarm clock went off, he quickly refreshed the website and played the first song. Golden.

You love the vibe. It's only the first song but you know that it'll be added to your personal playlist to jam with. He was looking at you the whole time, gauging your reaction but stayed quiet. The living room's filled with his voice and the lively instrumentals until the outro.

Maybe you're wrong. Maybe he wasn't slipping away and maybe he was truly yours before - and until now. Maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you. Maybe, just maybe. A fifty - fifty chance for everything you don't know but you didn't let it eat you.

Next, the Watermelon Sugar. It is the song you knew will be a single and will have a music video. Just because you haven't heard the album before doesn't mean it stops Harry from sharing details here and there to you.

Your thoughts ran wild with thought of what the music video could be. The song is everything and you couldn't stop humming along with it and based on your reactions, he knew that he made the right choice of picking it as a single.

He's still yours. He loves you and he never slipped through your fingertips. You're most likely forcing yourself to believe it and so far it's working but you know you have to talk to Harry about the two of you sooner or later because it's not healthy for your health at all - the uncertainty that's currently laying in your persona.

The next two songs - Adore You and Lights Up - are the one's you've already heard before since those are the two that have a music video that came out before his album. Adore You is your favorite song. You're maybe being biased but the song just gives you great energy and you absolutely adored the concept of the video, as well as Harry's looks.

But the Lights Up hits different. You were there when they shoot it but you were sick so you didn't get go watch how they did it and you remembered watching the video for the first time and getting really really bothered by it that Harry had to take you to the nearest ice cream shop to calm you down. Your boyfriend looked so hot in it.

You're enjoying the album so far and you're almost too sure that nothing is wrong - or so you thought. It's silly but for some reason you felt like your relationship lies on this album.

Cherry came next, before, you thought it's gonna be upbeat like the Watermelon Sugar and Kiwi but oh boy, it's the opposite. It's not only the tune. It's the song itself that made you wanna walk out of the room.

You love songs like this, the type of songs that cuts deep within your soul. The type of song that can make you cry instantly but this is different.

You know the song is about her and if it the lyrics wasn't enough to slap you in the face, the voicemail at the end surely did. But this one hits different. Maybe it's because it shows you that Harry is not entirely yours in your relationship and that something inside him longs wants to have her again and it hurts. It crushes you but you're staying strong because like before, it's not certain - a maybe, there's still a chance and you're clinging into that like your life depends on it.

You couldn't look up. You know Harry is watching you. He tried to hide the outro, he almost clicked the button for the next track but you held your hand as a sign to stop. He couldn't hide it from you. The outro is still ringing in your ears like it's coming to get you. You can't. You just simply can't. Her voice with his giggles made you wonder what's running through his mind when he decided to put the voicemail.

You tried to hold your emotions and waited for the next song to start but it didn't get any better. Falling made your tears fall, finally. And when your boyfriend asked you if you're okay, the only response you told him was that, "you were so good with this it's making me really emotional", and he bought it.

He bought your lie. You don't know if you shall be happy or not. Happy because you wouldn't need to explain yourself further or sad because Harry believed it instantly without even asking if you're really okay for the second time.

The chorus hits different. You're baffled at how much emotion he put in that particular song. It felt so wrong but you couldn't do anything about it. You're sad. You're hurt. You don't know what will happen next. So you did what you do best - pretend that everything is alright.

Your mind was absent through the next two songs - To Be So Lonely and She. You still can't get over from the previous songs and it guilt you that you couldn't appreciate these songs as much as it shall be appreciated. All you know is that if Harry made it, it's fucking incredible.

He did mention to you in a low voice that To Be So Lonely is one of his favorites and oh you fucking wonder why but you didn't say it out loud, you kept quiet and pretended that you're analyzing every second of the song. And when he told you that She could be added to your love-making playlist, you only nodded.

The thought of it being added to your love-making playlist sickens you to the core specially now that you're almost too certain that this one is also about her, though you didn't reprimanded.

You tried to compose yourself along with the next song Sunflower, Vol. 6. You faked being happy just for the sake of this day. Yes, it is a happy and loving song but you couldn't enjoy it without overanalyzing the lyrics and the same goes to the next song Canyon Moon.

Who is the "Sunflower" Harry is referring to? You or her? Who will he be coming home to? Will he come running into your arms or will he seek warm in her presence? You hate to question it and you hate feeling this way but you're far too deep and you just wanted to get this night over.

Treat People with Kindness reminded you of your childhood cartoon theme songs and it eased you out. It also made you smile for the first time since Cherry and you could tell that Harry's relieved. It was the first time you looked up from the carpet and you almost thought that the next song is your saving grace. It's the final song anyway.

And it is. The only problem is that the song is you right now. Fine Line. The chorus kept repeating and it made you question your relationship. Is your relationship a fine line? Will the two of you be alright?

Thank God it's the last song because you couldn't wait to ask Harry something that really bothered you tonight. You need to know for your sake and for the sake of this relationship.

You'll be lying if you said you only shed a tear on the last song. No, you sobbed and Harry tried to console you and asked what's wrong and its now or never.

Harry beat you to speaking first though, he asked you why did you cried and you only told him, "I'm so proud of you and I couldn't stop my tears from flowing and I love you so much.", which is not a lie but not the whole truth either.

He only nodded and kissed your forehead as a way of saying his thanks. You're certain that he can feel that you're tired so he chooses to stay quiet and you know that he's already planning for a day off for the both of you tomorrow so you can properly tell him your thoughts on his album.

You we're about to ask him. Ask him if he still loves her but the tune of his phone ringing made you stop. He silently asked you if it's alright to answer it and you agreed.

The next few minutes was his friends and families calling and congratulating him. You don't wanna be bitter or be a mood disruptor but you just really want to think and be alone right now, after all, you deserved it. You signed Harry that you will go upstairs to take a rest and he whispered "I love you" but you only nodded and started walking to the stairs.

He didn't notice that you didn't say it back. He was too caught up with the people on his screen. His cheerful voice rang throughout the ground floor as he talks to the other person on the other line.

You don't wanna think about it as you lay down on your shared bed but you couldn't stop thinking about how much of a possibility for her to call him to congratulate him for the success of his second album. You couldn't stop thinking of how they might talk about their relationship. You couldn't stop thinking if Harry will ask her to come back if she did call. You couldn't stop thinking.

You took your phone from your beside table to open Twitter. Harry and his album is trending and praises after praises we're posted in different languages but most of those are about them. Harry and her.

You're numb.

It is now clear to you that the whole album is about her. You never asked or wished to have a song written about you but you also never expected him to dedicate the album solely to her, his ex from two years ago. You get it, you really do. The best songs came from the writers' personal experiences but to basically tell the world that he still wants her breaks you into pieces.

There gotta be at least one line about you. You, the one he is with now and not her. You, the one who's loving him now, not her. You, the one who didn't leave him unlike her. It's you and not her.

But no matter how much you repeat it in your mind, you know it's not you. You love Harry and you tried. Tried supporting him through the day much like all the other days but it's so hard when the universe already shot you with the truth.

You're still proud of him, it will never change but you need something. You have to have something to hold on to because right now you're only grasping to this very little hope that might save your relationship. You're proud but hurt and you hate yourself for not being there. None of it is about you. It's about her. Her and him. Her and Harry. Never you and Harry.

He never even warned you that the album is about her, it seems like he wanted to surprise you but you know he's not cruel but maybe you're just trying to defend him from yourself.

Or maybe he didn't thought you'd think this way. After all he doesn't put meanings behind his songs so you couldn't really get any answer from having him explain to you every song.

Your own interpretation's more than enough though. He still wants her. Maybe he did became yours even just for a second but his love for her is eternal and so he slipped away. You couldn't pretend anymore - not now when you're alone and you can show your emotions, so you sobbed.

You cried for you and Harry. You cried for what you thought was something so beautiful and unbreakable. You cried for what would've been a great night for the both of you and last but not the least, you cried for your uncertain tomorrow.

Tomorrow when you wake up, you don't know if Harry still wants you, you don't know if you can fix this, you don't know if you can still be with him.

Now, you realized it. Tomorrow there might be nothing, no world where only the two of you exists because tomorrow might be the end. The thought of that made you cried harder than you already are. It's so unfair. You love him so much but it doesn't seem enough and no matter how many excuses you naïvely say to yourself, you know it couldn't change the fact that it's her and him - it has always been her and him.

You're too tired and just wanted to sleep, hopefully get a clearer view out of all of this when you wake up.

_____

[ddaenggtan]

hearts on fire | jhs

Hoseok has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and he’s beyond excited to see you married and glowing.

He just really wishes that he was the groom.

pairing | jhs x reader, knj x reader

word count | 6.5k | cross posted to ao3

genre | angst, light fluff

warnings | angst, mentions of blood, mentions of vomit, lots of choking, lots of angst, this is open ended so like.......potential (?) mcd??, like this is very very very open ended yall there is no happy ending and there is zero satisfaction at the end, like it’s truly just here to hurt you

a/n | part of Outro: Tear, The Angst Now Told, and you should really read all of those fics bc they hurt so good but they’re sO WORTH IT, and i’m shouting out to @personawife​ not only for betaing this, but also for putting the Outro Tear Angst Collab together, because it’s been so fun!!!!! and yet so painful!!!! in so many good ways!!!!!!! this was honestly really fun to write, mostly because it’s rare that i write angst - unhappy ending angst, at that - so it was nice to stretch my creative muscles. 

also go stream ego bc its wonderful and i love it

It starts, as most things do, with a kiss. 

It was innocent enough - just a soft peck on his cheek and a sunflower in his hand while he cried about another student kicking him in the shin. To this day he can’t be sure what it was that did it for him. Maybe it was the way the sunlight lit up the barrettes in your hair and made them glint like stars. Maybe it was the way you hadn’t hesitated to smooch him on the cheek and give him the flower you’d picked out of a vase just to cheer him up. Maybe it was the fact that it had worked when nothing else had. Maybe it was none of that, instead something bigger altogether and more complicated than he could ever understand. 

Or maybe it was all of it. A simple act that led to a simple reaction - him taking your hand and making you smile with some face he made - that led to this moment. 

Either way, Hoseok decides as he watches you walk down the aisle in the off-white dress with the golden sash that perfectly matches the sunflowers in your hands, he doesn’t care. Because it all led to this moment. 

[then]

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late!” You call over your shoulder. Hoseok laughs, wrapping his hand around your wrist to slow you down from your sprint. 

“We are not going to be late,” He tells you firmly. Your lips form a pout that he wishes he could kiss away, but he resists the urge. Instead, he grins and pulls you into a warm hug. “It’s not like they’re going to start our graduation without us, Starshine. It would be a little conspicuous, don’t you think?”

“Ooh, conspicuous, big word! All that studying paid off, I see.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes; he doesn’t mention that he’s been studying his ass off ever since you started crushing on one of the bookworms in the school. He refuses to acknowledge to himself that he did it in the futile hope that it would make you notice him. 

“Hey, it was worth it! Got me into that fancy university, didn’t it?” He wags his brows and lets go of you, and he does his best not to let his arms linger around your waist for longer than they need to be there. 

“Yeah, that fancy university that’s a million miles away from here,” You complain. His smile falters a little, and he covers it with a dramatic gasp. 

“What’s this? Is my little starshine going to miss me?” He doesn’t tell you about the packet laying on his desk at home, about the scholarships he’s scoured the internet to find, about the decision he has yet to make, despite the looming deadline. He doesn’t mention the sunflower pressed between the pages of a book that sits beside his bed, so he can stare at it each night as he wonders whether it’s stupid to take the harder road just for love.

“You know I will, Hobi,” You tell him. You curl into his side, lacing your fingers with his. “You’re my best friend in the whole world. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. Who’s going to make me study when I don’t want to? Or convince me that getting pancakes at two in the morning is a proper breakfast?”

Hoseok shakes his head. He knows exactly what will happen when you head off to school in a few months. You’ll meet so many new people, make boatloads of friends, create new memories and new jokes and new references, and he’ll be standing off to the side, waiting to hear about all of it. 

He can’t wait to watch you flourish.

“Who’s going to help you stop stressing out about your choreography, or your routines?” You ask. Your voice dips into a whisper, and it’s the most scared he’s ever heard you. “Who’s going to be there when I need someone?” 

He knows what you mean; he knows all about the anxiety that wracks your body every so often, the way your brain spirals and panics and can’t seem to bring itself down out of red alert. He remembers - in vivid detail - all the nights he’s climbed through your window to help you breathe in that rhythm your school counselor taught you, or just talked at you through the phone about some new song or dancer he found until he eventually heard your soft laugh.

He remembers the nights you called and called and called and eventually just sought him out, not even bothering to knock as you barged into his room because his parents adore you and don’t care to let you in whenever. You’re like a second daughter to them, something his sister gives him no end of grief about. He’ll always remember the way your hands felt against his skin as you tugged him out of his room and into the kitchen to make some kind of monstrosity, just throwing anything and everything into a blender or skillet, only to wind up going out to the corner store to get noodles anyway. 

“I’ll be here,” He tells you. His voice is as soft and firm as his fingers as he brings your chin up to face him. He wants you to look at him, wants you to maybe see after all these years just how easy it would be for him to move the earth if you asked him to. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Your eyes search for something in his, and he wonders if you’ll finally realize. If he’s finally told you about every single pang of love that he’s ever felt without even needing words. 

You smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and playfully shove at his shoulder. “Not when you’re off at your fancy university a million miles away from mine.”

He covers the heartbreak with a deep sigh and slings his arm around your shoulders as you head into the building where your graduation is being held. He wonders what you’ll think of the sunflowers sitting on your chair, waiting for you to find them. 

Something tickles his throat, a hint of a cough not ready to be cleared, and he swallows it back. 

“About that…”

[then]

Asthma is what he tells you, months and months later while you both sit in your dorm room, curled under blankets. 

You’re preparing for your philosophy paper, pages and sheets and everything else strewn about your bed while he sits at your desk. The lamp is focused and bright as it shines on the metal and stone in his hands, glinting as he twists the wire this way and that. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying for your dance eval?” You ask him. He shoots you that half-smile, a quick glance so that he can finish wrapping the quartz in his palm. He hasn’t told you that he switched majors, that he’s now ‘undecided’ simply because he can’t keep up with the others anymore.

“Aren’t you supposed to telling me who made it their mission to disprove Kant’s entire career?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to,” You pout. He smiles, satisfied, at the stone in his hand; it’s wrapped in wire shaped to look like a tree. He never thought he’d be the jewelry-making kind, but thanks to a randomly-selected elective, he’s discovered he’s got a knack for it. 

Besides, he enjoys seeing the collection on your windowsill grow with each new thing he can make you. 

He extends the quartz to you -  a polished golden one that complements the tarnished brass he’d used to wrap it, the same colors as the flowers you love so much - and the way you light up as you take it makes his heart clench painfully. 

Something tickles his throat, too familiar now, and he does what he can to swallow it down, but this one is stubborn. It forces its way up his windpipe, giving him no choice but to try to cough it up. 

You watch, worried, as he rushes to the sink in your room, bending as far over it as possible so that you won’t see as much. 

It’s small, when it falls. Small and unassuming and spit-slick, he can almost believe it just fell out of the vase of them nearby, and he hopes that’s what you’ll believe as well. 

“Hobi?” 

He hates how small your voice is, how worried you sound as you listen to the ragged pants of his breathing. So he wipes his mouth, checks in the mirror to make sure there’s no blood, and turns back to you with a wry smile. 

“I’m fine,” He says softly. His voice is still hoarse, and you don’t look convinced, but he continues before you can argue. “Just asthma.”

“Asthma? You don’t have asthma, Hoseok-”

“I do,” He says quickly. “Developed recently. Strained myself too hard, weakened my lungs, or something. I don’t remember what the doctor said exactly.”

“But...your dance, how can you-” You cut yourself off with a sharp breath, and he can’t bear to see the heartbreak in your eyes as the realization hits, so he stares down at the scuff in his sneakers instead. “That’s why you aren’t practicing right now. You had to drop out of the dance program?”

You sound like you’re on the verge of tears, so he plasters a smile on his face that’s more convincing than anything else he’s ever done. 

“It’s fine, Starshine. Not all dreams come true. Besides, there’s other things I can do.” 

“But your scholarship, Hobi, I-”

“Already figured out,” He says quickly. It isn’t, not nearly, because he can’t just call his parents to say ‘hey I lost my scholarship because I’m hopelessly in love but don’t have the guts to say anything about it’ and he hasn’t had time to go visit them, either. The corners of your mouth are turned down, and your lips are pressed together, and it’s obvious you’re upset, and it hurts more than the roots tangling in his lungs. 

He crosses the room and slides some of your papers to the side so that he can sit across from you. You’re still holding the quartz in your palm, fingers wrapped gently around it like you’re afraid it’ll break if you squeeze too tight, so he wraps his own hands around that one of yours. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You ask him. Your voice is small and hurt, and he hates that he made it that way, but he knows it’s better than what would come if he told you the truth. 

“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” He replies quietly. “You’ve got exams and studying and papers to worry about. I don’t need to add to that. Besides, you’d just try to help somehow, and you do that enough as it is.”

“How could I possibly be helping you with this, Hoseok?” The look you give him is familiar and humorless and fond and it makes his throat tickle so he looks away. Stares down at the feather-soft blanket in your lap instead. 

“Just by being here,” He tells you. “Distracting me from it. It’s not important, that’s all. I can do other things.”

“Like what? Dancing has always been your dream, and now-”

“Like,” Hoseok interrupts, sliding the quartz from your hand and placing it with the other things he’s made you on the windowsill, “Making things, like this. For you. For everyone.”

You’re quiet for a minute. Your eyes linger on the collection of stones he’s decorated for you, that he’s worked on so carefully to make them as beautiful as you deserve, and he wonders if you can tell. 

If you can see it in every careful twist of wire, in the way his hands are always so gentle against your own, in the way he can’t bear to look at you for longer than a few moments but can’t bear to be away from you in the same way. 

“Well,” You eventually say, blinking back what might be tears. “I suppose we’ll just have to find you a new dream, then, won’t we?”

Your smile is weak and watery and doesn’t reach your eyes, but it’s still a smile. So he returns it, and locks his pinky with yours, and vows to himself to make sure you never cry for him again. 

[then]

"What is that?"

Hoseok looks up from the book he's got propped against the table. He hasn't been paying much attention to the conversation, too engrossed in the metalworking book his glassblowing professor gave him while you studied for an upcoming test, so your words surprise him.

"What's what?" He asks, looking around the cafeteria as if he can magically spot whatever it is you're talking about.

" That ," you repeat, stabbing towards him with your pencil. It's reflex that brings his hand up to his chest, and it's realization that has him clutching the pendant tightly, praying you hadn't really seen it.

"Nothing," he says quickly, tucking it back under his shirt where it's supposed to be. "Just a practice thing."

"Why won't you show me?" You pout. "You always show me your practice work."

"Yeah, because you always take it," He quips back with a laugh. You don't even try to argue, because you both know it's true. The collection on your windowsill has grown immeasurably over the last two years, and it makes Hoseok's heart stutter every time he lets himself consider why you keep all of them. Especially when some are so terrible.

"Seriously, Hobi, can I see?"

He starts to say no, because if there's one piece he's ever made that could tell you about his feelings, it's this. He should say no, should insist this once that you can't see it, but before he can, his hands are pulling the chain over his head and setting the entire thing gently in your palm.

He watches your mouth fall open and your eyes grow wide and he wonders.

He wonders what you see among the curl of metal; if the fact that he would do anything for you is obvious in the way it twists and turns on itself, looping around and around. He wonders if you can see, hidden between letters, how just being near you gets him through every day and makes it all worth it. He wonders if you'll be able to tell, between the pressed yellow petals, just how his chest aches; if you've put the pieces together, after so long, now that you're holding his heart so openly in your palm.

"'Remedy,'" You read, and Hoseok's heart jumps into his throat, even when he knows you don't know about it. "And some tulip petals? It's so gorgeous, Hobi, but what does it mean?"

"They're sunflowers," He corrects, almost scandalized that you could confuse the two. The petals are shortened, of course, cut so that they'll fit into the pendant without obstructing the text in the back, but still. "And it doesn't mean anything. Just something I wrote once in high school."

Your eyes light up. "You mean that poem you never let me read?"

"It was a song, actually," He mutters, but your attention is back on the necklace, looking for any hints about the secrets he keeps. Something soft tickles the back of his throat when you glance up at him and smile, the light glinting just right along the stones and casting golden beams along your features.

You look more beautiful than he's ever seen, and his chest aches with more than just the flowers taking root there.

"This is really gorgeous, Hobi," You tell him as you watch the way the light reflects through the amber beads along the edge.

"Yeah," He whispers as he watches you, drinking in the way your eyes widen in awe and the soft smile on your lips. "It is, isn't it?"

He wishes that moment could last forever, that he could tuck it away into a pocket and pull it out whenever he needs it, but he can feel the flower starting to work its way up his throat and he doesn't know how to hide that from you.

The coughs start right as someone calls out your name and his, and he tucks his chin into his elbow in an effort to hide it. He doesn't bother to look yet, just waves a hand as someone sits beside you, and by the time he's got the handful of petals tucked safely away in his pocket, you're deep in conversation with Namjoon about one of the classes the two of you are taking.

[now]

Hoseok decides, looking at you now, that you are happier than ever. 

You've said your vows and you've cried several happy tears and you've kissed more times than he can count, but you're still radiant. It's the glow of contentment, the promise of more to come, all coalescing to shine like stars in your eyes. 

"May I, Starshine?" He asks, extending a hand and pulling you away from your current dance partner. Yoongi doesn't look too upset about it, just smiles knowingly at you both as your hand folds into Hoseok's. 

You move with him as if it's second nature, and Hoseok supposes that it is , at this point. As many times as he held you this way while teaching you the steps, as often as he led you through them before today, you should be able to move out of sheer muscle memory. 

"Have I told you yet that you're sparkling, Starshine?" He asks, smiling along with you when you laugh. 

"I think that you're confusing me and the ring again, Hobi." 

On cue, he looks down at it. He spent so long on it, years of dreaming of what it may look like and months of trial and error and practice runs before he got it right. It was worth it, though; the ring does sparkle, takes the glow of your skin and the joy in your smile and amplifies it. 

Crafted to look like a sunflower itself, the ring is easily the most expensive thing he's ever made. Each petal sparkles with the same yellow quartz of that stone he gave you so long ago, and set into the middle is one large chocolate diamond that he spent entirely too much money on because it was already cut exactly the way he needed it. He'll never forget the way you cried when you saw it the first time. 

Hoseok's eyes meet yours, and he frowns at the tears he sees there. 

"Hey, none of that, Starshine. It's a happy day, remember?" He stops moving in the middle of the dance floor, hands moving to wipe your tears before they can fall. 

"I just...I'm so happy Hobi." He grins at your words, resisting the urge to poke fun, because of course you're happy. You just got married. 

You look up at him again, eyes still watery and he pulls you into a tight hug. 

"I love you so much, Hobi," you mutter against his chest. His heart flutters in his chest as he resists the urge to press his lips to yours right where you stand. 

"Yeah," He whispers. "Yeah, I love you too, Starshine." 

Someone taps him on the shoulder and he releases you, relinquishing his grasp on you so you can dance with Namjoon. The pendant around your neck sits beautifully, shadowed on either side by the white of the cloth, and he thinks for just a moment, that maybe he made that pendant for you, after all. 

He's worn it for years, of course, but the smile on your face when he slid it around your neck was worth it. It was worth being asked if you could have it, not entirely joking, and it was worth every single time you would fiddle with it during movie marathons, and it was worth every single night he held it in his clutched palm as he sat over the sink and coughed up the yellow blooms that you've strung up all over the reception hall. 

very day that you bugged him about it, how you asked every day without fail if you could have it. He knew you were kidding - mostly - but the light in your eyes when he finally gave it to you before the wedding today is something he’ll remember for the rest of his life, no matter what the future holds for him. 

It ends, as most things do, with a conversation. 

It was innocent enough - just a phone ringing in its place on the worktable and his hands covered in clay while he struggled to hit the screen with his elbow. To this day he can’t be sure what it was that he missed, exactly. Maybe it was the way that you’d been calling him less and less in the middle of the night. Maybe it was the way you hadn’t noticed that he’d been spending too much time in the studio, pouring his soul into every shape he crafts and wire he twists while he chokes down petals. Maybe it was the classes the two of you shared and the projects you worked on together, that he assumed was friendly and not anything more. Maybe it was all of that, everything working in tandem in a way that he could never understand.

Or maybe it was none of it. Simple acts that led to simple reactions - being too busy for each other, not talking as often, coughing up sunflower petals - that all led to that moment. 

Either way, Hoseok decides as he watches the heart-shaped vase spin aimlessly on its wheel while you cry tears of joy through the phone because he finally - finally - asked you out, he can’t care.

[then]

Asthma? is what Jimin asks him, years later when they’re both locked in Hoseok’s newly renovated store, basically a hole in the wall that he saved and saved for with his online sales. Hoseok is curled over the workbench in the back, doing everything he can to catch the petals before Jimin can see them. 

When they eventually subside, long enough for him to gulp down some water and shove the red-tinted petals off to the side in a pile that’s been steadily growing for weeks now, Hoseok shoots Jimin a self-deprecating smile. 

He doesn’t even get a chance to lie to him. 

“How long?” Jimin asks him. There’s no softness to his tone; it’s all hard edges and naked truths, and for once, the exhaustion overtakes Hoseok. He’s so sick of lying. He’s so sick of carrying an inhaler he doesn’t need, of shoving sunflower petals into every nook and cranny he can find so that no one sees them, and he just wants someone to know. 

“Forever,” Hoseok answers simply. “As long as I can remember.”

“And you never said anything? Ever?”

Hoseok sighs, throat scratchy and raw, and he stares down at the ring he’s been fiddling with. “Would you?” He eventually says. 

When he looks at Jimin, the other man has a petal of his own in between two fingers and rubs it absently, distractedly, like it’s habit. When he looks up, Hoseok understands, and an understanding passes between them. 

Jimin goes back to the laptop perched in front of him while Hoseok continues to work on other orders, things less important than the ring burning a hole in his mind’s eye, begging to be made. 

He isn’t ready, he tells himself. He isn’t skilled enough yet. Maybe one day. 

“I’m getting the surgery,” Jimin says after a few hours of silence. Hoseok fumbles with the pliers in his hands, twists the wire the wrong way, and it all clatters to the tabletop. He doesn’t bother to catch it, either; he’s too busy staring at his best friend in shock. 

“Seriously?” He breathes. Jimin nods, and the air rushes out of Hoseok in the span of a heartbeat. 

Everyone knows about the surgery, just like everyone knows about hanahaki disease. It took years to develop and it’s the only known treatment, but there are always side effect. Always. Sometimes they’re minor, just losing your feelings of love for the person you have feelings for, or like the guy that just became allergic to the peonies that he had removed. 

But then there are the others. 

The people who lose the capacity to love altogether. The ones who never find anyone else, who never learn how to love another person, not like they loved the one that caused the flowers. Or the ones who just lose their emotions completely, and become essentially lifeless. Unable to feel love at all, or sadness, or grief, or joy, or excitement, or remorse, or anything. They just exist. 

“But...the side effects-”

“Aren’t guaranteed,” Jimin interrupts. “Plenty of people get the procedure every day and walk away fine.”

“Yeah and some of them turn into lifeless machines!” Hoseok counters. Jimin’s expression hasn’t changed. He looks steadfast, decided, and he’s barely looking away from whatever work he’s doing on the laptop, and it infuriates Hoseok. “You’re gonna sign away any hope that you have, any chance that you have, because it...because it hurts?”

“No,” Jimin says as he closes the laptop and slides it to the side. “Because I’m tired, Hobi. I’m so tired, all the time. I’m tired of keeping it a secret, and I’m tired of puking my guts every time I think about-” Jimin cuts himself off and closes his eyes, tight, as he swallows. 

When he opens them, Hoseok can see every emotion he’s ever had in Jimin’s eyes, and it makes his heart ache. 

“Aren’t you tired, Hobi?” 

Jimin’s voice is small, and weak, but it lingers in the air between them. It curls past Hoseok’s throat and then down to wrap around his chest, growing tighter and tighter with every breath. Neither of them break eye contact, and Hoseok wonders what Jimin sees in his face. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok eventually says. With that, the spell is broken, and he can breathe again, and he drags his eyes away from Jimin to look at the piece he’d been working on instead. “But I can’t just...stop, y’know? I’ve loved her for basically my entire life. I can't...I don’t even know who I am without that.”

Jimin’s quiet for a long moment, and Hoseok thinks maybe he’s not going to say anything. Maybe he got through to Jimin, maybe he won’t get that surgery. 

“Don’t you think that you should find out?”

[now]

Hoseok watches from across the room as Jimin spins you in a circle, both of you laughing brightly. 

Jimin’s suit matches your dress wonderfully; Hoseok doesn’t think anyone else could quite pull off the pattern on it quite like Jimin does in such an effortless way. He looks happier than Hoseok has ever seen him, more content, more at home in his own skin. 

He isn’t coughing, and he isn’t struggling, and everything worked out well for him. No more flowers in his lungs, no more lies to his friends, no more unrequited love left heavy in his heart. Just happiness and laughter and joy. Hoseok wonders if he’d be the same. 

His thumb rubs absently across the business card in his pocket. It’s been there since Jimin handed it to him, what feels like forever ago now. It’s worn, and faded, and torn, and old, but the doctor is still practicing, just got recognized by the World Health Organization for his work. There’s an appointment reminder dinging in Hoseok’s phone, and a business card in his pocket, and he still doesn’t know if he’s even going to go, because you look so beautiful. 

You’re surrounded by your flowers, and you’re glowing like the North Star, and he can’t keep his eyes off of you. 

“She’s gorgeous, right?”

Hoseok turns and smiles at Namjoon. The man looks just as good, decked out in the best suit money can buy, with crinkles in the corner of his eyes and a dimple in his cheek as he grins.

“Yeah, she is,” He says. Emotions clog in his throat when he looks back at you only to find you looking his way. There’s love in your eyes and a soft, private smile on your lips, and it makes his chest tighten. “She looks really happy.”

“She does,” Namjoon agrees. 

Across the room, you wiggle a finger, and the ring glints in the light. Hoseok stifles a laugh, and shakes his head. 

“I can’t dance anymore, so this is all on you, big guy,” He tells Namjoon. The other man looks more than happy to take him up on the offer, grinning sheepishly as he sets his drink down to make his way to you. 

You take Namjoon’s hand and pull him close as the music transitions into a slow dance. Namjoon presses his forehead against yours, and both your eyes close, and suddenly, Hoseok feels like he shouldn’t be watching. This feels private, intimate, in a way that he’s never been privy to.

His throat clenches and he can feel it in his throat. 

He nearly drops his drink, but he gets to a table just in time to put the cup down with shaky hands. He knew, he knew what would happen. He clenches his jaw and heads through the side door of the event space, barely chancing a glance behind him. You don’t seem to have noticed, thankfully, but Hoseok makes eye contact with Jimin. The younger boy taps his wrist, and Hoseok just heads outside. 

He doesn’t need Jimin to remind him that time is up. 

[then]

“You need what?”

Namjoon’s smile turns shy at Hoseok’s tone. Of all the things that Hoseok could have anticipated Namjoon would ask him for, of all the potential items that he’s been commissioned by the taller man, this was never something he expected.

Though maybe he should have.

“-you know her better than anyone, y’know, and no one can craft like you, Hobi-”

The nickname sounds wrong, suddenly; like poison on Namjoon’s lips, but Hoseok just plasters on his smile again, the one he saves for truly difficult customers who try his patience, and he prays Namjoon doesn’t recognize it. 

“No, I get it, yeah.”

“I just...it needs to be perfect. And you’re the only one that I trust to make it perfect.” Hoseok’s heart twinges in his chest, and he can feel the roots moving in his lungs. “I’ll pay you whatever you want, too, cost isn’t a factor, it just needs to be-”

“Perfect,” Hoseok finishes. Namjoon smiles again, sheepish, and nods. “It’s fine, I’ll make it. No charge.”

“Hobi, I can’t ask you to do that, not for free-”

“You didn’t,” Hoseok insists. “I’m offering. Consider it a...gift.” Namjoon’s smile is blinding, and he really must trust Hoseok with this, because he’s heading out just a few minutes after, already on the phone with you because the two of you are meeting for lunch. 

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. It makes sense. It’s been years. Isn’t that the usual time people start to expect this kind of thing? 

A voice in the back of his head, bitter and cruel, tells him that he should have charged Namjoon. Should have made him pay an exorbitant amount, enough to keep the shop running through the months of the slow season, enough to help heal the wound in Hoseok’s heart, but he brushes it off. It wouldn’t have felt right, charging for this. 

Not when he’s had the design sitting in his head since he wrapped that first stone with wire, since he first learned how to make this jewelry. Not when he’s had pages upon pages of designs drawn out for years, since before he even owned his own shop. 

That was never his to design, though, he reminds himself as he heads into the workshop. He had no right to that design. 

Just like he has no right to you. 

[then]

Later, weeks and weeks later, In the darkness of his apartment, Hoseok cries. 

Hoseok cries for all the things he’s never said, all the things he’ll never do, all of the things that you don’t know. He cries for the late nights together and the impromptu adventures and the panicked phone calls. He’s been so blind, he’s refused to see it, he knows. It’s all been waning, all put on the backburner in favor of him. 

He’s the one you call when air can’t make it to your lungs. He’s the one you pull from work in the dead of night to make him sleep. He’s the one that gets to wraps his arms around you while you watch the newest episode of whatever show you’re obsessed with lately. It’s all him, and it will never be Hoseok, no matter how hard he wishes, because he’s too late. 

He spent so long obsessed with maybe. Maybe you’ll love him back, maybe it’ll ruin the friendship, maybe you’ll realize. For years and years, he said maybe, and now it’s too late, because you’re going to be saying yes to another man’s question, and Hoseok will be left in the darkness, no longer able to look at the stars in your eyes because you’ll be looking at him. 

For the first time in his life, Hoseok hates. He hates you for not realizing that he loves you; he hates Namjoon for taking the chance and asking you out; he hates the flowers growing in his chest that are just further proof that he’s alone in his feelings. Mostly, though…

Mostly, Hoseok hates himself, he realizes as he crumples against the wall of his living room. He hates himself for not taking the risk that Namjoon did, for not putting it all out there so that you could give him whatever kind of closure would come. 

And it’s there, sitting on his floor, surrounded by the remains of too many projects that he spent too long on that you’ll now never see, that he first begins to consider it. Everyone knows about the surgery, everyone knows that you can get the flowers removed, but that it comes with a cost. He stares, past his tears, past the colorful crystal remnants at his feet, and he considers. 

There’s already a numbness spreading through his body; it follows the same path as the roots of the flowers in his lungs, it runs parallel to the petals and seeds, and it only serves to highlight the painful ache that his feelings have caused. He’s already becoming numb to it, so why not? He may lose the ability to love forever, yes, but he can still be your friend. He can still watch you marry another man, this time without the itch in his throat and the flowers in his bile. So why shouldn’t he?

His phone rings, and he already knows it’s you. Not by the specialized ringtone - the only custom one in his entire contact list - and not by the blinking light that’s sure to wake him up in the middle of the night. No, he knows it’s you, because he knows that there’s no way Namjoon could have resisted the temptation to ask you tonight. He’s pictured what you’d look like a hundred thousand times, knows exactly how bright your smile would be as you said yes, how soft the tears would feel as he wiped them away, he knows. 

And now you’re calling him, to tell him the great news, or maybe scold him for not giving you a heads up about it in the first place since he’s the one that made the ring. Either way, you’re on the other end of that ringing, ready to tell him about the happiest night of your life, and Hoseok can’t…

He can’t resist it. It’s autopilot as he drags himself to where his phone is still ringing, and it’s only after a deep and shaky breath that he answers it. 

You don’t even give him time to speak for you’re launching into your squeals and happy giggles and how Namjoon did it, and Hoseok feels a reluctant smile cross his features. It only grows when you start to gush about the ring, complimenting his skill, and he can feel a bud trying to make its way up his throat, so he mutes his phone. He doesn’t want you to hear as he rushes to the kitchen sink, as he chokes and coughs and gags and eventually spits out a nearly whole sunflower. 

It’s not a big one, maybe an inch or so in diameter, and not fully bloomed, but it’s there, and Hoseok knows it’s more of a death sentence than anything. 

“Hobi? Are you there?” 

He wipes his mouth and clears his throat and leaves the flower in the sink with its red-stained petals so that he can unmute his phone. 

“Yeah, Starshine, I’m here.”

[now]

In the alley beside your wedding, Hoseok coughs. He coughs and he gags and he chokes, until the ground is littered with flower petals that aren’t from your bouquets, and blood drops and tears. He chokes until he can’t breathe anymore, until he has to reach in and pull the flower from his throat before he really does die, and it makes him shudder when he sees that it’s nearly fully formed, almost completely bloomed and everything.

He doesn’t think he’ll make it through the next one.

He stands up, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of the red suit he chose for this exact reason, and he looks through the window, to the space where you should be dancing with Namjoon. 

You aren’t, though. You’re watching him, brows drawn together, confused, and you’re saying something that he can’t quite make out through the glass. 

Fear strikes his heart. Fear that you saw everything, that you know everything, but directly after it comes relief, because he knows now. He knows what he needs to do, because he doesn’t think he can bear to have you watch him die, but he doesn’t think he can bear not to love you anymore, either; no matter what, he’s lost you, and that knowledge solidifies his decision. He holds a hand over his chest, and you mirror him, your fingers closing around the pendant he made so, so long ago.

You turn, looking for someone - Namjoon, maybe, or Jimin, to ask what’s wrong with him, and he takes the opportunity. He heads out of the alley, as fast as his legs can carry him, because he knows. 

When you finally make it into the alley, you don’t understand. Your best friend, your best man, is nowhere to be found. In his wake are flower petals, drawn out by the wind. 

One catches your eye, and you pick it up. It’s soft against your fingertips, and you frown when you see the red on it. 

You don’t ever see Hoseok again.

[smooshjames]

forget you not (iv)

you knock on my door and tell me you don’t wanna fight (or: inside jokes and invitations)

word count: 4.5k

a/n: part four of forget you not! this is the second to last part as it stands right now, but i am toying with the idea of writing an epilogue. i haven’t made up my mind on that front quite yet, it’ll probably depend on if there’s any demand for an epilogue once the parts i’ve got written are all finished up. anyway, the usual disclaimers: i didn’t write any of the songs mentioned, they all belong to little mix, this chapter’s songs are here and here (no new ones this time, but i figure i’ll link them anyway for the sake of easy access). here is a link to my ko-fi, which, as usual, is never an obligation. thank you for taking the time to read this, and i hope you enjoy!

warnings: more angst (surprising, right?), an author who is very bad at sketch comedy trying to write characters who are very good at sketch comedy

previous parts: one, two, three

With the red dot on the cameras blinking, you knew it was even more important now that you kept up that positive facade. You did your best to think about good things, hoping your smile wouldn’t look too forced.

To your right, Shayne launched into an energetic intro where he explained the rules of the game and introduced you guys as guests. Once he had given his little speech, he turned to you, though his eyes were fixed on the partition over your shoulder. Still, his smile didn’t waver for even a second. “So, are you guys ready to play?”

You nodded enthusiastically and laughed in easy agreement as you were elected to be the first person in the stool. You filled your mouth with water and flashed a thumbs-up, and out came Alexis. She used an inside joke, which was probably cheating, but it made you spit your water out anyway.

The game went on like this for a while, until finally, the only person yet to try to make you laugh was Shayne. You braced yourself as he asked if you were ready, humming an affirmative and doing your best to keep your breathing even.

He came out holding a red telephone, which he set on top of the bongos.

“Watch this,” he said, flashing you a shit-eating grin. For a second, you felt yourself tilting forward into that grin, into those eyes. Your heart jackhammered in your chest. It was the first genuine smile he’d given you all day, and God it was beautiful. “Hi, Dominos? You’re my favorite pizza place.”

You knitted your eyebrows in confusion.

“Watch this though,” he said. He mashed his finger against the phone buttons and lifted it again. “Hi, Pizza Hut? You’re my favorite pizza place.”

And then he nodded at you a little, smiling expectantly. When you didn’t laugh, he held up one finger. “Watch this though.”

With his free hand, he made a sort of waving motion in the direction of the partition, and out came Damien holding an identical red phone. He handed it to you and then went back to where all the props were. Shayne dialed his phone and made a little ringing sound effect for emphasis. You picked up your phone.

“Hi, Y/N?” he asked. You hummed something vaguely resembling “hello” into the receiver, figuring you might as well play along with the bit. In the same voice, with that same shit-eating grin, he said, “you’re my favorite singer.”

You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the strange vocal inflection or the mirth in his eyes as he said it, but sure enough, you sprayed water all over the soundstage. Shayne laughed gleefully as you did so, and the sound of it made you forget to breathe for just a second; you hadn’t heard that laugh in years. It made your chest ache to hear it again. In a sort of daze, you handed him your prop and he took it backstage.

Everyone came back out and you had to choose who made you laugh the hardest. You picked Damien, who had pranced out in an insanely tangled red wig with a stuffed flamingo in one hand, partially because he had made you laugh really hard and partially because you were trying to procrastinate Shayne's turn as much as possible.

Damien’s round passed quickly, and you managed to make him laugh after a few seconds. He chose Piper to go next, so she took her place on the stool. You went backstage with everyone else and started sifting through props to think of a bit.

And then Shayne fully took his shirt off.

You froze halfway through picking up a cowboy hat. You were pretty sure that anyone listening closely enough could’ve heard the gears in your brain grinding to a halt.

You wondered, if you started running now, how far into the ocean you could get before anyone noticed you were gone.

Carly nudged you with her elbow and asked you to help her with a bit, forcing you to turn away from Shayne, which was probably for the best. You took the opportunity to remind yourself that not only did he have a new girlfriend, but that the two of you didn’t work. You never had and you never would.

And before you knew it, Piper’s round was over, and Shayne was up next. You felt a bolt of panic. You knew you could make him laugh, but you weren’t sure how to go about doing it and you were rapidly running out of time to figure it out. Finally, you decided against every bit of logic you had. You decided to just go with an inside joke.

He probably wouldn’t remember it, anyway. It didn’t really matter. If you didn’t make him laugh it wasn’t the end of the world. At the end of that day, you were just here to promote the band. 

At least, this is what you told yourself as you stood behind the partition waiting for your turn. But your hands were trembling anyway.

Your turn came up. Alexis gave you a little high five on your way out. You walked up to Shayne’s right side and leaned in close to him, careful not to touch him. You looked at him through your eyelashes and shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Hey,” you said, voice low and sultry. Shayne’s brows knitted in confusion, and you feared for a moment that he had forgotten. You were probably only half-audible to the mics, but you didn’t care. You were focused single-mindedly on making Shayne laugh. “I was just wondering… do you like tacos?” You were careful to drag out the vowels on the word ‘tacos.’ You heard Damien start giggling behind the partition.

At least he remembered.

And then Shayne’s eyes widened and he surged forward as he tried to keep the water in. Your heart skipped a beat, though you couldn’t quite pin down why.

“Do you like tacos, Shayne? Do you?” you asked, leaning a little closer. You felt more confident now that you knew he remembered the joke. “Tell me how much you like tacos, Shayne.”

That did the trick. He sprayed water everywhere, shrieking with laughter as he did so.

Once the water was cleaned up, everyone else came back out from behind the partition and Shayne chose Alexis to go next.

After Alexis, it was Carly’s turn, and then you were all done. You had even finished a little bit ahead of schedule.

Ian came over once the cameras were cut, smiling brightly. “That was really good, you guys! Thanks so much for coming in today.”

“Thanks for having us!” Alexis said. “It was a ton of fun.”

You nodded in agreement but you were only half-listening. Shayne had somehow ended up right next to you during the outro of the video, and he hadn't made an effort to move away after the cameras stopped rolling. He was close to you, maybe a little closer than necessary, and that fact was all you could focus on.

As you were listening to Ian talk about when the video would be released, you felt Shayne wrap his hand around your forearm, squeezing lightly to get your attention. That one simple touch set your entire right side on fire. You felt like he’d lit off a fireworks display under your skin. You turned to face him, and you couldn’t help noticing that he looked more than a little bit like a kicked puppy.

“Can we talk?” he asked. His voice was soft, a stark contrast to how loud he’d been just minutes before as you were filming the video outro. “Just for a few minutes, please?”

At these questions, a knot of mixed emotion -- fear, anger, a little misguided hope -- gathered in a knot at the base of your spine and squeezed so hard you went lightheaded with it.

You glanced around for Michelle, who was watching you like a hawk. You tilted your head toward Shayne and shrugged. She nodded.

“Okay,” you replied. In all honesty, you weren’t sure why you said yes. You didn’t know what he could possibly have to say to you. Your mind raced with all the worst-case scenarios; that he would rub his new girlfriend in your face, that he would say something mean or insulting, that he would tear down what little you had managed to build yourself up. You wrestled those ideas into submission, though. Shayne had made his mistakes, but he had never been intentionally cruel.

He led you back through the office until he found an empty conference room. You closed the door behind you as you entered.

“What’s up?” you asked. You cringed as it was coming out of your mouth. Really? What’s up?

Now that you were alone, some of his forced Funny Man bravado seemed to crumble away. His shoulders slumped and the shine went out of his eyes, and the look he gave you was sad, exhausted.

You felt like the earth was rotating the wrong way, like God had vacuum sealed the room shut, like Saturn was crashing into Jupiter and imploding on impact.

“I, um…” he mumbled. He shoved his hands into his pockets and chuckled nervously. For a moment, you were reminded of the first time he’d asked you out. You’d both been so young then, and he had been all nerves and goofy smiles. You knew even from that first conversation that you were a goner. “I should’ve planned out what I was gonna say, huh? I had all weekend to think about it.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you said. “This weekend has been… a series of really fucking weird, awful coincidences. You don’t have to, like, apologize. We’ll just chalk it up to being a series of unfortunate events.”

His brow furrowed and his head tilted slightly, which really intensified the whole kicked puppy vibe he had going. Your heart ached, and there was a moment where the muscles in your legs twitched, where your body tried to move itself over to him without your brain’s consent.

You stayed rooted to your place.

“What?” he asked, voice small, barely even audible over the hum of the air conditioning.

You shrugged. “It’s okay, Shayne. I’m not, like, upset that you moved on --”

Bold-faced lie number one.

“Wait,” he said, but you couldn’t hear him over the blood roaring through your ears.

“-- and Courtney seems really nice, so I’m happy that you’re happy --”

Bold-faced lie number two.

“No, just --” he tried to interrupt you again, but you kept going.

“-- and I’m sorry that we had to see each other again in this context, it’s been… really fucking weird. But that doesn’t mean you need to try to make it better, okay? Don’t worry about me.”

Bold-faced lie number three.

Before you could conjure up more ways to end the conversation and escape the room, Shayne took a halting step forward.

“Courtney and I aren’t dating,” he said. Your mouth snapped shut as your brain slammed on the brakes. “We’re just friends. I went to the concert with her because the person she was supposed to go with canceled last minute and she couldn’t find anybody else.”

Oh.

“And I’m sorry we had to see each other again in this context, too, but not because I want to patronize you by telling you that I’m sorry things didn’t work out. I mean I am sorry things didn’t work out, but not in like a My Life Is Better Now, Sorry About That kinda way --” he stopped, faltering, obviously unsure of how to put his thoughts into words.

Oh.

“I mean, if anything, you’re the one who’s better now; --” wait, what? “-- you’re successful, doing what you love, surrounded by your friends, and you’ve clearly moved on. --” wait, what? “-- But I just wanted to talk to you because… I don’t really know why, honestly. Because a part of me is still twenty-one and in love with you, I guess.”

So that was what it was like to have every organ in your body simultaneously crushed under a hydraulic press. Interesting.

You couldn’t think of anything poetic to say, so you settled for what seemed the most pressing. “You think I cried on stage singing Towers, a song I wrote about you, because I’m over you? You think I’m the one who’s moved on?”

He shrugged meekly. “I don’t know. That was just one song. You sang a hell of a lot of other songs about how you don’t need a man, about how your life is great. And those aren’t bad things! They were really good songs, but I just assumed --”

“Carly and Alexis wrote all those songs,” you said flatly. He fell silent. “I just sing them.”

There was a moment of silence that seemed to last an eternity, and then there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Shayne said, his eyes still locked on yours.

A tall brunet man with a thick beard opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Hey,” he said. “There’s a meeting in here in five minutes.” And then he looked between the two of you, and his eyes narrowed. You figured the tension in the room was so palpable, even a stranger could pick up on it. “Everything okay, Shayne?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Shayne replied. “We’ll be out of here in a minute. Sorry, Matt.”

“No problem,” the man, Matt, said. He nodded at you in acknowledgment, seeming more than a little confused at your presence. The door closed softly as he left.

“It’s probably for the best,” you said. “Michelle will have a coronary if I’m gone for too long. Places to be, people to see, insanely specific and personal questions to answer.”

He laughed a little bit, nodding, and for a moment the heavy awkwardness that had settled in the room seemed to lift just slightly. “Is your number still the same?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why?”

“I’ll text you my new address. Um, if you can, if you want to, it would probably be good for you to come over tonight to talk a little more. I can order some dinner for us. Only if you want to. I just don’t think… I don’t want to leave things this way.”

A sudden bolt of anger streaked through you, fiery hot. You clenched your jaw. He didn’t want to leave things this way? He had no qualms with leaving things this way when he’d let your entire relationship go down the drain all those years ago. And now he just got to waltz back in and invite you over for dinner and pretend he didn’t cause you the worst heartbreak you’d ever felt? After you had finally gotten yourself close to okay again, he got to come back in and ruin everything, knock you right back down to where you started? That wasn’t fucking fair.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” you said, and it wasn’t a lie. You still had one more interview after leaving the Smosh offices. You’d be completely worn out by the time that was done, especially on top of the exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster that you’d boarded against your will.

“I’ll send the address anyway,” Shayne said. “Don’t feel pressured to come. If you don’t, I completely get it. You can delete the text and block my number if you want. I swear that after this I’ll never bother you again. But just in case.”

“Okay,” you replied. You really didn’t want to argue with him. You just wanted to track down Michelle and the band and go on your way to the next interview and try to forget about everything that had happened in the last three days. “Fine.”

He nodded and pulled out his phone, and after a moment you felt your own vibrate in your back pocket. You wondered briefly if he had your number memorized, which would have been kind of weird, or if he’d just never deleted your contact information. The notion that the latter might be true made your heart skip a beat.

Once he had repocketed his phone, he looked up at you. There was a moment of lingering silence where it was clear that neither of you knew what to say.

Finally, you lifted your hand in farewell. “It’s been, um… it was good to see you again, Shayne.” Bold-faced lie number four. “Bye.”

“Bye, Y/N,” he said.

Doing your best to ignore the tightness in his voice, you walked past him out of the room and scurried off to meet up with the band. You found them talking to Courtney, Damien, and another girl that you didn’t recognize. She was about Courtney’s height, Chinese, with brown hair and eyes.

“Ready to go, Y/N?” Piper asked.

“I think so,” you said. You turned to Damien and nodded your head over your shoulder. “Got a minute for goodbye?”

He nodded and the two of you retreated away from the rest of the group, not leaving their view but definitely out of earshot. “I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you,” he said.

“It’s okay, Damien, really,” you replied. You reached out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “This weekend was wild for everybody involved. At least we got to see each other again, right? This has been really nice.”

He grinned and pulled you into another bear hug. “Yeah, it has been,” he said, and you felt it as a rumble in his chest more than you actually heard it. When you parted, he left one hand lingering on your arm and squeezed lightly before it dropped to his side. “Call sometime, okay? I’ve missed you.”

“Will do, Dames.” You glanced over your shoulder and saw Michelle looking at you expectantly. She tapped her wristwatch. You sighed. “I gotta run. I’ll see you around.”

He nodded and said a final goodbye before you turned to make your way back to the band. You noted on your way that Shayne had returned from the conference room. He was talking to Courtney and the brunette now.

You ignored the feeling of his eyes on you as you walked out of the offices and into the LA sunlight beyond.

***

Shayne came back from the conference room a few seconds after you did. He did his best not to watch you and Damien saying goodbye, did his best to push down the surge of jealousy as you hugged him. You were smiling up at him and it seemed easy, carefree. It was like you’d just seen each other yesterday. He wished he could be like that with you, even though he knew why he couldn’t. He was doomed to sad smiles and airless rooms and awkward tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

If time travel was real, he’d go back to that final night with you and kick his own ass.

Damien’s hand on his shoulder startled him out of his self-loathing. He turned to face his best friend and didn’t bother concealing the hurt on his face; Damien would see right past it even if he tried.

“You okay?” Damien asked. Shayne let out a strangled laugh. Of course he wasn’t okay.

“I feel like somebody tried to wring all the water out of my body,” he replied.

“What’s up with you today?” Courtney asked, and Shayne startled. He’d sort of forgotten she was there.

Shayne sighed. He figured he might as well tell her; she’d probably find out at some point anyway. That or she’d piece it together herself.

“Y/N and I used to be a couple, way back when,” he said. Courtney’s eyes went almost comically wide. “And it… didn’t end very well. Seeing each other again has been really fucking weird for both of us.”

“That’s why she cried when she sang Towers,” Courtney said, more to herself than to anyone in the room. She looked at Damien. “Is that why you know her? ‘Cause of her and Shayne?”

Damien shook his head. “Me and her were friends first. I introduced them.”

Courtney nodded slowly, obviously trying to process this new information. “Oh,” she said. Shayne couldn’t tell where her brain was (he rarely could). If he had to guess, he’d say she was probably combing over her every memory of the past weekend and looking for any indications of the history between you and Shayne. Sure enough, she continued after a moment: “that’s why she looked so constipated when we were at the photo op, and why you ‘needed some air’ halfway through the concert, and why you got all weird when I put my arm around your shoulders before, and why you disappeared after --” she stopped, her brows furrowing for a moment and then raising suddenly. She smirked. “Where’d you go after you finished filming, Shayne? You both came back pretty much at the same time.”

“Courtney --” Shayne said, voice scolding, trying to get her to stop whatever hellish train of thought she was getting onto.

“You’re still in love with her, huh?” Olivia said. She’d been silent for most of the conversation, but she was looking at him like she could see into his soul. Shayne froze. Was he that fucking obvious?

“Still in love with who?” Ian’s voice to his left startled him.

Courtney and Olivia stopped talking now, which Shayne was grateful for. They at least had the decency to let Shayne tell Ian on his own. Everyone looked from Ian to Shayne and back.

“Uh --” Shayne said. “I, um…”

“Is this about whatever weird shit is between you and the girl from the band?” Ian asked. Shayne threw his hands in the air, frustrated. Did the whole world know? Was he that easy to read?

“How did you…?”

“I’ve known you for almost five years, Shayne,” Ian replied. “You looked like you wanted to die during that entire shoot. There were a couple of moments it was so bad that I almost asked Courtney to come in and take your place. But the crew people said it didn’t come through on camera, so I just chalked it up to the fact that I know you so well. You also left with her right after we were done filming. Putting two and two together here doesn’t exactly take a rocket scientist.”

Shayne sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, which made it look even more insane than it usually did. “We dated years ago. The way it ended was my fault. I shouldn’t have broken up with her. I shouldn’t have let her go. She was… she is one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met. This weekend has rubbed everything I did wrong right into my face.”

“Is that it, then?” Courtney asked. “She walks out of here and you let her? After the universe, fate, whatever you wanna call it put in all the effort to bring you together again… you let her go? You repeat your biggest mistake?”

Shayne had to force down an anguished sound at that. He knew Courtney was trying to get him to chase after you, but in reality, she was probably right. You wouldn’t want to come to his apartment to talk things out. You wouldn’t want to see him after everything. You wouldn’t forgive him. And he didn’t deserve your forgiveness, anyway. You were absolutely right to ignore the invitation.

“I asked if she would come over,” he said. He was trying to be hopeful. But he’d seen the way your eyes narrowed when he invited you to his place. Your jaw had dropped and then tightened in that way it did when you were torn between anger and disbelief. “If she does, maybe we can talk things out. But it’s been years. I don’t know if she’ll… I don’t know, you guys.”

He was breathing, that much he knew, but he was sort of starting to wonder if someone had poked a hole in his trachea because he was pretty sure the air wasn’t making it to his lungs. He looked around at his friends, all staring at him like he should know the answer, like he should be able to just whip a magical solution out of his ass and call it a day, a happy ending with a neat little bow.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” he said, a little louder than necessary, because the room was suddenly way too fucking small. Before anyone could object, he walked quickly away from the group and down the hall until he found an empty soundstage. He slumped against the wall and slid down onto the ground. The events of the last three days were piling onto his shoulders like bricks. Memories of you were branded onto his brain and he couldn’t stop replaying them, a highlight reel of what he’d had and what he’d lost. You, years ago, laughing and looking at him like he was the only person in the room. You, years ago, standing in the living room, looking at him like he’d just driven a knife through your heart.

In an instant, he felt like Atlas, holding the weight of his own mistakes. Holding memories both good and bad; your first date, your first kiss, your first fight. You had said ‘I love you’ first because he wasn't brave enough, and you’d looked terrified as you did it, like you were afraid he’d laugh at you and push you away. You’d always looked half-scared, he realized; scared of rejection and pain and heartbreak. And he’d gone and thrown those fears right back in your face.

It took about three seconds for Shayne to collapse in on himself. He barely made it to the couch before his knees gave out on him. He stared up at the ceiling for a long while, desperately trying to process whatever the hell had just happened.

You were gone, and the apartment felt empty without you. It was a new type of loneliness, one he’d never experienced before. He felt a little like his chest was caving in and little like he was astral projecting, like he wasn’t quite contained within the walls of his body. He reached for his phone and sent you a barely-coherent text, apologizing and asking you to come home. And then he texted Damien and asked if he was home. He needed someone’s company.

He stared up at his ceiling while he awaited a response, considering all the things that had led him to this newest, most monumental fuck-up. Suddenly, the time he’d forgotten your birthday made him look like Boyfriend of the Year.

And then he reached into his pocket and he produced the little blue box he’d gotten just yesterday, and he opened it and looked at the ring inside. Not too flashy -- he didn’t have the money for any big diamonds, and you’d once joked that you didn’t want your engagement ring to weigh five tons. He smiled at the memory and traced his finger over the small diamond at the center of the ring.

God, what the fuck had he just done?

Shayne’s head thumped against the wall behind him, and he cried.

[spicykoreantatertots]

Love Me or Not

Pairing: Yoongi x Female Reader (briefly ft. Taehyung)

Word Count: 8.1k

Genres: NSFW, ANGST, Smut

Warnings: My theme for the collab was Break Up. This is pure angst with a hopeful (but not happy) ending! There is smut in this too. Mentions of emotional trauma, Y/N has problems okay. 

A/N: I’m SO glad I got to join this collab last minute. Who doesn’t love a good angsty story? (If you don’t, don’t read this!) Big thanks to @personawife​ for running this collab and to my amazing beta readers @jingabitch​ @lovely-literati​ and @megahwn​! This story wouldn’t be what it is without y’all! One final thanks to @bloodpotato​ for the beautiful banner! Love y’all! 

Outro: Tear - The Angst Now Told Master List

They always say ‘when you know, you know.’ 

Taehyung is beaming up at you, face hopeful as he awaits your response. He’s down on one knee at the very spot where he asked you to be his girlfriend almost two years ago. Now he’s asking you to be his bride. 

The ring is stunning, a simple gold band with an emerald cut diamond glittering in the sun. It’s just what you had always dreamed of and you know that Taehyung must have consulted your best friend when picking it out. 

Taehyung is still waiting. It’s taken you much too long to answer. His face is beginning to fall. You can tell he’s starting to get nervous so you try to find the word. The one word that will make him happy. The one word that promises a future together.

They’re right. You do know. You know that Taehyung is not the one for you.

Turning down Taehyung was the hardest thing you’ve had to do. At least until you had to watch him pack his things and move out of your shared apartment. Being the sweet boy that he is, he left you with a parting kiss on the cheek and a promise to always love you. 

Love, an interesting idea. Not one that you’re really familiar with. You had told Taehyung that you loved him, but now you’re not so sure. Was it just infatuation? Just really good sex? How can you ever be sure?

All the questions and uncertainties swirling in your head are drowned out by your third beer of the night. You would be completely gone by now if you hadn’t spent the evening eating your weight in carbs. The buzz is starting to warm you and maybe one more beer will help you forget. “Is this seat taken?” A familiar voice comes from behind your left shoulder. Maybe he can help you forget.

“It’s all yours... Yoongi.” You can feel his smirk radiating off of him before you even turn to look at him. He looks as beautiful as ever. His dark hair hangs so low on his face that it almost covers his beautiful brown eyes. You’re happy to see that he still keeps it pretty long. Your eyes trace each of his familiar features, his cheeks, his nose, the curve of his smile. The mischievous gleam in his eye is reminiscent of the boy you remember. You first met Yoongi back in high school. You were best friends with his sister and had been invited to their house for a sleepover. The moment you laid eyes on the older boy you were smitten. Of course Dahyun wasn’t thrilled about your crush, but she assumed it would play itself out. 

She was wrong.

It took a few years of pining, but when you and Yoongi both stayed in your hometown to attend the local college, the two of you became friends with benefits. A fun, no-strings-attached arrangement that was perfect for both of you. Eventually Yoongi graduated and moved to the big city to join an architecture firm. You were sad at first, but that ended up being the summer you met Taehyung.

“Haven’t seen you around here in awhile.” You tip back your glass and finish off your beer. 

“I moved back a few weeks ago. Found a firm here in town. I’m surprised Dahyun didn’t mention it.” Your body stiffens when he mentions his sister, your former friend. Maybe he didn’t know about the falling out the two of you had. Just under a week ago the two of you had gone out to celebrate her getting a new job. But now you don’t know if you’ll ever even talk to her again. 

“We haven’t really talked in a while actually.” Yoongi tilts his head at you. “We’ve just both been really busy lately.” That seems to satisfy him for the time being.

“I don’t really talk to her that much either to be honest. Haven’t heard from since she helped me move into my new place last month.” Yoongi isn’t shy about the way his eyes drag up and down your body. When his eyes meet yours again you know what he’s thinking.

“It’s only a few blocks over...” He pauses, it’s an invitation. Suddenly your pulse picks up and you can feel your face flush. The thought of being with Yoongi again is exciting. It has been less than three days since you watched Taehyung walk out your door, but now all you can think about is the feeling of Yoongi’s hands trailing down your skin. “Let’s go.” You smile and throw some cash down to cover your tab, quickly following Yoongi out of the bar.

Yoongi hails a cab and slides in first, giving his address to the driver. When you climb in after him he grabs hold of your waist and pulls you closer to his body. 

“What have you been up to beautiful?” Yoongi questions as he tucks your hair behind your ear. Hard to focus on the question when he’s in your space, his breath sending goosebumps down your arms. 

“I graduated a few months ago, found a job.” You finally respond after a moment. Your eyes meet his lust filled gaze and you’re sure he’s not really interested in what you have to say. 

Your thoughts are confirmed when Yoongi’s lips meet yours. It’s so easy to lose yourself in the familiar feeling of him. His hands on the curve of your hip, his mouth trailing the length of your neck.

You almost forget that you’re in a cab until it comes to stop outside Yoongi’s apartment building. Yoongi pays the driver and leads you up the steps of the brownstone building. 

He keeps an arm around you while he rushes to open the door, then when it's open he grabs your hand to pull you up the stairs behind him. He opens another door on the second floor and it opens up into a beautiful apartment. It's got to be twice the size of your place. 

"This place is beautiful Yoongi." You look around for a moment before Yoongi takes your face in his warm hands and kisses you again.

"You should see the bedroom, Princess." A chill runs down your spine. You can't tell if it's the sultry tone of his voice, the devilish grin on his face, or the fact that he used the nickname he used to call you back in the day.

He walks you backward down the hallway of his apartment, his lips never leaving yours. The bedroom is dark except for the light from the attached bathroom. He doesn't bother with the light though, he just wants you on his bed as soon as possible. 

When the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed his fingers find the hem of your blouse and pull it up over your head. He traces your side delicately before he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. You let go of your grip on Yoongi so that you can take the bra off. His lips move down to your neck. Kissing and nipping his way down until he reaches the swell of your breast. He noses his way back up to your face and kisses you again. 

He gently pushes you forward so that you are sitting on the bed. The mattress is firm but the blankets are so soft. You pull your jeans off quickly and Yoongi pulls his shirt over his head. You take that as your cue to reach for his belt. You've learned a few things since the last time you blew him and you were looking forward to showing him. 

"Not tonight Princess." Yoongi brings a hand up to your face and thumbs your lower lips gently before pushing into your mouth. You run your tongue over it and he sucks in a breath. 

"I won't last long with your mouth wrapped around me like that." Yoongi takes off his pants and climbs onto the bed next to you. He motions for you to move toward the headboard and waits for you to get settled. Then he slides his hands from your calves slowly up toward your hips. His body is hovering over your legs and you can feel your pulse thrumming throughout your body. 

He hooks his fingers into the band of your panties and slowly pulls them down before throwing them out of sight. He brings his face back down toward your center and you can feel yourself getting nervous. He can't be about to do what you think he is. 

Yoongi presses lightly on your legs to part them. He kisses and nibbles at your inner thighs and you're realizing that you aren't the only one here who's learned something new. 

"Can I?" Yoongi smiles and he must know the affect this is having on you. You nod your head quickly and he is on you just as quickly. He's lowered himself between your legs and his fingers spreading your lips apart to get a better look before he drags his tongue across your slit. You inhale sharply and you can only imagine the smirk he's wearing.

The feeling of his tongue on you sends heat through your veins and leaves your head spinning. He teases his tongue at your entrance while his thumb strokes gently over your clit. 

"Yoongi..." His name comes out as a moan. You're fighting against your hips to keep them from bucking each time he touches your now swollen bud. 

When he realizes the effect it has on you he switches his tactic. He moves his fingers down to your entrance and slowly pushes one inside you. His fingers are so long he can touch you in just the right places. And just when you think he's done his tongue finds your clit and the sound that escapes you is almost a scream.

"That's it Princess, let me hear you." When he's finished speaking he takes it a step further and begins lightly sucking the spot where his tongue was. It only takes a few seconds of this before you're approaching your climax.

He must sense it because he pulls away, leaving you squirming beneath him. He gets up from the bed long enough to take his boxers off and put on a condom. Then he's back, leaning over you to give you another kiss. 

"Are you ready?" He asks, his smile is sweet. 

"So ready Yoongi." With your permission, he lines himself up at your entrance. He captures your lips with his own and then begins pushing into you. You'd forgotten how big he is. He moves slowly, letting you adjust to his size and the fullness is such a good feeling. All thoughts of emptiness, loneliness, are gone. 

He's got one hand on either side of your head to support his weight, his face only an inch away from yours. He starts to move once you've adjusted to him and the friction already has your orgasm building again. You can feel his breathing pick up as he increases the speed of his hips. Your hands are resting on his back but you bring one of them up into his hair and tug gently.

He's fucking into you, all of the delicate movements from earlier are long forgotten. And you couldn't care less. With each thrust of his hips, his cock is hitting you in all the right places. The pleasure is pooling in your core and it won't be much longer before you're tipped over the edge. Yoongi's thrust begin to get sloppy and you know he'll be finished soon so you drop your hand down and being circling your clit with your fingers and soon you're cumming, clenching around him as he reaches his own climax. 

Yoongi lets himself collapse on top of you for a moment to catch his breath. He's heavy on top of you but it feels nice to have him close to you again. Once both of you are breathing semi normally again he gets off of you and off of the bed. He walks toward the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. 

You let yourself sit for a moment, but you can't let yourself get comfortable. Looking around the dark room, you can't see where your phone ended up, so you get out of the bed to look around. Yoongi returns from the bathroom wearing a fresh pair of boxers and gets back in his bed. You decide to take that as your cue to exit, so you grab your clothes from around the room and begin dressing.

“Woah, what are you doing?” Yoongi sits up from his relaxed position. Why does he look surprised?

“I’m doing what I always do.” You tug your shirt over your head. Yoongi’s mouth is hanging open, he looks like he wants to say something.

“Why don’t you stay?” He says after a moment, taking you aback. This isn’t how things work. You’re ready to remind him of that when you’re reminded of the empty bed waiting for you at home. 

“It’s pretty late and it’s cold out.” Yoongi pulls back the covers and continues. “And it’s warm in here.” You mull the decision over for a moment before you climb back into Yoongi’s bed. 

It is warm. And he brings the blanket up to your shoulders and then quickly jerks it over your head, which confuses you. 

“Yoongi what are you doing?” Your voice is muffled from under the blanket so you pull it back down. He’s laughing and looking at you with a goofy smile, something you’re not used to. You feel your chest tighten and you quickly turn away.

The warmth radiating from his body draws you in, but you want to run away. As if he can feel your uneasiness, Yoongi drapes an arm over your hip, pulling you closer. Then tension in your body melts instantly, but the tension in your mind stays. How can your mind and body be so at war with each other?

Your thoughts keep you awake long after Yoongi’s begun lightly snoring. There is nothing left to keep the thoughts of Taehyung away. You can imagine that he’s staying with Jimin or Jungkook tonight. Your brain keeps replaying the moment he said goodbye until you finally fall asleep.

~~~~~~~

“So, uh, listen...” Yoongi watches as you pull your pants up over your hips and button them. What could he possibly want now. You stayed the night, slept through his snoring, and woke up to his morning wood. Maybe he wants some help with it... you wouldn’t say no to a second round.

“About last night...” Oh, here it comes. The I-don’t-wanna-see-you-again spiel. You’re now fully clothed, Yoongi’s still laying in his boxers, hands behind his head.

“I don’t want to do the casual sex thing again.” 

“It’s fine Yoongi, I get it. It’s just a one off, no worries.” You wave him off, thinking he would be relieved at your compliance. But instead he gets up out of bed and walks toward you.

“No, that’s not what I mean at all. I want to try... this. Us.” He motions back and forth between you to demonstrate his point. Us. The look on your face must be something between shock and confusion. Your eyebrows are raised, mouth hanging open. This is not what you had expected. 

The past year and half with Taehyung play in your mind while you stare back at Yoongi. You like Yoongi. He’s a good guy, but this is just a rebound. There is no way in hell that you’re ready for another relationship.

“Well...” The way smile droops slightly at your hesitation makes you feel awful. “Okay.” Fuck. Why did you say that?

“Really?” Yoongi’s cheeks rise, eyes disappearing. “Yeah.” His arms are around you before you can really think. His hold tightens and you begin feeling suffocated in more ways than one.

~~~~~~~

Your phone vibrates on the dresser, letting you know that Yoongi has arrived and your first date is about to begin. You’ve spent the last few minutes staring in the mirror, picking at your fingers. Why did you agree to this? Why are you so nervous? First date jitters laced with the guilt of knowing your heart isn’t in this. Why isn’t your heart in it? Why can’t you ever just let someone care about you?

With one final deep breath, you take a step out of your apartment. Yoongi is standing on the curb, leaning up against his black Jetta. It's quite a step up from his battered maroon Saturn from his college days. Yoongi was fighting the tug of his lips as you walked closer to him. But he's not shy about the way his eyes drag up the length of your legs, or the way they follow the neckline of your dress.

Yoongi looks incredible in his black leather jacket. He’s wearing a charcoal v-neck under it paired with some black jeans that really make his ass look good. 

The car ride is near silent once you realize you will be unable to crack his resolve. He won't tell you where you're going to eat dinner. When you pull up to Tommy’s Burgers, you're less than thrilled.

Yoongi is smirking, so you know he's up to something. Nonetheless, the two of you get out of the car and walk toward the restaurant. Yoongi jogs slightly ahead of you to grab the door. Looking around the dining area, and then to the staff behind the counter, you can see that the two of you are very overdressed. But Yoongi is still wearing his sly grin, so you follow him to the counter. He orders two burgers, fries, and shakes. When the two of you are seated across from each other at a large booth, food in front of you, you finally give in. 

"Okay Yoongi. I'll bite. What are we doing here?" He raises an eyebrow at you before he wipes his greasy hand on his napkin. He opens his arms and motions to the table the two of you are sitting in.

"This is the exact place where we shared our first meal." The laugh that escapes you is not cute. But you're convinced that he's thinking of someone else, and for once you feel slightly relieved. 

"You don't believe me?" You shake your head at his question.

"It was 2009. And I was a Sophomore in high school and you were an eighth grader and my sister had dragged you along with us to dinner." Yoongi looks at you for a moment before continuing.

"You sat there next to my sister and talked about some boy and I thought that you were so annoying." And that day comes flooding back to your memory. Yoongi watches closely as the memories flood your brain. It probably seemed like a simple family dinner to the Mins, but they probably didn't realize they had picked you up from home where your parents were in the middle of The Fight.

The Fight. The one where they decided to get a divorce. One of the last times you had seen your dad. After that night you shared many more family dinners with the Mins. Many sleepovers with Dahyun turned to sanctuaries. A safe place away from the pain waiting for you at home. God you miss them.

"I thought you were cute." You admit, dangerously close to flirting. You shouldn’t be flirting with him, you don’t even want to be here, do you? But Yoongi just puts you at ease.

"Oh I know." Yoongi laughs. "Your crush on me wasn't subtle, Y/N." You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. "Do you still think I'm cute?" He asks, smile not wavering.

"Nope." You lie, he feigns sadness. "Good thing you've got all that charm to make up for it." 

The night continues on like this. Flirting, smiling, giggling, and you're actually having a good time.  But now the fries are gone and the shakes are melted. And it's time to go.

Yoongi takes you home, walks you to the door, kisses you on the lips, and waits. And he waits.

"Are you... going to invite me in?" Yoongi asks, leaning against the door frame as you finally unlock the door. The door opens and you lean up slowly, nose trailing his jawline up to his ear.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening." And you give him one more kiss before you go inside and shut the door behind you.

You can't keep this up much longer. Yoongi is really in this. He planned a beautiful date - and you had a nice time. But this was just supposed to be a rebound. You hate yourself for leading him on, but the thought of telling him the truth makes your stomach turn.

~~~~~~~

Dating Yoongi is much different than you had imagined. After the first few times he took you out, date nights became just sitting on his couch with snacks and a movie. You certainly weren't complaining. Before the first movie night at Yoongi's place, the two of you went to the convenience store to pick out snacks. He grabbed a box of microwave popcorn and a packet of sour patch kids. When you grabbed your movie night staple, he pretended to gag. You then had to explain that even though Twizzlers taste like plastic, they are still your favorite movie snack. Ever since that day though, he's had Twizzlers for you at every movie night.

Yoongi is an absolutely horrible person to watch movies with. He wants complete silence while the film plays and every time you make a comment about an actress or a line from the movie he ignores you. He tries to get you to stop talking by playfully cupping his hand over your mouth or by slapping you with one of your precious Twizzlers. Though when you told him how sad Jack’s death in *Titanic* made you, he tightened his hold around you and brought your head down to lay on his chest.

You fell asleep like that after the movie. Just Yoongi holding you, soothingly rubbing his hand over your side. Maybe it was something you could get used to afterall... 

~~~~~~~

About a month into the relationship, Yoongi invited you out to the bar with his friends. When he introduced you to Namjoon and Seokjin, he called you his girlfriend. It was the first time he had used the word and you could feel your insides twisting. You just smiled and shook their hands.

Namjoon works with Yoongi at the architecture firm and Seokjin is Namjoon's roommate. They all seemed to get along pretty well, but you couldn't get your mind off of the word "girlfriend." It made you stop and think about the past month that you've spent with Yoongi. Five dates, three movie nights, and lots of sex. Yoongi knew how to make you feel good and you enjoyed spending time with him, but the words "relationship" and "boyfriend" leave a bad taste in your mouth. The thought weighs you down throughout the evening.

"Would you mind dropping me off at my place?" You ask while the two of you walk back to Yoongi's car.

"You don't wanna spend the night?" Yoongi leans in front of you to open the car door for you. You slide into the car, avoiding looking up at him. After a moment he closes the door and walks around to your side.

"Is everything alright? You were pretty quiet tonight." Yoongi turns the key in the ignition and the radio turns on. The melody of a song you recognize fills the car, distracting you from his question. Yoongi reaches over to turn the music down slightly, regaining your attention.

"If this is about that dumb joke Seokjin made, I'm sorry. He doesn't always think before he talks." You can't help but chuckle. That joke actually had made you laugh.

"No, Yoongi, that's not it. I've just got a bit of a headache from the noise of the bar." You instinctively reach out and grab his hand. When did that become instinctual? "Your friends are really great."

"Okay, if you're sure there's not anything you want to talk about..." He’s given you the perfect opportunity to fess up. Why can’t you get these words out? He squeezes your hand in his before letting go to put the car in drive. The drive home is filled with the quiet music from the radio and some idle chatter.

When the car pulls up outside your apartment building, you give Yoongi a peck on the lips and say goodnight. He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes and you hope that he can't tell that there's something more than a headache brewing in your mind.

~~~~~~~

As you sit your living room, dim lighting from the lamp on your side, you can't help but wish you had someone to call. A friend to talk to about your predicament. But instead you sit and stare at the TV that's tuned to a local news station. Rain is in the forecast.

Before the falling out, you would normally call Dahyun and cry to her. She had been there for you through some of your darkest moments. She was there when your dad left. When your mom remarried. And she was there when he cheated on you. 

But that changed when you rejected Taehyung's proposal.

The thing about your relationship with Taehyung is: it started out as friends with benefits too. You never expected things to become serious. No part of you had considered a serious relationship since the last one. It left you too broken.

After two months of that secret arrangement with Taehyung, Dahyun admitted that she had a crush on him. You panicked and didn’t know what to do, so you just told her. She pretended she wasn’t upset, but you knew her better than that. You offered to back off but she brushed it off as a silly crush. 

When Taehyung asked you out for real, she pushed you to date him. She said her feelings were gone. But as time went on and things got more serious with Taehyung, Dahyun became sort of distant. It was clear to you that her crush hadn't gone away.

She had obviously helped him pick out the ring and you can only imagine how painful that must have been for her, knowing how she felt. And then when you turned down Taehyung, she lost it. She screamed at you. How could you be so selfish? How could you be so blind to the perfect man who was completely devoted to you?

You haven't spoken to her since that night and you aren't looking forward to explaining that to Yoongi. But you promised yourself you would tell him about everything sooner rather than later. Because he deserves to know the truth, no matter how much it would hurt you to tell him.

But sooner turns to later much quicker than you anticipated.

Because before you know it, you're three months in. And there has been lots of dates and lots of kisses and even more sex. But now Yoongi's got a look in his eye, one that you recognize. One you've seen before.

Yoongi is sitting next to you on a park bench. The two of you had a nice dinner and you were walking back to his apartment, but he stopped you. He motioned for you to sit on the bench and now he's looking down at you. He reaches over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear and he places a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Y/N, I know we've only been together for a couple of months, but... I think I'm in love with you." Yes, there it is. The hopeful look. He’s waiting for you to respond. But this time you can't find the words to return the sentiment. You can see Yoongi's eyes searching your own, looking for a response. You start to say something, anything. Maybe now is the time to tell him everything. Okay it's horrible timing but he needs to know.

"Hey, it's okay. I know talking about your feelings isn't that easy for you. You don't have to say it until you're really ready." Yoongi cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. "I just wanted you to know how I feel. And if I'm being honest, I think my feelings for you have always been strong."

At this Yoongi shifts slightly in his seat. His arm comes to rest behind you on the back of the bench. He looks around for a moment, taking in the scenery of the park. You get a chance to take in the scenery of him.

The curve of his cheeks, the straight edge of his jaw. The pink color of his lips, lips that you really enjoy kissing. But before you can reach up to kiss him, he speaks again.

"When we were messing around in college I was immature and I didn't want to admit it, but my feelings were strong for you back then. I'm so glad I found my way back to you." You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes and streaking down your face. Yoongi laughs quietly to himself before wiping them away.

The fall breeze cools the wet spots on your face, sending a chill through your body. Yoongi is smiling, so he must think these are tears of joy. But you know that they aren't - they're tears of mixed emotions that you don't have the mental capacity to think about right now.

“You know you’re kind of like a deer.” He chuckles to himself. 

“How so?” You question, looking straight ahead toward the grassy area of the park. 

“Every time I try to get close to you, you get that look in your eyes. Like you’re ready to bolt.” He has no idea how true that is. Except you really feel more like a snake. 

“Don’t worry baby, we can take it slow.”

~~~~~~~

"I want you to come home with me for Christmas." You stop chopping the onion mid cut, caught off guard by his request.

Yoongi had surprised you by bringing some groceries over to your place. He knew that you had been stressed at work and he thought cooking together might help you destress. Little does he know he’s just piling on more stress. 

"Yoongi, I'm not sure that's a great idea." As hard as it is for you to be honest with him, this is something that you can't hold back. "You know I love your family, but Dahyun still doesn't know about us and... we aren't really friends anymore."

Yoongi is searching for the right pan to use to cook the chicken. He peers over at you from behind the cabinet door. You knew that he had been avoiding bringing his sister up because every time that you do, you shut down entirely.

"When are we going to talk about what happened between you two? Before I moved back y'all were still best friends." You turn away from him and try to continue chopping the veggies.

"Yoongi... I'm sorry but I just can't yet. It's too much." You can hear him sigh in response from the other side of the kitchen. He sets a large pot on the stove top and turns the heat on before making his way over to you.

You try not to let him distract you from your chopping, but then you feel his hands slide over your hips and wrap you in a hug. He places his chin on your shoulder and that's when you realize how tensed up you are. You take a deep breath and let yourself relax into his embrace. Yoongi nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck before kissing you there.

"You're going to have to open up to me sometime, Y/N." And then he lets go of you leaving you feeling cold inside and out.

~~~~~~~

The last place you want to be two days before Christmas is the mall. Everyone is running around the mall fighting for last minute gifts. Normally you don’t buy gifts for anyone. Christmas is not your thing. But Yoongi made an off hand comment about finding the perfect gift for you and you realized that you should probably get him something too. 

Christmas is your least favorite holiday. You had stopped going home to see your mother and step dad years ago. Too many bad memories associated with it and every time you would visit your mom she would try to start a new tradition. It was like she was trying to slap a band aid over the pieces of your broken family. 

You had since started your own tradition: pretending it’s not Christmas. Of course Yoongi wasn’t thrilled to hear that because he enjoys his family’s Christmas traditions. He wanted you to come with him to watch movies, eat sweet treats, and exchange gifts. He tried several times to convince you, but you wouldn’t budge on it. 

In fact, Yoongi had been pushing you a lot lately. You understand why he wants you to open up, but he’s been asking you personal questions almost every time he sees you. But here you are, walking aimlessly around the mall. 

You had never been good at buying gifts for people. You know a lot about Yoongi and the things that he likes, but he is also an adult with a good job and he buys himself the things that he wants. You’re hating every second of this shopping trip, but you’re doing it for him. Is this what love is..? Doing something you hate for someone you care about?

You settle for a nice new faux leather wallet. You're pretty sure he has been using the same wallet since high school and it is very worn out. You had begged him for information about the gift he purchased for you so that you could figure out what kind of gift to get him, but all he did was promise that he didn't spend too much money.

Yoongi had agreed to come to your place this time. The two of you usually spend time at his much nicer apartment, but you didn't feel like driving in the snow, so he came over with take out from your favorite place to eat.

After grabbing a couple of plates you sit down across from him at your small table. He is beaming and you can't help but smile back at him.

"What is it?" You ask, reaching for one of the to go containers.

"I've been holding onto this for almost two weeks now and I have to give it to you right now." He laughs and pushes the gift bag across the table.

"Maybe you should open mine first it's not-"

"No I can’t wait another second." He nudges the bag one more time, the excitement evident on his face, so you grab the bag. You slowly pull out the layers of tissue paper and find a lump of something wrapped in even more tissue paper.

Yoongi's excitement level makes you nervous, but nonetheless you still pull out the gift and quickly pull back the paper. Your heart stops when you realize that the soft brown plush is a beautiful wide-eyed deer. There is a bright red bow wrapped around its neck. You turn it in your hands for a moment letting it sink in.

"Do you remember?" You look up at him and nod.

"Of course I do... Yoongi this is-"

"Listen I know I've been pushing you a bit the past few weeks, asking you to open up and let me in... But I just wanted to remind you, remind both of us, that I'm here for the long haul and we can take this as slow you need my little deer. I love you."

He is giving you a soft smile when you look up at him. The deer is so soft and you hold it close to your chest.

"Thank you Yoongi." He reaches out for your hand and squeezes it.

After a moment you set the deer down and get up from your seat. You grab the small box from the coffee table and hand it over to him.

You watch while he opens it, feeling bad about your choice in gift. You chose something practical, and Yoongi picked something meaningful. But if he’s disappointed by your gift, he’s doing a great job of hiding it. 

He’s holding up the wallet, running his fingers over the seams, brandishing a wide smile. 

“Baby this is perfect. God I’ve needed a new wallet for so long.” He leans over the table to kiss you and then immediately begins transferring things from his old wallet into the new one. “My dad is gonna be so impressed tomorrow, he’s been bugging me to get a new wallet for ages.”

Any amount of joy you were feeling vanishes. Yoongi would be going to see his family tomorrow. He had agreed not to mention you, but there’s no guarantee that Dahyun or his parents won’t mention you off hand. If someone brings you up, you’re sure Dahyun will update them about what went down with you. 

You can feel the panic rising inside you again. You have to tell him. But once again you fail to find the words you need to tell him the truth.

~~~~~~~

Normally you would just relax, drink some tea, maybe even do some laundry. But all you can do today is sit in bed and wait. Hoping that neither Yoongi or Dahyun mentions you today. The regret of not telling him the truth is finally catching up to you and you're paralyzed.

You haven't felt this way since he admitted to cheating on you. You were too young, too naive to give your heart to him. You really thought he loved you, but when you found out what he had been up to, you realized that you didn't even know what it means. To love, to be loved. Nobody teaches you that so how can you ever know for sure?

You've been too afraid to face your past heartbreak and to consider how it's affected you now. You've spent the past few months with Yoongi, hating yourself for not being able to love him back. Holding back so much of yourself has closed you off from so many people and now you could lose Yoongi.

The thought of seeing him walk out the door the same way Taehyung did terrifies you. You just wish he was here now to hold you and tell you that everything will be okay. You miss him and it hasn't even been a full day since you last saw him. You glance over at the plush deer on your bedside table. Maybe it's time to actually let someone in... Let yourself try to love someone again.

You: Miss you! Have a good day with your family! [1:07pm]

Yoongi: Just got here actually, mom's been in the kitchen all day. [1:08pm]

There's an image attached, Mrs. Min in the kitchen, surrounded by pots, pans, and dishes steaming with delicious foods. You can spot some of her signature mashed potatoes in the picture too, your favorite. If you hadn't any courage in you, you would be there right now with the people you once considered family.

You: Those potatoes look so good - have some for me! [1:08pm]

Yoongi: I'll try to snag some for you. [1:12pm]

Yoongi: Dahyun is here, mom is confiscating the phones. Talk to you later baby. [1:13pm]

And with that you're left to sit and wait and hope that the truth doesn't come out before you get a chance to tell him yourself.

You spend the day stress cleaning. Scrubbing away the dirt and grime around your home. Clearing out the garbage and hoping that it will somehow clear your mind.

Around 7pm you take a break to reheat some leftovers. You still have no notifications on your phone. You had been expecting Yoongi to be leaving his parents' house around this time, but maybe he is staying later.

As more time passes without a call or text you start to get worried. To quell your anxiety you go back to the kitchen to hand dry the dishes you left in the drying rack. Before you're even half way done the door handle jiggles.

When Yoongi walks into the apartment you notice that his key is no longer attached to his key chain and you can feel the color drain from your face. He set the key on the counter and then he takes his backpack off his shoulders. He reaches in and takes out a tupperware container. He brought you mashed potatoes.

"Yoongi? Are those for me?" You smile. He nods and walks toward you with the container. He sets his bag down on the counter and you grab to forks for the potatoes. 

“How was your day? How is everyone?” Yoongi pinches the bridge on his nose, the way he does when he's getting a headache. You take a big bite of the potatoes. They’re cold but still delicious. 

"So Dahyun brought her new boyfriend with her." You swallow hard.

"Oh yeah?" Please don't be Taehyung. Please don't be Taehyung. Please don't be Taehyung.

"Yeah... His name's Taehyung. I thought he looked familiar and then he said he went to the same University as me." At this point you've stopped eating completely.

"Uh huh..." You nod slowly, encouraging him to go on, wishing that he wouldn't.

"He said that he dated you." You can feel the color draining from your face. "He said that he had proposed to you."

"Yoongi I-"

"Is this what you've been hiding from me? What you've been holding back?" You're unable to move, your stomach has dropped and you can feel yourself turning red.

"Why didn't you just tell me? I don't care about your past... I thought you would know that by now." He's not meeting your gaze, he's hurt.

"Dahyun said... she said some things about you." He pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Can you just... tell me what happened between you? I need to hear it from you." This is it. The time to come clean. You clear your throat before attempting to speak again.

"Tae and I were friends with benefits. We met the summer after you left." Now it's you who is averting his gaze. Suddenly the blank wall of your short hallway is much more interesting. "We were never supposed to be more than that but he wanted more." You try to keep your voice calm.

"Did you want more too?" Yoongi is fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.

"I... I couldn't say no to him." At this, Yoongi grimaces. Probably remembering the moment when you reluctantly agreed to be with him. "We dated for over a year and when he proposed I turned him down."

"Why?" When you look over at him, he's looking at you.

"I didn't love him." Yoongi searches your eyes, you're not sure he'll find what he's looking for.

"How long?" Your face wrinkles in confusion, but he clarifies. "How long after his proposal did we get together?"

"I don't remember." You quickly look away, your pulse increasing. He knows everything, doesn't he?

"Dahyun said the proposal was in the summer." You nod slowly in response. "Did you even wait a week before we hooked up?" His calmness from earlier seems to be slipping. His hands clenching into fists.

"I'm so sorry, Yoongi." He closes his eyes tightly at this. He had been hoping it Dahyun was lying about you, but she wasn't.

"Has this all been a lie then?" He's speaking much louder now that his fears have been confirmed.

"No! Yoongi, of course not. I care about you so much." It's true, you do care about him. He's been nothing but good to you for the past few months.

After a brief pause, he asks the question you've been dreading.

"Do you love me or not?" Tears begin pooling in your eyes. You can't answer because you can't lie to him again, but you can't bring yourself to say the truth out loud.

After what feels like an eternity of silence, Yoongi speaks again.

"I could see us in a house next year. With a cat. Flowers out front. I want that. I want to be with you. So please, Y/N, please just tell me that you love me too." Yoongi waits, looking at you expectantly. The tears that were pooling in your eyes are starting to fall.

"I think I could. Yoongi I just need more time."

"That's not enough for me." He takes his bag and walks toward your bedroom in the back of the apartment. You're stunned for a second but then you follow after him.

"Yoongi please-" You can see that he's rummaging through your chest of drawers to gather the things that he's left here over the course of your relationship. "Please don't go."

"I'm not going to wait around for two years like Taehyung did." He shuts the drawers and then moves past you to the bathroom to grab the rest of his belongings.

"It's not the same Yoongi-"

"How is it not the same?" He cuts you off again. "We were both just casual sex to you. You had no intention of either relationship going anywhere, so what's the point in waiting around?" He exits the bathroom and goes back down the hallway toward the front door.

He's not wrong about that. You hadn't intended for this to go anywhere that night in the bar. But now, for the first time, you think you might be able to love someone and here he is, walking out the door. Before you can think of something to say, a way to ask him to stay, he turns and looks back at you. He's crying now too.

"Have you ever loved anyone? Are you even capable of it?" You close your eyes tightly as a fresh stream of tears come. You know he's only saying it because he's hurt, but the venom on his tongue still stings.

He pauses at the door to take the key to your apartment off his key ring. He stops at the door and looks at you one more time. He’s giving you one last chance to say something, something that might make him change his mind. And when you can’t, he turns and walks out the door.

~~~~~~~

One Year Later

The Christmas card on the refrigerator depicts a happy family. Mr. and Mrs. Min, Dahyun and Taehyung, and Yoongi with a woman you don’t recognize. The six of them are wearing color coordinated outfits and they look so beautiful that it almost makes you sick. 

“Oh I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think about you seeing it.” Hoseok’s voice pulls you out of the trance you’re in. 

“No it’s okay Hobi. I know they’re your friends too.” Hoseok reaches into the fridge and grabs two sodas. You had offered to get them, but you were distracted. 

“Are you sure you’re okay you seemed pretty out of it.” He laughs, but you also know that he wants a real answer. Hoseok came into your life at just the right time. After everything with Yoongi... you had never felt more broken. But the universe gifted you with sunshine incarnate as your new coworker. 

The two of you had gotten close quickly and he was able to get you to open up. He was your shoulder to cry on. Your ugly parts didn’t scare him away and you were so thankful to have someone like him. 

“Didn’t your therapist say you should say your feelings out loud so you can make better sense of them?” He grabs your hand and squeezes it to encourage you. Hoseok was the one who suggested therapy. It was hard at first, but it’s really helped you break down your walls. 

“I feel.... Hopeful?” You turn away from the refrigerator, away from the Christmas card. “They’ve all been through so much. I put them through so much pain.” Hoseok shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything because it’s the truth. 

“Even though they went through all that... they were still able to find happiness again. So maybe I will too.”

[btshodown]

Outro: Tear Collab Teaser

↳ “It’s been said that if you truly love something, you must set it free and if it comes back it is yours. If it doesn’t….well then it was never meant to be. You just never thought you’d be the one being set free; let alone never remembering who had let you go to begin with.”

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jimin Genre/Warnings: Royal AU | Angst + Smut | Mentions of blood, head trauma and attempted murder. Unprotected sex, virgin reader, virgin Namjoon, oral (f receiving), creampie, dirty talk, somewhat dom Jimin. Word Count: TBA

➭ Monachopsis n. the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to your surroundings as a seal on a beach—lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you’d be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.

Things were perfect. Things were falling into place so easily into your life. You were marrying the man of everybody’s dreams. Prince Jimin is the definition of the perfect husband; kind, gentle, understanding, incredibly handsome...so why on earth did you feel so empty every time he smiled at you? Why did your heart stay still every time his fingers caressed your face? Why did the butterflies stay stagnant in your stomach whenever his lips brushed yours? 

Was there something wrong with you? In the late nights as he slept beside you and the crickets chirped, your eyes couldn’t linger on his sleeping face as it only made the hollow feeling grow. Your own brain became a stranger to you while your body tried it’s hardest to have you figure out why you felt so out of place. Feeling as if your own castle walls and corridors that you grew up with were laughing at you for feeling so misplaced.

The faces of your family on the hung portraits blur into a cacophony of pitying stares, urging the void in your heart to consume your breath and leave you to escape out into the gardens for air. Even the flowers that became your friends when you were a child face away from you, hiding their own pity for what has become of your sanity.

Time passes and the cold ground you sat on at some point is biting into your skin, sending shivers throughout your veins until the cold settles deep within your bones. It should scare you; how comforting the chill feels compared to the warmth of your fiance’s body. Why couldn’t you be happy? Why did this hollowness persist to linger even when you try your hardest to be content?

Desperation claws at your throat and the urge to scream is debilitating; forcing you to stand and quickly run to escape the tears threatening to fall. Your sleeping gown tries its hardest to stop you with each step, pleading for you to stop and head back to bed. But your body knows better. 

Your feet carry you despite the ground turning rough as you enter the grounds leading to the stables and they continue to lead you until you reach the stable containing your Friesian stallion. Your breath comes out in puffs in front of you from the cold, but you don’t feel the ice slowly chilling your skin, too busy staring at the horse you grew up with. Or so you were told, as you can’t pull a single memory of you ever riding it.

And even still, this quiet stable filled with all the horses used for the royal family feels more like your home than the bed containing your husband to be. Your heart feels warm and the feeling has your eyes watering; how long has it been since you felt like you belonged? Why did this beautiful stallion look at you with all the answers you’re seeking in its black eyes?

“Y/n...?”

For the first time in months you feel your heart skip a beat at the deep voice softly calling your name, lulling the lingering desperation in your soul. Your lids even flutter close for a quick moment as your ears savor the sound like molten gold. Your body felt so starved suddenly; a sound you had no idea you were craving and the abrupt longing you felt for this stranger had tears fighting to escape your eyes.

“Y/n - I mean - your highness, are you alright? What are you doing out here so late at night? It isn’t safe for you to be alone here.”

You taste salt as the tears rush down your face and your body physically aches at the concern you can hear so palpable in his voice. Despite your body vibrating with ardent yearning to turn around and hold the man behind you, your mind keeps you frozen in confusion. You shouldn’t feel so at home here and you most definitely shouldn’t feel such a disturbing amount of longing for a man you don’t recognize. The desperation returns with a roar and shakes your body as the tears continue to fall; the hollow feeling eating away at your heart.

“Princess please answer me, you are beginning to worry me,” the man is closer and with a tentative hand he touches your arm, almost lovingly so.

The gentle touch has your control breaking as it ignites a want in you so strong that it has your mind reeling; thoughts fighting each other to be heard. A violent sob rips out of your throat as you quickly turn to face the man, desperate in seeing who is causing your reality to break. Only you weren’t ready and now your world is upside down.

Soft, brown eyes and full lips that rival Jimin’s rest on such a handsome face, with such delicate features and yet the sharp edge of his jaw and strong brows show his masculinity. His figure is tall and broad, with strong hands that hover over your skin in caution, not wanting to upset you further. But the damage is done.

Who is he and why do you feel like he’s holding the missing piece to a puzzle you had no idea you were trying to solve?

“Princess -”

“Don’t,” you cut him off before he can continue, your chest heaving with the sobs you try repressing and your tears showing no signs of stopping, “please don’t.”

The tall man closes his mouth and retracts his hovering hand, bones cracking at how strongly he closes it into a fist. He stays quiet, but his eyes show a sadness so deep it cuts into your soul. 

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair how you’re the only one whose kept in the dark about a secret no one wants to reveal. It was driving you mad.

“Who are you?” The man sucks in a breath, so silent you might have missed it were it not for the silent night; his eyes look even more pained. And madder you became. “I asked you a question! Who are you?!”

The anguish in his eyes rips your heart apart and makes your bottom lip quiver, the tears not once pausing their descent. But somehow his response does little to quiet your desolation and it only makes your fall into madness accelerate, confusion bleeding into your tears. 

“I am just the stable boy for the royal family’s steeds.”

You had no explanation as to why his answer felt so wrong it simultaneously angered you and shattered your heart. He was only the stable boy after all.

[bangtiddies]

The Traces of You

Pairing: Jimin x reader Genre: Heavy Angst Rating: PG13 Words: 2.1k Warnings: major character death, grief, smoking (cigarette)

Summary: You want to move on, to let go, but the ghost of your soulmate won’t stop haunting you.

Part of the OUTRO: TEAR Angst Collab

Note: Massive thank you to @personawife for creating this collab and to @mygsii for being an amazing beta reader! Also big thanks to @agustdsbbygirl​ @taehyung-me-down @solarjeon @ddaenggtan @joonsrack @babayagadook @loveejoon and the rest of the collab members for helping me and jamming my fic with me! Please make sure to check the other works in this collab out!

Your bed feels empty.

There was never a presence of a person there, no traces of your soulmate left behind. You never shared a bed with him, and yet, it feels empty.

Despite having spent many nights alone in your bed before three days ago, your bed feels like it wasn’t made for just one person. That it’s not made for you anymore. You feel like you’re half of a whole, the other half disappeared into the abyss and never coming back.

The analog clock ticking on the wall is stuck at two thirty-four, the second hand trying to move but still staying in place. Stuck on the moment when fate decided to end a journey. Two thirty-four in the afternoon, three days ago, was the day your whole life fell apart. When your heart lurched and broke into small pieces as your soulmate breathed his last breath.

The broken analog clock on the wall reminds you of what happened three days ago.

Three days ago, when your other half left the earth.

Three days ago, when Jimin passed away.

You didn’t know Jimin was your soulmate until the moment he died. 

You didn’t know when you were in the hospital, waiting in anticipation as Jimin fought for survival after a terrible accident.

You didn’t know while you were comforting Taehyung, who was in tears for Jimin, for his best friend.

You didn’t know until your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest and you could no longer stand, the pain in your chest unbearable. Crying out in pain over the loss of a connection you never knew about.

Your ears rang, a high pitched sound playing over the yells of concern from the others around you. The last thing you saw were the doors to Jimin’s surgery room before you passed out.

When you woke up, the nurse tending your bed in a hospital room told you what happened.

Jimin passed away.

His time of death was the same time you passed out.

Jimin passed away.

The pain that you felt was probably from a broken soulmate connection.

Jimin passed away.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your soulmate – the one you never got to hold in your arms, the one you never got to call your soulmate – was dead.

Before he died, Jimin was your friend. Not your soulmate, but your friend.

After his death, all you can think about are the moments you spent with him.

Those days cuddled up on the couch in the living room of his flat with the rest of the boys and watching the whole fifteen-hour director’s cut of The Lord of The Rings trilogy. Those mornings sipping coffee and taking painkillers after a night of drinking and bad decisions. Those shy and intimate moments you had with Jimin alone, where the two of you would talk about soulmates and the hope that you’d find them.

If only you knew.

Even before you knew he was your soulmate, those moments with Jimin were a bright and happy yellow.

Now, you’re navigating life through dull greys and cold blues.

Lying in your bed alone in your room is getting unbearable, the ticks of the broken analog clock driving you crazy. You try to sleep, but the feeling of loneliness unsettles you. Tossing and turning, you try counting sheep, listening to the rain, doing anything you can to calm you to sleep. But to no avail. Sighing, you get out of bed. There’s no point in lying in bed if you’re not sleeping. Might as well do something.

You walk out of your room, staring at nothing in your dark living room. Adjusting your eyes to your surroundings, you notice somebody snoozing away on your living room couch. Jungkook. He’s been letting himself in your flat a lot more recently. Perhaps he can’t stand being alone in his own flat either.

You return to your room to grab a blanket for Jungkook. Once you’ve covered him up with it, you turn your head toward your keys hanging on the key hook by your front door. You contemplate.

And just like you did last night, you grab your keys and head outside to your car.

The full moon and stars look down on you with pity as you drive to the same place you visited last night.

Jimin’s flat is empty. Hardly anyone has been here for the last three days. Namjoon is home sometimes, to look at Jimin’s door in melancholy. You’re not sure if he still lives here, or if he’s opted to stay at Taehyung and Yoongi’s place like Hoseok has.

Seeing the flat so empty is painful.

The walls of the flat hold stories of movie marathons, of intense UNO games, of impromptu dance competitions. You run your fingers along the walls as you walk through the place where your soulmate once lived.

The walls are probably lonely too, the once happy walls now a sad beige.

The curtains in the living area are drawn, and despite it being night right now, you doubt anyone has opened the curtains for three days. The coffee table in between the couch and the TV seems to have been cleaned since the last time you were here, but Jimin’s mug is still sitting there on the coffee table. It appears like no one has moved it, waiting for the day when Jimin puts the mug away himself.

You want to cry when you see the mug still on the coffee table, the cartoon character on the mug smiling back at you. Perhaps the reason why nobody has moved it is because seeing in on the table makes it feels like Jimin’s still here.

You wish he was.

Jimin’s funeral took place two days after his death.

The whole day was a blur to you, your heart aching in pain at the sight of your friend, your soulmate, looking so peaceful yet lifeless. The constant clench of your heart, the struggle to breathe, the need to scream at the universe for being so unfair, they have been with you since the moment Jimin passed away.

You hadn’t gotten over the loss of a soulmate connection. You were empty, emotionless. There was no use in having your heart still beating when the one it was beating for was no longer alive.

Seeing people cry at the funeral was heartbreaking for you. During eulogies, songs being sung, poems being recited, there were sniffles and tears breaking out through the whole room. 

It got to the point where you felt like you couldn’t take it, lungs filled up with overwhelming emotion and anxiety. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to be feeling so broken – you didn’t know Jimin as well as others in the room. You were confused, upset, broken, but also scorning yourself for feeling like your pain is as painful as everyone else’s.

You decided that you needed some fresh air and you walk out of the building, out of the suffocating silence and sniffles. You didn’t expect to see Namjoon standing outside, cigarette in hand and eyes closed as if he was trying to stop his own emotions from overwhelming him. He opened his eyes when he heard you walking towards him.

“Hey,” you said. You gave him a concerned look. “You okay?”

“No,” he sighed. “But we’ll get past it, yeah?”

He gave you a pained smile, taking out his box of cigarettes from his pocket and offering you one. There were only a handful left. You were tempted, ready to take a stick, to inhale the nicotine and tar, to exhale the pain away. But despite how you were feeling, you knew that the pain wouldn’t go away with a cigarette, you knew that the guilt of smoking would take over, you knew that Jimin wouldn’t be happy if you and Namjoon were smoking because of him.

“I’m fine,” you declined his offer, opting to lean on the wall next to Namjoon. He put his box back in his pocket before putting his lit cigarette to his lips again and inhaling. His hands were shaking. You pretended not to notice.

“What about you? Are you okay,” Namjoon asked after exhaling the smoke, trying his best to give you a smile. It looked bittersweet.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. You looked up at the blue sky. There was hardly a single cloud. Such beautiful weather for such a sad day. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to mourn.”

You looked back at Namjoon. You could see the broken look in his eyes, like he was afraid to mourn too. But instead of letting out the pain, he masked it with yet another smile. “You’re allowed to mourn, Y/N.”

Namjoon had been the pillar of strength for the group, and standing there outside Jimin’s funeral, he was still trying to be that for you. You watched as he took another drag of his cigarette, seeing the hope in his face that maybe this time, the nicotine would help him relax and calm him down. It didn’t work. He needed someone to be there for him too, someone he could draw strength from.

Slowly, the cigarette burned down and down.

Unsure of what to say, you decided to stand there and silently mourn with Namjoon, the only sounds heard being his shaky inhaling and exhaling. The birds were unusually quiet that day.

Perhaps they were silently mourning for Jimin too.

The brown door in front of you intimidates you. It’s this moment that hitches your breath, standing in front of the door, afraid to touch the doorknob and let yourself in. You take a breath in. Breathe out. One more breath. Two more.

You open the door and step into the room.

Jimin’s room stays untouched, everyone pitching in their help to pay the extra rent for it. It hurts too much to even think about someone else moving into Jimin’s room. Not now. Not ever.

You feel so odd to be here without his permission but you’re also feeling an extreme amount of comfort. The whole room is filled with the traces of your soulmate. It feels like he’s here. Like he’s never left.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting Jimin’s smell calm you down, the stress and anxiety filtering away. Your soulmate bond that’s always desperate to find him, to find the soulmate you lost, feels content when you’re surrounded by everything that was Jimin. Here, in his personal space, you don’t feel empty.

Suddenly, the moon shines through the small gap between the drawn curtains. The light from the moon brings you to open your eyes, and without thinking twice about your actions, your eyes follow the light and land on where it’s pointing to. The handle of the first drawer in Jimin’s bedside table.

Curious, you walk over to the bedside table and open the drawer. The moonlight hits your skin.

There’s nothing but a notebook inside.

You shouldn’t pry, you shouldn’t open the notebook, you shouldn’t read something that isn’t yours. But your curiosity takes over the best of you and before you know it, you’re taking the notebook out of the drawer and opening the cover to the first page. Jimin’s handwriting greets you, a date written on the top right corner of the page – today, two years ago.

Your eyes flick through what’s written on the first page. It appears to be a letter. Written for you.

Wait, what?

It takes a while for you to process that the whole notebook is a series of letters for you. You quickly flick through every page of the notebook, scanning through letters and letters written for you, the words soulmate and I wish I have the courage to tell you, repeating themselves through each letter.

And then, it finally sinks in.

You think back to those times in Jimin’s flat, those shy moments when he’d bring up soulmates. The realisation that there was so much you could’ve had but never did hits you.

Tears fall down your face and drip onto the carpet of Jimin’s room. This time, your tears feel real. It’s no longer just the soulmate bond that’s mourning for Jimin now. It’s finally you, who always thought of Jimin as a friend, who truly valued the moments you spent with him, who was interested in him but never made the next step. It’s your heart mourning for Jimin this time and it hurts more than the lost soulmate bond.

You grip the book against your chest, sitting down on Jimin’s bed and letting yourself sob. Surrounded by the traces of Jimin and the comforting moonlight, you let yourself cry over the loss of your friend.

That night, you cry yourself to sleep in the bed that was once your soulmate’s.

[lancearcherinrippedjeans]

It Started with The Janela Zone

ICBeing The Elite Part 1

Pairings - Adam Page x OFC, Chuck Taylor x OC, Marq Quen x OFC

Catergory - VERY FLUFFY, LOTS OF COMEDY, with the TINIEST TINIEST bits of angst

Warnings/Promises - Lot’s of cussing lmao. Talk of FAKE, I’ll say it again, FAKE death. And talk of anxiety.

Word Count - 4,503

Summary/Desc - Gabby goes live the Joey Janela every week. But when Parker and Bri are with there this time, Joey makes a decision  to invite them to a show. And once they show up, they get two things they didn’t expect, being special guests on BTE, and finding potential love.

There beginning and end with be like “real life” and the middle with be like BTE (Intro and Outro is included)

 (JUST A THING, PARKER, AKA ME, I PUT BOTH BY PRONOUNS IN THIS she/they, SOOOO, JUST A THING)

N e ways,,,,creds to @westanaew​ , it’s not just her first collab its also MINE. We did this together <3

Also, Gabby is gonna be the main character in part one :) 

(happy birthday Hangman)

“I don’t know what you want from me Joey.” She laughed. Gabby and Joey were live for Janela Zone, like they did every weekend. “What do you mean Gabby,” Joey chuckled, “I told you to chug the White Claw or listen to Barbie girl for 1. Hour.” Joey said. This was the normal for them, just two people going live for the entertainment of their fans. Joey Janela was, well Joey Janela. But Gabby was a fan that wanted to go live with her idol, which quickly turned into a friend when the people started liking on their lives.

One day Gabby was with her friends, Parker and Bri, that she met from being wrestling fans. They were together at a hotel, something they didn’t do often since they lived in different states.

“Bitch I know you’re not about to go live with us here!” Parker yelled. It was time for Gabby and Joey’s weekly stream, and she was doing it either way. “I mean I can go get food, I’m kind of hungry anyways.” Bri offered.

“Humans just be normal. It’s only for a few hours.” Gabby tried to explain, but Parker wasn’t having it. “I know you did not just saying a few fucking hours-“ Parker seemed fed up, but Gabby knew she would get over it.

“Guys let’s see if Gabby is in here.” Joey said. Gabby was ready while Parker and Bri sat in the back awkwardly. When Joey added her, he noticed Bri laying on one of the 2 beds in the background. “Who’s that in the background?” Joey questioned. “Oh them? Those are just my friends, Parker and Bri.” Gabby said then looking back at a surprised Parker. “Hi Joey, big fan” Parker stated. Eventually Parker and Bri joined in and the whole group had a lot of fun on live that night, so much fun that Joey would offer them something. “I swear, I got to fly y’all out for All Out next Saturday.” They didn’t think he was serious till Gabby got a dm after they got off of the live with Joey asking if they could actually come. Of course, they accepted and off to All Out they were in 2 weeks.

The Day of All Out

“Look how big it is!” Gabby said, pointing at the titantron, amazed. “That’s what she said.” Parker smirked. “Bitch be wholesome for 5 seconds, geez!” Gabby exclaimed. “I knew y’all would do this.” Bri laughed with her head down.

“Hey! Gabby over here!” Joey said waving towards them. Parker and Gabby waved back. “Omg y’all that’s like actually Joey Janela!” Gabby was excited, but really emotional about it. Before all the lives, Gabby was a huge fan of Joey, and his wrestling helped her through a lot of stuff. She dreamed about meeting him even though they were friends, today was the day her dream would come true. The group made their way towards Joey, Parker and Bri excited while Gabby was in shock it was really happening.

“Hey guys!” Joey said when we made our way over to him. “What’s up Joey, thank you for everything, we really appreciate it.” Gabby said, fighting back tears. She didn’t wanna get all emotional right now so she held it in. ”Sup Joey, nice meeting you” Parker said, trying not to burst out of excitement.

”Hi Joey, great meeting you.” Unlike the other two, Bri hugged Joey, then behind his back winking. Gabby caught this, “Not today Brianna.” Gabby whispered but loud enough Bri got the message.

Bri rolled her eyes at Gabby while letting go of Joey, Parker holding back laughter so Joey wouldn’t know what was happening. “Joey let's get a picture, this’ll be my biggest flex.” Gabby said, pulling out her phone and opening Instagram. All four of them took a group photo then all getting individual photos with Joey. “You guys wanna head to catering? I’m sure you’ll run into someone there.” Joey offered. “Sure why not!” Parker agreed, trying not to sound too nervous. They all headed backstage to the catering area.

“Ok guys, the food is over there against the wall and that’s about it. I’m 100% sure you’ll run into someone over here. I’m gonna head out to find Sonny, so have fun.” Joey said, he really invited them then left.

That’s when the group heard a very familiar voice. “What’s up guys,” He motioned towards one of them, “are you Gabby?” said Nick Jackson, coming over to sit with them. “Yes I am, are you Nick Jackson?” Gabby said in a sarcastic but funny way. Bri sat and smiled while Parker sat there like an idiot, mouth agape, starstruck by the man sitting across from them.

“I like your attitude,” Nick laughed at Gabby’s sarcasm, “and from what I’ve heard you guys are funny, so I’m inviting you on BTE. We needed some extra people this week and you guys seem to fit the spot.” Nick offered.

“Deadass?!” Parker questioned. “I'M DEADASS!” Nick shouted, then breaking a smile. “I’m down.” Bri said. “Yea me too, it’ll be fun.” Gabby said, checking her phone for a notification.

“Okay sounds great! Gabby I think we’ll have you working with Adam, Joey said you guys were pretty similar,” He pointed towards her, and she looked up from her phone surprised from what she was hearing. “Parker, from what I’ve heard? The Best Friends bit sounds perfect for you, and Bri, I think you’ll go best with Private Party.”

“Alright.” “Amazing.” “Sounds good to me.”

“Okay,” He clapped his hands together, “You’ll have a bit of time to pre plan before we start shooting in,” he checked his phone, “About an hour, so, see y’all in a little bit.”

Once Nick walked away Parker and Bri turned towards their friend, “Gabby and Adam sitting in a tree.” Bri sang, wanting to get on her nerves, “Not now, Brianna.” “She is c-h-o-k-i-n-g.” Parker finished, “Parker Lorin Jones!!!!” The three joked before breaking off, finding the groups for their bits on Being The Elite.

Gabby walked around Daily’s Place, until she found Adam, sitting, clearly waiting for something. She took a deep breath before approaching him, “Hi Adam, I’m-” “Gabby, working with me for Being The Elite?” Adam cut in, and she felt her cheeks get hot, “Uh, yeah.”

The blonde nodded, “I’ve watched you on Janela Zone before, you seem pretty chill. Shall we talk about the bit before we start?” He held out his arm for her to hook it. She was nervous at first but she inhaled, then exhaled, and hooked her arm through his, “We shall.”

The Elite

The The Elite

The Elite

The The Elite

The Elite

The The Elite

Superkick PAAARRRR-

“I’m going to use the bathroom, don’t die while I’m gone.” Gabby said while getting up from her seat. “Bitch you know you dying first outta us.” Parker said, gazing over to the side avoiding to make eye connection with Gabby. “Go choke Parker.'' Gabby said, walking away to find the nearest bathroom, that’s when while walking down the hallway she spotted a lonely cowboy sitting at the bar by himself.

It was Adam Page, then she saw an angry Kenny Omega walking out of the bar. “Fuuck.” She saw the cowboy whisper, then taking a drink of his Jack Daniels. Gabby saw a look in his face that she didn’t really see on tv, a more sad than angry look in his eyes. So she took it upon herself to go sit with him at the bar.

“Excuse me can I uh, get 1 whiskey?” Gabby asked the bartender. “You must be Joey’s friend everyone’s been talking about.” Adam said, taking another sip of his drink. “Yup that’s me.” Gabby said, taking a sip of her whiskey. She followed that up with, “You didn’t look like you were doing well and-“ Adam cut Gabby off, “Gabby I don’t know you and you don’t know me so what’s up? If you want a one night ssand you can jusssay that.” Adam said, slurring his words and still drinking. “No it’s not that, I just saw the pain in your face. What happened with Kenny?” She asked, she let the one night stand comment slide since he was obviously drunk. ”Kenny’ssjust being complicated, he doesn’twant me drinking with Cash and Dax. And I know they have their problemssbut that has nothing to do with me.” Adam said, finishing off his drink.

“I feel you, but sometimes you just gotta let people be mad. And put yourself first.” Gabby said, then also finishing off her drink. “Nice talk, wesshould talk more. I like you.” A drunk Adam Page mumbled out, still slurring his words. “Yea I’m down.” Gabby got up, tipped her cup towards Adam and made her way out the bar. Adam tipped his glass right back at her before looking back towards the bartender.

LaTeR iN tHe EpIsOdE

Parker was walking backstage, minding her own business and looking at her phone. “I wonder where Gabby WEN-” Parker was grabbed by her arm and dragged into a room.

Parker held up their fist, when they put them down, “God, what do you guys want?” “Look, you gotta help us,” They looked up at Chuck Taylor, “We’re trying to kill Brandon.” “Excuse me, WHAT?”

Trent put his hands on their shoulders, “He’s been annoying us about a bit for weeks, so we’ve been planning to, y’know, take him out.” Parker sighed, “I don’t know, Orange what do you think?” They all looked towards Orange Cassidy who shrugged and gave them a lazy thumbs up. She looked back towards Chuck and Trent, “God, he’s persuasive.” She looked like she was weighing her options, before she blurted out, “Fine! But I swear to God,” They held up a finger to their faces, “If you even THINK about blaming all this on me, I will kill you guys next.” The pair just nodded their heads and looked towards the door.

Brandon walked in, looking peeved, “Do you guys have a bit?” Trent talked to Brandon while Chuck motioned Parker towards the bat in the corner. She picked it up, making that face you knew said, “Really bitch?” He made the motion of him just swinging the bat. Parker walked behind Brandon, Trent and Chuck made faces and mouthed at her to just do it.

The camera went black and the sound of the bat hitting a surface was heard.

The screen showed all them standing over the man, when they all started screaming, except Orange, who kept his cool. “What do we do what do we do?!?!” Parker yelled, freaking out. Trent looked around, “Uh, put him in the closet!”

Parker shook her head, “No, no being in the closet isn’t fun at all.” Everyone in the room, including the now dead Brandon put on a straight face and looked directly at the camera, “Get it?”

They all went back to their worried, chill and dead faces. Trent, Chuck and Parker all looked around the room when all their eyes fell on a suitcase. They all knew what they had to do, when the screen changed to a different place in a building, showing a different bit.

tImE sKiP

The same group of the Best Friends and Parker walked towards the EVPs office. “You tell them that you killed Brandon.” Chuck said, pointing at Parker. She looked at him, offended, “Listen here you Kentucky born idiot! It was YOUR idea!” “Okay but who hit him with the bat?” Trent added in. “Are you serious right now? I-” They all started arguing, so loud that Matt looked out the door, “Hey, can you guys keep it down?” Parker pushed the men back before pointing at them, “They killed him.”

“What the- killed who?” Trent stepped forward, “Oh please, Parker is the one who hit Brandon over the head. They’re the reason he’s dead.” Matt looked at them all confused, “Brandon is in here, he hit his head or something and we found him stuffed in a suitcase. Are you guys okay?” The three looked at each other before looking into the office, to see Brandon with ice on his head.

Parker shook her head, peeved looked on her face before walking away, “Man what the fu-”

This ain’t water

Private Party and Bri were walking backstage, laughing and joking around when they bumped into Nick Jackson. “Oh, Nick! This is our friend Bri.” Marq said in a happy tone. Bri held up her hand, “Hi, nice to meet you.” Nick looked awkward before shaking her hand. Isiah smacked his lips, “Man why you being rude? We’re just tryna introduce y’all.”

Nick put up his hand, “Look you seem nice and all, but I’m not interested.” “What are- why wouldn’t you hang with all this.” Marq said, motioning towards Brianna. “I don’t need to ‘hang’ with all that.” Isiah rolled his eyes and groaned, “Why you bein difficult?”

“I don’t need Bri. I’m fine.” Nick said, sounding annoyed. “Oh you don’t need Bri, that’s a funny joke. Come on.” “I already said no, I don’t need another girl in my life.” Marq laughed, “It’s not a big deal, just another friend you know?” “I’m not gonna say no again.”

Isiah laughed, “Yeah,” got close to the camera, “he actin like he don’t got other friends.” Bri laughed at Marq and Isiah overreacting when Nick was clearly getting angry, “You think I’m not being serious?” “Nah.” Bri said through her laughter.

“I’m DEADASS.” A loud noise played while the trio flew back, Isiah on the floor, Marq staying still and Bri trying to support herself on the wall.

Marq grabbed Brianna’s arm, “I guess people don’t like making friends nowadays.” They turned to walk away when they bumped into Matt Jackson, the trio shook their heads, scared of what's gonna happen next.

Their fears became a reality when Matt (does whatever he does ?????) and they all flew back again. Bri stomped her foot and turned away, “Man I can’t believe this!”

Join The Dark Order

The friends, talking about their day on BTE, sat at a table in catering, all with different expressions. “Gabby, I still don’t know how YOU ended up being Adam’s drinking buddy.” Bri questioned. Gabby shrugged, “Okay but at least Nick didn’t think that I was about to get set up with him.” The two went back and forth about it before they turned towards Parker, “What did you do today Parker?” Gab asked, curious why her friend was quiet for once.

Parker shuddered, “I don’t wanna talk about it.” “Why? Did-” The girl went silent when Alex Reynolds and John Silver approached, Kool-Aid and water in hand. “Ladies,” Alex motioned towards Bri and Gabby, “Non-Binary friend,” he motioned towards Parker, “how are you doing today?”  Parker and Gabby rolled their eyes and sighed while Bri spoke up, “What do you guys want?”

John clapped his hands once, “Let’s get things straight, we want you three in the Dark Order.”

“No.” “Nope.” “Absolutely not.”

“Just hear us out, hear us out.” “We’re not joining a cult.” Gabby spoke up. She looked towards Bri, who looked tempted to do so. “Bri!” “What? I mean, it’s grape Kool-Aid, right?” Parker slapped their hand against their forehead, “Bri I swear to God if you drink that mess I’m gonna smack the hoe outta you.”

The three started arguing when Alex and John calmed them down. “Look all you have to do,” Alex said, pouring Kool-Aid in the three cups of water, “is drink the Kool-Aid.”

The three friends looked disgusted, “What. The Fuck. Is this?” Gabby said, grabbing the cup and looking into it. Bri shot a glare at the two, “Are you trying to poison us?”

“No! We got Griff Garrison to drink it.” John spoke, trying to get the point across. “Who the hell is Griff Garrison?!” Parker questioned, confused.

Gabby put her hand up to calm down Parker, “Okay okay listen, there ain’t no way we’re joining your stupid cult.” “Cause one, there ain’t no sugar.” Bri said, adding on. “Too much water.” Parker said, attitude in their voice. “And you didn’t even mix it up.” Gabby said, sounding disappointed.

“Wait wait wait!” John and Alex yelled as Parker and Gabby got up and walked away. Bri looked behind her and sighed, grabbing her Kool-Aid anyway and walking with her friends. “Damnit Bri!” Parker said offscreen, throwing the cup back at Alex.

John slapped his hands against the table, “Goddamnit!” “This is why Brodie always throws paper at you!” The men walked off, arguing.

“Hey, did you like that video? Click the screen for more.”

“And where do you think you’re going?

Before you check out our official merchandise page found at prowrestlingtees . com/youngbucks.

And to support the entire cast you can visit prowrestlingtees . com/aew

And thanks so much for Being The Elite.

The Elite The The Elite

What Nick you’re not gonna sing it all with me this time?”

Gabby, Bri and Parker were hanging out in the hallway, laughing about their bits they filmed. It all stopped when Nick came up to them, congratulating them and telling them how great the bits turned out. He also told them that the people they had filmed with invited them out for drinks. They all agreed and got their stuff ready, waiting outside for the Uber the three of them ordered.

“Are you guys excited?” Parker asked, clearly nervous. Gabby nodded, shaking. “Oh you bet I’m excited.” Bri said, that certain tone in her voice. “Bri don’t scare Isiah and Marq off with your flirting.” Gabby said, a bit of a chuckle in her voice. “To be fair, Marq was flirting back earlier.”

Gabby and Parker started teasing Bri, who was already tired of it, when their Uber had pulled up, they pulled their masks over their face and climbed in the car, light conversation the whole way.

When everyone arrived they all broke off into groups, with the people they had filmed BTE with earlier today. “Let me get two Jack Daniels please.” Adam said, already a bit drunk from earlier. Gabby smiled at him, Adam with his hair pulled back and round glasses on was attractive to her. “So tell me about yourself, cowboy.” Gabby said, curious about his answer. “Have you not read my twitter bio? I’m an anxious millennial cowboy. That’s all anyone needs to know.” Adam said, swallowing down his drink faster than earlier.

“Anxious huh? I suffer from anxiety so I’m sure you have an understanding of it.” Gabby said, taking a sip of her drink, but not as big as Adam’s. The two started to talk about their anxiousness and anxiety, then speaking on their mental health issues. They were both drinking heavy and in about 40 minutes were drunk. They were like each other’s therapist in that moment.

That’s when out of nowhere Adam leaned in for a kiss. Gabby didn’t push away from it. Adam made his way to Gabby’s thighs, grabbing them then pulling her in closer. That’s when they both heard a voice, one that as soon as she heard it she knew who it was.

“Hey Gab-E, can I borrow a 20 so I don’t have to use my credit ca-.” Parker looked up from her phone and stopped when she saw the scene in front of her. “Oh my God Park-er what do you want?!” Parker stifled their laughter, “Well, I needed a 20, cause I didn’t want to use my credit card for a tip later, but it’s fine, I’ll uh, go to an ATM.” Gabby groaned and rolled her eyes dramatically, “Adam, this is my friend, Parker.” Adam just waved and Parker returned it, “I’ll uh, just go back to hanging out with Chuck and them.” “Yeah, you do that.” Gabby spat.

Parker turned and walked a few feet when she turned back around, “Oh, and make sure you use a condom.” “God Parker go!” Gabby yelled, and Parker walked away, laughing.

Gabby let out a sigh, “I can’t believe that bitch”. “It’s ok, now where were we again-” Adam said, licking his bottom lip, looking Gabby up and down. “I don’t know if I can continue after that, cowboy.” Gabby shook her head no, letting out a soft smile. “I love your smile, it’s cute.” Adam tilted her head up towards him, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “You know, I don’t know what it is Gabby, but something about you and me just click. And I know we’ve only known each other for less than a whole day but I really like you.” Adam looked down with a smile on his face, blushing at the fact that after one day he’d catch feeling.

“Me too Adam, fuck. It’s nice having someone that understands you and can drink with you. Plus you’re” she stopped herself in the middle of her words to let out a silent sigh. “You’re attractive, and nice, and I feel like this will be more than a one night thing”. Adam signaled his hands for Gabby to come closer, which she did. She sat on his lap, digging her face into his shoulder. “I’m gonna follow you on Instagram, you're more than Joey's friend now.” Adam whispered, hugging her tighter. Gabby laughed the comment off while still in Adam’s hold. She released her head from his shoulder, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Well then cowboy, I’m already hooked to you so there’s no way out.” Gabby smiled. Adam smiled back at her, letting her go out of his hold.

Across the bar sat Parker and the Best Friends, laughing and acting stupid. “I’m serious! I didn’t actually expect you to retweet it James.” They were talking about one of Parker’s tweets, with them in Orange Cassidy cosplay and makeup. “We all thought it looked great, what do you mean?” Trent asked, genuinely curious. Parker took a swig of her drink before answering, it’s just, I try getting noticed by you guys a lot. I literally nicknamed myself ‘Chuck Taylor Thot’.”

Chuck, hearing that, spat out his drink with laughter, “What?!” She hid her face in her hands embarrassed, “It’s not funny.” “Sure, totally not, at all.” James said, stifling his laughter. “You guys wanna go play darts or something?” Trent asked. Parker shook their head, “You guys go ahead, I suck at that stuff.” James and Trent just shrugged and slid out the booth. Parker looked next to her, “You’re not going to play?” Chuck shook his head, “Last time I played darts with them I got one stuck in my foot.”

Parker laughed, imagining all them freaking out about it. “What’s so funny?” She put on a straight face, “Nothing, nothing.” He shrugged it off, “So I’m sure that you know a lot about me, so tell me about you.”

She rolled her eyes at that joke in the beginning before she thought for a second, “Well uh, I’m in my early twenties, I met Gabby and Bri a few years ago and uh, I don’t know what else is that important.” “That’s nice and all but I’ve been around you all day, c’mon, I know you aren’t lame.”

She sighed before really thinking what she could say about herself, “Umm, I’ve been a wrestling fan most of my life, I used to actually hate AEW, then it easily became one of the most important parts of my life and every time I see you wearing a Pacer’s shirt I freak out because you’re repping MY state.” Chuck looked towards Parker, “You’re from Indiana?” She nodded, “You were born in the wrong state.”

“No way, Kentucky for the win, plus Indiana Gentleman just sounds stupid.” “Kentucky Gentleman sounds like a douchebag.”

“Oh shut up!” The two just laughed. When they both stopped they just looked at each other, smiles on their faces. Out of nowhere he started looking closer at them. They started touching around their mouth, “What? Do I have something on my face?” He didn’t answer before he asked a question with an obvious answer, “You have freckles?”

Parker felt her face get hot when she just nodded, “Yeah, I realize they’re not as cute as other people’s but-” “I think they’re adorable.” Parker just sat there, mouth hanging open like an idiot. She shook her head when she realized she was just sitting there, “Um, uh...thank you.”

He just smiled before saying, “You’re really cool Parker. I think I might want to get to know you better.” She couldn’t even say anything and just sat there, smiling. He realized she was too awkward to say anything, so he just wrapped his arm around her shoulder, turning them towards Trent and James, arguing over who’s turn it was. She laid her head on his shoulder, watching the funny scene across from them.

A few tables over were Bri and Private Party, which despite all their energy, was pretty chill. “Okay Bri I see you with them nails.” Marq said, complimenting Bri’s nails which were blue and pink, just like Private Party’s merch. Bri smiled, modelling her hand. Isiah looked over towards the entrance when a girl walked in, he looked towards Bri and Marq, who were nodding for him to go. He jumped up out of the booth and over to the girl who walked in.

Bri and Marq turned towards each other, smiling. “I got a question.” Bri said, nervousness in her voice. He nodded his head, “Do you think I’m too, y’know, flirty?” Marq put his drink down and looked towards Brianna, like she just said something stupid. “Of course not, why you think I’ve been flirting back all day?” Bri smiled at his answer, when they started to move closer to each other, so close that their lips were almost touching, when Bri suddenly stopped and turned away, throwing up all over the floor.

“Oh shit!” Parker yelled, grabbing her jacket and sliding out the booth. She yelled for Gabby and motioned for her. They both ran towards Bri, Gabby grabbed Brianna’s purse and jacket while Parker kept her hair out her face. Parker turned towards Marq, “Sorry, this happens whenever we meet up.” Marq just nodded, “Alright, I’ll text you Bri, feel better.”

Parker turned towards Gabby, “Did you order the-” “It’ll be here in 2 minutes.” They walked towards the exit, they were halfway out the door when Chuck yelled, “Wait Parker I never I got your-” The door shut, “Number.”

Their ride was there quickly, and they climbed in the backseat, starting their ride to their hotel. “Bri I told you to stop drinking so much when you’re in a random place!” Gabby yelled. Bri just shrugged. Parker wanted to lecture Bri as well when she got a notification. The girls looked over at her, “Is it from Chuck?” Gabby asked.

“No...it’s from Nick. He wants us back next week.”

Come back for part 2! Coming out soon!

[kiirokero]

Outro: Love Is Not Over (2)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Nothing, just very cute moments between mom and son.

Word Count: 1.6k

Note: Heyo, if you want to be added to this story's tag list, you can reply to this post or message me!

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next 

Tag List: @kurochan3​ @mrcleanheichou​

      “Yunho! Are you dressed?” I called up the stairs. “Yes! I’m coming!” Yunho called back in an excited voice. It was a wonder how he could be so awake and peppy at 6am. Maybe it was his hybrid genes... Golden retrievers are notorious for being cheerful dogs. 

      I heard Yunho’s rapid steps, and he quickly came skipping into the kitchen, immediately hugging my leg. I set down the butter knife I was using to make his lunch and gave him a full hug, kissing his forehead. 

      “Are you excited for your first day of school?” I asked, picking off some lint that was on his shirt. “Yes! I get to make new friends!” He exclaimed, hopping up and down. It made me chuckle. Even if I was exhausted, he was like a dose of happiness medicine. “I’m glad.” I smiled. 

      I got Yunho his breakfast and finished preparing his lunch. I did a check over all of his things to make sure he had everything he needed. I checked off every box in my head. Pencil case... Notebook... Water bottle... “Eomma!” Yunho called out for me. I walked over to the dining room and saw him sitting in his chair, still eating his breakfast. “What’s up bub?” I asked. “Can you sit with me? Please?” 

     I nodded, walking over and sitting in my seat. Yunho smiled and went back to eating. We sat in comfortable silence while I pet his head. I just admired him for a minute. I don’t know what God blessed me with such a son, but whoever it was, I’m indebted to you for life. 

     Yunho was a calm baby. In the way of, he wasn’t a screamer. I remember Hyejin telling me horror stories about Hajun screaming in the middle of the night, startling both her and Yoongi awake. They worried me when I had Yunho, but he never screamed, maybe once or twice, but he normally kept his volume to a reasonable decibel level. 

     Yes, Yunho was enthusiastic, but he never raised his voice enough to where it was anything but childlike excitement. As a baby, he’d just cry, but he’d cry softly. There wasn’t a right way to describe it. If I was in the kitchen and he was sitting on a blanket in the living room, I would hear him cry, but it wasn’t ear piercing. Maybe it was due to the small house that I could easily hear him... He was just a calm baby. 

     When he was around 3 and 4, he started being very emotive and enthusiastic. At first he’d do it all the time, even when he was supposed to be extra quiet. But after teaching him that there's a time and a place to be expressive, he caught on pretty quickly. 

    That didn’t mean we didn’t have problems though. More than once he’d draw on the walls or walk through the house with his shoes on. Sometimes he was in a foul mood and would throw a fit, but that was rare. There was a time he refused to clean his room, and it hurt my soul to put my foot down, but I was still his mother. 

Point being, Yunho was the sun. A sun that deserved the universe. 

      “Alright bub, are you ready?” I held Yunho’s hand as he stood wide-eyed in front of the school building. Yunho had only been to a small daycare that was also a kindergarten, so this is all new to him. I slowly started walking forward with Yunho walking behind me. It was cute, but I knew he couldn’t hide from school forever. I don’t want to go to jail. 

      The building was dazzling and straight out of a fairytale. Artwork lined the halls and the walls were painted with dragons and princesses, the occasional mermaid here and there. All in all, a very welcoming place. I could see Yunho’s eyes light up as he looked at the walls, and he was slowly walking next to me again. 

    We stopped in front of a room labeled, “Mrs. Hopkin’s First Grade Kingdom!” It made me chuckle. The building seemed to have a theme going on here. We walked in, hand in hand, and if I thought the hallways jumped out of a fairytale, this room jumped out of a Disney movie. 

     It was set up like the ordinary first-grade classroom, but the one wall had a whole mural. There were fairytale decorations hanging from the ceiling. The floor tiles were white with dots of rainbow colors, and they set the desks up in clusters inspired by different fairytale creatures. As in, one table cluster was mermaid-inspired, decorated with scales and a seashell rug underneath. One was dragon-inspired with flame details and a dragon stuffed animal in the middle of the table. A green rug was also underneath the table.

     It made you wonder for a second if you stopped at the wrong school because this seemed expensive and you definitely didn’t have the money to send Yunho to a rich kid's school. Being a writer paid well, but not THAT well. 

     Soon, an old woman walked up to us. She was wearing a floral, floor-length skirt and a white button up. “Hello! I’m Mrs. Hopkin. Welcome!” She smiled, and it was the classic grandmother smile. “Hello! I’m Y/n and this is Yunho.” Yunho waved, still holding my hand. “Lovely to meet you, we’re just about to start!” Mrs. Hopkin exclaimed, so I let Yunho go and ushered him to go play while I went to stand with the rest of the moms and dads. 

     This was a primarily hybrid school since Yunho and I lived in a predominately hybrid community. Meaning, most the parents were also hybrids, but I didn’t care. I hung around hybrids for 2/3rds of my life. Funnily, hanging out with another human would be odd for me. However, that didn’t stop the occasional side glances and looks I would get. 

     I was used to it at this point because I stuck out like a neon sign. It happened everywhere I went. We lived in a pretty sizeable community, meaning I didn’t have to go out of town a lot. At first, it made me insecure, but Hyejin and Yoongi snapped me out of it and told me they weren’t judging me; they were just surprised. I remember Yoongi’s wise words... “Look, dumbo, what the hell are they gonna judge you for? Living? Breathing? I already do that, so no need to worry.”

He got a pretty good punch from Hyejin for that one. 

     Mrs. Hopkin clapped her hands, calling everyone's attention to the front of the class. “Hello everyone! Welcome to first grade!” She exclaimed enthusiastically, “We’ll be going over the rules and then we will say goodbye to our mommies and daddies.” And just like that, she started explaining the basics. It made me think she rehearsed this in a mirror last night. She flowed as if she was running on muscle memory. Or maybe she's been teaching for way too long. 

      It was fairly simple. Keep your hands to yourself, listen to whoever is speaking, raise your hand, yadda yadda... I’ve been to first grade before. After Mrs. Hopkins finished speaking to the parents about expectations and what happens if one of our kids is bad, she let us all say our goodbyes. Yunho ran and jumped on me, burying his face into my chest. 

      He was scenting me, showing me he was nervous. “You’ll be okay, bub. I’ll be here to pick you up before you know it.” I pet his head and his tail started wagging. “I don’t want Eomma to go...” He whined. I swore that my heart exploded. “But you were so excited this morning?” I chuckled. “I take it back.” He grumbled. I cooed and softly put him down, unraveling the scarf I had around my neck. 

      “Here you go. Just for today, okay? You’re a big boy now, Yunnie.” I smiled at his big puppy eyes. Yunho held to scarf to his nose, and I gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, baby.” I whispered. “I love you too, Eomma.” 

      Stepping out of the school, away from my son, was eye opening. Yunho was growing right before my eyes, and before I know it, he’ll be walking out of this school grown. Ready to tackIe the next level of school. It makes me tear up a bit and I feel like a mother in a slice of life film. I chuckle, shaking my head as I get into my car. 

      Just as I’m about to start it up, my phone rings. Hyejin. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask, deciding that I’d drive after this call. “Y/n! Thank god you answered!” She sighed in relief. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” She hums and I can hear ruckus in the background. “Yes... No...? I’m in a predicament.”

     “What?” I chuckle nervously, unsure if I should be worried. “So... Um... I forgot today was the boy’s first day of school, so Hajun is not there...” She cautions. “Okay? He can go tomorrow.” I reason. “He’s with me... And I can’t watch him, I have to go to work.” If I was in The Office, this would be the moment where I would look directly into the camera with a blank stare. 

“Hyejin-”

“I know! You can scold me later... Can you come pick him up? Please~” She begged.

“Yeah, I can... I’m at the school right now.” I grumbled.

“Great! Meet me at the daycare so you don’t have to drive as much. I love you!” 

I sighed, shaking my head. She’s going to be the death of me. 

[multiparadise]

not worth it anymore ✦ g. dolan

summary: being asked to be grayson dolan’s girlfriend wasn’t the easiest because for starters it was going to be a relationship for the camera’s, just a show for the fan’s. and secondly, it already sucked that the guy who made your heart beat like crazy had a hatred towards you and can barely stand being in the same room as you and sometimes the pain is not worth it anymore.

warnings: lots of angst, grayson being a really mean person, and lots of heart break.

cue the hand signal from ethan. the lights were bright, slightly blinding your vision as you intertwined your fingers with the man next to you. a big smile on your face. you looked happy. you knew you did. you knew this would trick whoever was behind the screen watching this video. the man, grayson, smiled down at you and for a second you thought it was real too. just a happy couple. 

“well guys, should i confess the obvious now?” grayson said to the fans while looking in the camera. “you guys were absolutely correct, (your ship name) is real. and i’m sorry we kept it from you, but i hope you guys can see how in love i am with her. and maybe you’ll learn to love her just as much as me.” 

another cue, he pressed his lips to your cheek. you blushed. cleared your throat and spoke the first time during the duration of this video. “i love him so much, grayson dolan you are my everything and i am so thankful for these past 7 months. thank you for making me happy.” 

signal the last cue. the two of you shared a kiss, it was quick but it was enough. it was enough to convince them, but it was enough for you to remember the way they felt. 

then the recording stopped after the outro. ethan told you two that you did great and the chemistry even looked real to him. this caused your heart to flutter as you felt the chemistry was real too. how can someone even deny it? there has to be something there. but you were wrong again. you watched as grayson rolled his eyes, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. a disgusted, disturbed look etched on his face. he let out a harsh laugh before getting out “i swear to god if we have to kiss one more time i’m gonna punch the wall.” 

you didn’t need a cue for this, this was real. a heartbreak in the moment was real. you didn’t need someone to tell you how to act or how to feel because this was reality, this was real. the man you’ve given all your heart to had no clue he owned it and didn’t care about the power he had over it either. 

the three of you went your separate ways after that comment from grayson. you sighed, dragging yourself to the front door leaving their home knowing you’d have to come back in a few days to record another video updating the fans about your wonderful, perfect relationship. 

once you got home you received a text message from ethan apologizing for grayson’s words because to him it wasn’t a secret that you loved grayson. and at times it was a blessing and a curse that he knew. you messaged him back stating that it was okay, it’s always okay (when it’s not) and that he should’t be apologizing but you still appreciated it anyways. 

three days pass by and your social media has been blowing up none stop with comments and edits of you and your ‘boyfriend’ grayson. and due to discussions ahead of times the two of you would repost things from fans, comment hearts, stupid shit like “i love him so much” and “she’s my everything” and even talking about each other in a lovey dovey way on snapchat to make them thing that the distance between you two is so fucking painful. 

it was, at least for you. 

you find yourself at their house later that day, ethan recording a live video. cue this, cue that. you became used to it. the acting was natural for you. and you had to admit that grayson was a damn good actor, or maybe he did have feelings for you. and you were a fool that kept telling yourself that. 

during this live Q&A a fan had asked what was your favorite thing about each other. you smiled, feeling your heart flutter. “my favorite thing about grayson is everything. he’s phenomenal at everything he does. and also i have no complaints that he cooks for me and he builds things for us all the time! maybe he’ll build our future house with a great view we can look over to as we wake up and cuddle in the morning.” grayson smiled too and that was enough to send your heart to beat like crazy. “that sounds fucking awesome, i would love that. and i would even build a crib for a nursery because of course we’re going to have mini us running around.” 

cue the butterflies, cue the genuine smile, and cue the love you have for him. 

the video was coming to an end as you both said goodbye, holding hands glancing over at ethan as he had a big smile on his face thinking that maybe grayson did have feelings for you his (ethan’s) best friend but he was too stubborn and hurt from past shit to admit it. 

the lights die down, the moon was shining in the night sky, a blush etched unto your cheeks grayson rips his hand away. turning to you, “and don’t think we’d ever hook up. got it?” and the venom dripping in his voice was enough to set you straight. 

there was no way he loved you. 

for some reason you stuck around, but it wasn’t for long. it was about a month after the first video announcing your ‘relationship’ when grayson found you sitting on the guest bedroom’s bed with tears streaming down your cheeks painful sobs crawling it’s way out. he hesitated, “are you okay?” and that ticked you off. you stood up, pain in your eyes and grayson could see it. he could see the raw emotion you held and realized this was the first time he actually looked into your (eye color) eyes. they were mesmerizing. 

“shut up!” you yelled at him catching him off guard. “just stop, please i am begging you. stop. don’t act like you care, because you don’t. you know you don’t! so why fucking bother?!” 

“i-” he started but couldn’t get much out as you sobbed once again. “no, grayson. don’t. just fucking don’t. whatever you have to say i don’t care. tell me how terrible it is, how terrible it would be to date me. but guess what grayson we’re not actually together! i don’t see why after every single video you have to remind me of that. to tell me how horrible it is for you to act like your with me, to tell me how bad it would be for anybody. do you know how much that hurts?”

no he didn’t know. 

he didn’t know how much it hurt. 

and he stayed silent as you poured out all your feelings, all your sadness on him. 

“i can’t-” you choked out, “i can’t do this anymore. this pain is not worth it anymore your hatred for me is too much. if you hate me so much then why even fake a relationship with me? is it because you know you’d never fall for me? because if so, congratulations, congratulations to the fact that i’m so horrible. right grayson? wasn’t that what you said after last nights video?” 

he was still silent, but tears welled up in his eyes feeling mad with himself to become such a jerk to someone who was never a jerk to him before. he watches you tug on a suitcase he didn’t notice until know. he felt his heart being tugged, urgently looking around for ethan to give him his lines, a cue, something but ethan wasn’t there because this was reality. 

it wasn’t until you turned around at the front door staring deep into his eyes did he realize how horrible he was and how much he loved you but it was too late as you whispered, throat sore from the screaming, too tired to even show anger with him. just hurt. “you’re the most selfish man i have ever met grayson bailey dolan but i guess i’m the biggest fool i’ve ever met because through all the pain, i loved you. but not anymore.”

and then, you left.

author’s note: hello, thank you for reading this. this is my first imagine here on this account. feedback would be appreciated, both negative and positive. i am here to improve with my writing. i write about the dolan twins and possibly more to come.

[1-800-channie]

Cigarettes & Mint | Chapter 4

→ Chapter: 1  |  2  |  3  | 4 |  5

→ Genre: Very Angst  / Very Suggestive / Highschool!Au

→ Warning: Strong language; cursing; sexual themes; heartbroken; character death (?);

→ Pairing: Badboy!Hyunjin x Innocent!Reader;

→ Summary: When your ego is bigger than your brain, you don’t mind breaking someone’s heart. As soon as the smell of cigarettes and mint invade your nostrils, your heart starts beating faster and your life starts falling apart. I bet you will end up broken.

→ Playlist for the Chapter:

 ↳ Outro Tear - BTS ↳ What I’ve Done - Linkin Park  ↳ Swim - Chase Atlantic ↳ Listen Before I Go - Billie Eilish ↳ Take me Home - Jess Glynn

→ Words: +4K

→ N/A: Hiii everyone! This chapter contains strong language, violence, heavy make out and character death (?) prepare your heart ;)

[Previous] [Next] [Masterlist]

[00:00 AM/  DAY THREE (AND LAST) OF THE BET]

Your eyes are shedding warm and sour tears, your hands are trembling, your legs are stuck and your breathing is heavy. What is wrong with you?

With the last strength in your body you got up of your knees, stumbling over the stairs to get inside the crowded residence, and you ran, praying for not being too late and being able to talk to the man that was always there for you.

Hyunjin was screaming your name but you didn’t bother to care, not when you made your best friend cry. Jinnie’s body was shaking, his heart ached so strongly that he fell on the ground, the tears making his vision get worst.

Everyone inside stared at you like you were some kind of alien, your clothes were dripping small water drops, you were barefoot and even had your makeup stained under your eyes in a dark mess.

You managed to exit the house, finding your best friend sitting on the ground, face hidden in his large hands, and quiet sobs echoing on the empty road that was illuminated by the street lights. Seeing him this hurt made you cry even worst, the pain similar to someone stabbing your poor heart.

He heard your sobs and his head turned around to face you, you didn’t look like yourself. He couldn’t even recognize you…

“Hendery…” You call his name in between cries. “I’m so sorry, i completely forgot it.” You confess walking towards him, reaching your arms out for him, wanting his comforting arms around your frame.

The black-haired man stood up and took steps back, refusing to be close to you. He is too hurt, and its all your fault.

“That’s not why i am hurt, Sun.” His voice cracked. “You left me for him…” He cries, his heart is breaking even more by the memories of you making out with that other man.

You wanted to say something back, but you couldn’t. Your stomach is throbbing like someone is crushing it between its hands. You are shaking all over, your body feels like it’s frozen from how cold it is, your eyes barely open and your legs feel unsteady.  A sudden urge to throw up comes all the way up to your mouth, and so you do, on the beautiful flowers that were decorating the front of the large and noisy house.

Your best friend was disappointed at you, but still, even if his head feels like it’s going to explode, he runs to you and holds your hair while you finish, your throat raw from all the acid you just left out of your opening.

“Hendery, I’m sorry…” You whisper weakly. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head and you pass out on his arms, your body falling unconscious against his.

He screams scared, his hands are uncertain as he pets your hair and he feels anxious, what should he do? He didn’t even bring his car, he walked all the way here…

The people inside the house didn’t care about was happening outside, and they would never let him borrow a car. Their body was being drowned in alcohol so they could forget all the shitty days they had because everyone has their own fights.

Feeling like his heart is being torn apart he manages to put you on his back as he gives you a piggyback all the way to your house, that’s about half an hour away. He doesn’t care if he is going to be sore tomorrow at school, he needs to help you.

His mind gets filled with questions, and he doesn’t have any answers, yet. He studies the possibility of Hyunjin playing with you…Maybe he wants to upset you more… Or maybe his friends are plotting something with him.

The sky was cloudy, just like his mind. Crickets were his only company, singing noisily their melancholic melody, making him feel even more lonely. Suddenly quiet snores were heard, and he felt relief, you are sleeping.

His mind travels to the first days he met you, you were a short, adorable girl that loved rap music and had really deep thoughts for your age, and Changbin was always with you. He remembers how the small man’s laugh was loud and happy when he was with you, but ever since you left him, he turned quiet and moody.

He remembers how you started to hang out more with him and left Binnie behind. Not because you were trying to replace the small boy, but because Hendery was treating you like a princess. That’s how Changbin ended up on the ‘fuckboy club’ that Hyunjin and Minho were the presidents of.

Hendery didn’t mean to separate them, you were just a cute girl he had a crush on, and due to him not having friends, because he just moved to Korea, made you get closer to him.

A powerful bark scared him, making him take some steps back, and hold your legs tighter around him. The last thing he wanted was to run away from a canine with you passed out on his back. But for his luck, the dog was just being a creep and barking at him from the inside of the house.

Your best friend signed.

Would Changbin want revenge after all this time? Nah, that’s stupid. He would have done it by himself… Hyunjin never fought with Hendery, they barely spoke to each other, so he shouldn’t be worried about him… but that’s why something is missing.

When he arrived at your modest house, he searched for the safe key that is hidden between the yellow and blue flowers on the pot that’s resting on the floor, and he opened the door, not caring about the noise he would eventually do.

Your dad is a cop, and he works at night, so he isn’t home now. Hendery experiencedly crossed the long hallway covered with pictures of you, all the way to your bedroom. He laid you down carefully on the comfortable bed. You seemed to be sleeping, your breathing calm and steady.

Grabbing the makeup wipes from your clean bathroom, he cleaned the memories of the hard night of your eyes, careful not to wake you up.

He also got your pijama and helped you get rid of your wet clothes. Hendery’s cold and slender fingers took your t-shirt off, surprised to see that you were wearing no bra underneath.

His eyes met your soft breast, and with his cheeks painted in an adorable shade of red, he admired them for a second. Realizing it was wrong to stare at your naked body when you are resting he quickly overcame to the urge to admire you and helped you dress the rest of your dry clothes.

You looked peaceful, little snores escaping your nose, your chest moving up and down steadily and your lips in a pout, holding your Koya teddy between your arms for dear life.

Its time for him to move on with his life, this chapter of his book needs to be completed. He can’t keep waiting for something he can’t have. His heart told him to reject the offer, in hopes you would choose him and make him yours, but it’s clear that you only see him as a friend. It’s difficult for him to accept it, but its the truth.

His lovely fingers quiver as he starts to write you a letter, a letter where he confesses what the feels for you, where he tells you that he doesn’t hate you for not loving him back because we don’t choose who we will fall in. How sweet of him?

It was late, the clock on your desk marked 2 am in red numbers, his head was thumping and he needed to rest. He needed to get the energy to find out what those three assholes were plotting against you. On his way out of your room, Hendery’s digits slowly graze over the little plushie you have on your study table.

He gave you this teddy on your 17th birthday, you were so happy, and it made him happy. The broken-hearted boy picked up the plushie and he inhaled it, your rosy perfume invaded his nostrils and he smiled.

Writing a quick ‘ps’ on the note, he holds the teddy in his hands, declaring he is sorry for stealing your favorite toy, but explaining that he needed to keep happy memories of you, even if you broke his heart.

Hendery took a last look at your frame curled on the bed, illuminated by the blue glow of the moon that was escaping from your window. He smiled once again, you will always be his love.

His moves were sad, his heart was permanently hurt and we didn’t want to go but he had to. Before it was too late.  The drops started to roll down his cheeks again as he walked out of your house.

Hendery will miss your voice, your essence, your laughter, the charming notes you left him every day with cute drawings and sweet words to remind him of homework or just to show him you liked him a lot, he kept every single one of them.

He loved you, that’s for sure.

[11:00 AM/  DAY THREE (AND LAST) OF THE BET]

The bad smell of your breath waked you up. Your eyes wanted to keep being closed so as soon as you opened them the bright light of the sun made you yell in pain, your head burns. You got out of bed, with shaky legs, warm feet coming in contact with the cold floor, and walked to your bathroom.

You looked normal. Your lazy eyes traveled all around your figure on the clean mirror; you had a mark on your neck, then other on your collar bones. That simple marks triggered your brain and you recognized how you and Hyunjin were making out on the pool.

You laughed at yourself, a shy blush taking over your fat cheeks… But then… Wicked memories of Hendery showed up in front of your eyes, like a tragic movie and your eyes got filled with tears.

Wait, how did you even get home? How did you end up with your pijama on?

You walked back to bed and were surprised to see your phone there, with a small green note from your dad: ‘it’s finally fixed, my dear. Dont get late to school, i love you, dad.’

Oh, wait… Its Thursday and you are home? You glanced nervously to your phone and checked the time, it passed the 11 am. Fuck, you overslept!

Quickly you typed a text to Hendery while sitting on the edge of the bed, asking if something was up, and what happened yesterday because everything was a blurred mess in your mind.

He explained everything, how he caught you making out with the smoker, to the big fight and the throwing up incident. He confessed he brought you home and he took care of you, making you sign relived.

You trust him.

After five minutes of debating if you should or not stay home, you end up staying and being your dad’s company. He gave you a lengthy and boring speech of how irresponsible you were, and you nodded every time, too busy with the images of Hyunjin touching your body to care.

The visions of his cold fingertips touching your body in the right ways, making you see stars in just a slip of seconds made your virgin body shiver in arousal. He knew your body so well, even though it was the first time he was touching you that intimate.

You were snoozing on the couch when loud ringing music was heard from the kitchen, and right after quick steps were audible inside the place. Your caring dad comes close to your sleepy frame and tells you:

“Baby, they finally caught the man that was robbing people in the supermarket after all this time, and they need more backup for the safety of the people that are inside the building… Please stay home, I’ll be out for a few hours. If you need anything call Hendery, he will take care of you, ok?” You nodded, too tired to worry and he kissed your forehead, walking out some minutes after, leaving you home alone.

When you were almost falling asleep again the bell rings, scaring you. You open your eyes, looking around and examining the windows in fear. Quietly and carefully you wander towards the entrance, only to see Hyunjin’s face on the peephole.

You open it, observing the brown haired boy smile at you in a different way than usual, making your heart melt. He had a plastic bag on his hand.

“Sun, are you home alone?” He asks walking inside your house, more worried than curious.

“My dad just left because of work…” You answer yawning. “Is everything alright? Why are you here?” You ask taking a careful look at the handsome man in front of you.

“I know yesterday wasn’t really good, and i figured out that maybe you needed some help, so i bought you the hungover soup and ice cream.” You look at him with surprised eyes.

“Why?” You simply ask, walking towards him.  Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You didn’t come to school… I knew you were hungover and needed some help from someone that has been in the same situation as you.” You rest your head on his shoulder, your nose brushing his neck as the normal scent of cigarettes and mint filled your nostrils. So familiar yet so cruel.

The truth is the images of you crying on your knees made his brain bring back all the images of his Mom screaming for his dad to come back. He started crying, the pain taking over him in a merciless way. He felt horrible for what he is doing to you, he has a reputation to keep.

If he doesn’t get attached to you, it won’t hurt him or you, so he can leave when he wants. He didn’t want to be like his dad…

“Lets get to the sofa and there i can eat  the soup you bought me.” You inform him, getting out of his firm arms.

You eat the heaven-sent remedy silently feeling your headache calm down and your body coming back to his normal state. After finishing, you and Hyumjin ended up cuddling on the comfortable sofa while watching Spiderman.

The atmosphere around you was relaxed, almost like he is your home, where you feel secure and guarded. Even if it is just for a moment, you are pleased to be his.

His legs were tangled with yours, his arm resting on your waist and his breathing hitting the back of your neck. But he didn’t care about the movie, not when you were wearing those short shorts, and a simple shirt, making his breath inch… His veiny hand traveled up on your sides, and he started to tickle you, fingers smoothly taking over your fragile frame.

His experienced digits rubbing the right stop under your arms, making your body move around and a loud laughs escape your red-ish lips, while you tried to get rid of his sneaky hands.

A certain spot made your body jump and you ended up falling on the ground, hitting your head, Hyunjin immediately stopped laughing.

“Outch…” You moaned in pain.“ This one hurts like hell.” You say in a whimper, trying not to cry.

The big man began to get worried. He immediately hovered you, his big frame almost hiding your body under his, and your only reaction was to blush, forgetting the sharp pain. He stared at your face, your full lips, your brown eyes, your squishy cheeks, your soft hair. His thumb caressed your cheek and he smiled, you are so beautiful.

How could he even think of hurting you?

His body felt drunk. His brain was melted, his heart beating fast, his stomach felt turned upside down and his eyes were full with love.

He kissed you. His tender lips molding against yours perfectly, almost like they were made to each other. His tongue licked your bottom lip and you opened it, letting him slip inside, exploring your mouth with care as your hips started to move upwards, pressing against his.

He moaned, the hottest sound you have ever listened to and your whole body seemed like bring turned on like a simple light switch.

You bite his bottom lip right beside his sexy lip ring, smiling after. The rationable Hyunjin disappeared, the hot desire took over his body and he couldn’t take it anymore.

He needed you, right now.

He kissed you again hungrily, holding your face so wouldn’t run from him. He tapped the inside of your right thigh and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. With your body tangled with his, he sat down on the floor, his back against the sofa.

Hyunjin swore your strawberry lip balm was addicting and he wanted to taste you more and more every time.

Quickly the temperature raised all the way up, making both of the teens feel hot and all bothered from head to toe.

As your lips parted once again you lifted your head, letting him have access to your already marked neck, while your hands were gripping his soft hair. He was starved, his teeth biting and sucking your neck, leaving noticeable clues that he was there. When he licked the spot under your ear you moaned as your hips pressed harder against his, drawing a groan from him.

“Hyunjin…” You moaned pulling his mouth away from your sensitive neck. “Kiss me, please.”

“As you wish, Princess.” He smirks, your lips being shut up by his once again.

But it wasn’t enough of him, he needed more. His cold fingertips pulled your plain shirt over your head, surprised but not disappointed to find your chest nude for him, right in front of his hungry eyes.

You closed your soul windows, too embarrassed to look at him in the face, but he wasn’t having any of it and he curiously pulled your nipple with his fingers, watching your body shake from the stimulation.

“So responsive… so beautiful… You’re so perfect to me, princess…” He whispered before his lips came in contact with your nipple, licking it and flicking it as he knows you like, making you throw your head back and start grinding harder against him, feeling his own arousal in contact with yours.

As his mouth was busy taking over your attractive boobs, his hands gripped your ass. Oh man, he loves your ass, and he can’t wait to have you only for him: feel you cum around him, feel your body shake because of him, hear your whiny moans and make you, his.

A loud banging on the door scared both of you, and you tried to push his head away from your abused nipples but he didn’t let go, he craved you and didn’t want to stop just yet.

“Ignore it, princess. They will go away…” He moaned softly as his fingers dived now, inside your thick thighs, gripping them.

“HYUNJIN I KNOW YOU ARE INSIDE WITH SUN, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR OR ILL FUCKING BREAK IT SOMEHOW!” That voice, you know that voice… It’s Hendery.

You quickly get away from his addicting touches and search for your shirt, pulling it over your body again, as you ran to the door.

You couldn’t understand why but your hands started to shake as you turned the door handle, anxiety took over your body.

As you opened it a body was pushed inside,  falling on his knees, bloody hands and nose marking your floor, making you gasp.

“What the fu-” Hyunjin started confused, but didn’t finish because your best friend’s fist was hitting his face.

You took a look at the boy on the ground, Changbin was crying.

“Hendery, what is happening?” You ask, your breathing heavy and tears peaking at your eyes already.

“IF YOU WANTED TO HURT ME, YOU DIDNT NEED TO COME CLOSER TO HER YOU WEAK PIECE OF SHIT!” Hendery yelled once again, his fits didn’t see to stop hitting Hyunjins face.

You didn’t know your sweet best friend could turn to such a beast when he was mad, and that made you wonder that maybe, you didn’t know him that well.

“STOP HENDERY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Your body was trembling, your vision blurry, but you found a way and faced him. Getting between your best friend and your loved one, trying to protect both of them.

“ASK THIS LUNATIC WHAT HE WAS DONG! WHY ARE YOU PROTECTING HIM! HE WAS PLAYING YOU, KIM SUN! HE WAS USING YOU. ASK HIM!” Hendery yells close to your lips, and with salty tears, you turn around and face Hyunjin, his lip was bleeding, staining his lip ring and t-shirt.

“Jinnie…” You sob.

“DONT CALL ME THAT! IT WAS MY FAULT OK? I WAS USING YOU, HE IS TELLING THE TRUTH.” Hyunjin confesses angrily, avoiding your hurtfull gaze.

“It was the three of us… Minho wanted revenge for Hendery stealing the girl he wanted, so he asked Hyunjin to fuck you and then leave you, so Hendery would feel bad… He knows the feelings he has for you, and this was the only way he found to hurt him.” Changbin confesses yelling, his tears getting mixed with the blood that was dry under his nose.

You felt like dying, your heart was beating too fast and you fell on the floor on your knees, facing Hyunjin.

“So you were acting all this time…” You whisper to Hyunjin, his face was also bloody, nose and mouth dripping thick drops of blood because of Hendery. “You wanted to fuck me? And that is it? You were planning to leave after you TOOK MY VIRGINITY, HYUNJIN?” You sippled angrily.

“YES! I WOULD LEAVE YOU ALONE CRYING SO I DIDNT HAVE TO SEE YOUR FACE EVER AGAIN!” He yelled with his lungs filled with air. “I WOULD LEAVE YOU SO I WOULDNT CATCH FEELING FOR YOU, OK? FUCK, SUNNY, I AM IN FUCKING LOVE WITH YOU. AFTER THE FIRST DAY OF THE BET I WANTED TO QUIT, I WANTED TO STOP IT AND NOT TALK TO YOU AGAIN BECAUSE YOUR SMILE WAS STUCK IN MY MIND AND I COULDN’T SLEEP BECAUSE OF YOU!” Hyunjin yelled with his eyes closed, the tears flowing down his eyes.

Its the truth, he fell for you. He fell for you in the most hurtful way, and he hates to feel attached to someone, even though he knew, you could take care of him and help him face his fears with you by his side.

“Hendery, how did you find this out?” You ask, getting closer to him, your fingers were almost touching his face when he pulled away from you, too broken to close to you.

“Changbin confessed everything..” His voice was visibly hurt. “Then i went to Minho’s house and beat him.”

You screamed in horror, he didn’t have to do this… This is all your fault…

“I broke his jaw, and he broke my nose.” Hendery narrates to you, his nose still bleeding nonstop. The feeling of guilt turning you blind.

There was silence for a whole minute. Changbin was quietly sobbing, his leg was aching so much that he is afraid that is broken. Hendery has his head thrown back, trying to stop the dark blood from falling from his nose. Hyunjin was on his knees, all curled up, face hidden in his bruised hands.

“This is-” You start, feeling your brain decline. “So, the four of you are hurt.” You whisper. “And its all because of me…” Your voice breaks, and you get up, your legs almost giving up.

“Where are you going?” Changbin asks, trying to get up to stop you from doing something stupid, but his leg ached and he fell on the floor in pain.

With shaky fingers, you opened your dad’s drawers, knowing exactly what you are looking for. Your sobs were loud, louder than Hyunjin’s heart, that was just a step away from exploding in guilt.

“It’s not your fault… Please calm down…” Hendery warns you.

“If i didn’t exist any of you would be hurt… Changbin, I’m sorry for  leaving you behind.” You recognize your actions, crying. You finally found the drawer, and with shaking fingers, you grabbed your dad’s gun. “I’m sorry for not loving you back Hendery, i wish i could, so you wouldn’t have dated Minho’s love and he wouldn’t want revenge.” You describe to Hendery, the gun resting against the side of your head. “Hyunjin, I’m sorry for being a creeper, you just… Seemed so lonely and hurt, i wanted to be there for you. I’m sorry for making you fall for me.” You confess the tears didn’t seem to stop flowing down your orbs, making your head hurt.

All the three boys had their eyes on you, even if they wanted to stop you they couldn’t. They were to shock to move.

“DO SOMETHING GUYS SHE IS GOING TO KILL HERSELF IN FRONT OF OUR EYES,” Changbin yells in pain, the salty tears fastly falling from his eyes, scared.

Hyunjin gets up, his legs failing him, and at the moment you were going to press the trigger your dad gets home.  He barely had time to look around and understand what was happening. But it takes him only one second to stare at the three boys, bleeding and crying, and then at you with his gun against your head, about to end your life. He runs after you, pushes Hyunjin away from you, and takes the gun away from your hands as you fall unconscious on his arms.

All this pressure made your heart stop beating and body faint. As your dad holds you unconscious in his arms, he hopes that you didn’t die because you were the only thing he had…

[Previous] [Next] [Masterlist]

[spicykoreantatertots]

Master List

last update: april 21, 2021

please feel free to send requests to my ask box!

join my tag list

<much more to come>

other master lists:

not warriors (soulmate series)

bulletproof bingo (drabble series)

Works In Progress

we need to talk

reader x seokjin (angst/fluff)

two part soulmate au - estimated 10k words

untitled drabble

reader x boyfriend!seokjin (angst/fluff)

TW: themes of depression

Completed Works

love me or not

reader x yoongi (ft. taehyung) (angst/smut) (non-idol au)

one shot - 8k words

TW: this is real angsty y’all

part of the Outro: Tear The Angst Now Told collab

pinewood and poetry

reader x yoongi (angst/fluff/smut) (college au)

one shot - 14.4k words

part of the 25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Anthology

character ask game - ask my characters a question

the keeper of the light and the keeper of the night 

yoongi x hoseok (fluff) (creation au)

drabble - 500 words

based on this fan art

home for the holidays

reader x yoongi (fluff) (tiny mention of implied smut) (established relationship au)

drabble - 625 words

created for a christmas gift exchange

Works in Progress

roadtrip

reader x yoongi (angst/fluff) (ft bts and two oc)

series introduction - part one - part two - part three

planning at least twelve parts

11:11

reader x yoongi (angst/fluff)

two part soulmate au - estimated 10k words

Completed Works

the keeper of the light and the keeper of the night

yoongi x hoseok (fluff) (creation au)

based on this fan art

Works In Progress

peach (lobotomy)

reader x hoseok (fluff/angst/maybe smut)

two part soulmate au - estimated 10k words total

read part one here

soulmate au, f2l

i’ll eventually post a nsfw one shot

part of the Luv Library collab!

Works In Progress

sleep alone

reader x namjoon (angst/fluff)

two part soulmate au - estimated 10k words

Works In Progress

crybaby

reader x jimin (angst/fluff)

two part soulmate au - estimated 10k words

untitled one shot

reader x chemical engineer!jimin (angst/fluff/smut)

one shot - estimated 7k

Completed Works

another rainy day

taehyung x reader (ft. yoongi and jungkook) (fluff)

one shot - 1187 words + moodboard

part of btswritercollective’s Secret Santa 2019

Works In Progress

lucky people

reader x taehyung (angst/fluff)

two part soulmate au - estimated 10k words

untitled series

reader x ghost!taehyung (angst/fluff/smut)

Completed Works

with love, from j

jungkook x reader (fluff)

one shot - 3.3k

part of magicshopnet’s Bouquet Days 2020

holiday hideaway

jungkook x reader (fluff, implied smut)

drabble - 628 words + moodboard

part of btswritercollective’s Secret Santa 2019

warmth

jungkook x reader (fluff, smut)

drabble - 900 words

gift for Secret Santa 2020

Works In Progress

rare

reader x jungkook (angst/fluff)

two part soulmate au - estimated 10k words

<3

[carndriverrecords]

First Blog Post 3/20/20

Started CnD Records today. Feels Good.

Working on some diss tracks. Not sure if they see it coming - doesn’t matter either way.

Planning to release Car and Driver first real record this Friday 3/20/20. Driving Test Driver Fest 1. 

Self release first record - another 20 tracks next week. Compile top 10 - 15 for first release with other label - thinking Terrible, Kranky, blu ish label or Thrill Jockey. Citrus City a no-go for now. Maybe just keep building CnD records.

Be the middle man - take advantage of opportunities without sacrificing my bands’ (and those I represent) integrity.

Reach sleep destroyer.

Last night at Ted’s - great DJ set. Kidz bop remixes, Fancy. Crowd hated it. Ted disappointed we had to leave but it’s ok with everyone. Tall guy took aux right out of computer, have video. Started dancing - cucked everyone. Everyone thinks they’re the crazy charismatic guy. Am I actually? I think so. Syd thinks so. 

CnD Fest 2 , 3 , 4 at Purchase and beyond. Would like to play apartments, Scully’s den in BK (reach out) and Philly, DC etc.

Next voice memo album - 20 - 25 tracks right now. Better than the first. Danny said best album ever.

Working on “My oh Maia Reason Why” video - my favorite video I’ve ever seen. Getting good feedback.

Important to collab with certain SUNY people before I go:

Members of Lip Critic, Dawson, Neal, Gabe.

Send stuff back and forth with Joseph Kress. 

Need to write song about not sharing a stage w unstable Car and Driver - cost me 2 gigs. Ok because I had the police interaction that night. 

Things have been working out quite well. Syd is keeping me in check. Main priorities are keep the energy going while I can and make sure everyone around me is comfortable with me doing my thing, specifically mom, sofia.

Going to Only Angels tomorrow to collab with Alex.

Tues/Wed in RI with Zach Gorton. Need to see Nick Holcomb, Sofia, Will Orchard if he’s around. Riley in Boston? Would love to. 

Visit Dad soon on the way to Richmond, in a few weeks perhaps. Grandma Roberta etc. They have a BBQ place now - I bet it’s great. 

Follow up in the morning (3 hours from now) with wedding band, Kevin Daniels, drummer etc.

Film sunrise sessions at Purchase: My Ride’s Here, Splendid Isolation, Keep me in your heart, Studebaker, Cat’s in the Cradle, Everybody that you know. Don’t think twice, Boots of Spanish Leather, Someday my Prince, Teenage Dirtbag, Arthur (Woof Woof), Forget You, Signed Sealed Delivered, Superstition, The Promise, Hold me now (TT), Love on Top, Townes Van Zandt, 1-800 superstar, Evan Wright, Tom Petty, Blinded By the Light, Searching for a Heart, Mag Field’s, Barenaked Ladies, TMBG, Dolly Parton one sided love, Byrds, Beatles, Kinks, Stones, Parquet Courts, T Swift (Red, Way I loved you), Mitski, Sasami, Anything Could Happen, Beach House, He Needs Me, These Days, YLT, Beach Boys, Big Star Take Care, G500/Luna, Felt, Psychic TV, Shelia, BJM, Yellow Sarong, Over and Over, Hazel St, Heatherwood, Helicopter, He Would’ve Laughted, I wanna be your lover, The pump, Good enough (sleep destroyer), Them airs, BH (14, indian summer), help me scrape mucus off my brain), Beach Comber, DO YOUR THING, Icehead, Bobby, 1000 times, WIll Orchard, Bon Iver, MGMT, Tame impala, Instant Crush, etc. Art Vandelay, Quick Canal, Stereolab, Grouper, Broadcast, Animal Collective, Panda Bear, Bachelor Kisses, Cranberries, Cure, Pastels, MBV, I found a reason, pale blue eyes, Deerhoof, Gretel Alex G, Dancing w tears in my eyes, Elvis Costello, No age(things i did), Are ya ok, Maus, Ariel, R Stevie, Aphex Twin, Zomes, Vampire Weekend etc.

Bring Laptop for Beats on some and lyrics for all. 

Love life more than ever before. Music feels so good. Want to help, make amends, everything that moondog did. Don’t be homeless much longer.

Not sure if I like throbbing gristle - definitely like Psychic TV.

How savage should diss tracks be? Very? Match the severity of the person’s treatment of me/others. Aka - pretty bad for all except for Auto.

Listened to new Kanye today - 10x better and more influential than death grips. 

Realized today that i’ve spent my whole life wishing I was Kanye and now I am Kanye. Feels very good.

Everyone is gifted but internet makes us angst. 

I am mostly Camus right now - maybe more Kierkegaard soon. Religion and Terrence Malik. Still need to read books.

Order of Books: The graduate Portrait of the artist Consider Lobster Infinite Jest Pynchon Ulysses (At recommendation of American gamer association)

Syd is incredibly gifted. Want to help her feel comfortable doing art/work here in the chaos but also sort out the chaos for both of ours’ sake. I thrive in it, she tolerates well. Want to move to Riverdale still, maybe East Williamsburg with Backpack Chris. We’ll see about money. Philly perhaps, little too far. Jersey is good location but bad commute. Bad to RI. 

Visit RI and Boston Tues - Thurs. Sell Cigarettes at Concerts. Feels right.

Keep smoking for now - quit end of summer perhaps. 

Don’t have Corona Virus - glad we are not quarantined. Still be smart. Don’t expose mom regardless. Protect at ALL costs. 

Really though, why does Journee hate me? Write new track (Journee into forever nevermore not now not ever (Lou)) or Journee into SJW self righteous moral posturing (way too savage - maybe voice memo outro)

AR Kane album is incredible. Syd loves too. Sample everything.

Crazy - sound better at jazz than ever in my life. Exploring harmony - never practice. Teach free lessons all the time. Love the diminished scale. Might be best jazz guitarist to ever live. Time will tell. Would be cool long term. Prefer singing. 

Getting good at piano too.

I’m my favorite lyricist/comedian/actor.

Is maia right, acting isn’t hard? Weird they can’t act.

^Remember to delete^

Don’t share this on Facebook yet.

Why does Journee hate me so much? Just the Louis CK joke?

People who stay home and do nothing hate to see irreverent people doing things.

People like when you’re losing - don’t like to see you win.

^That makes me sound crazy.

F00D outsider might make me famous first.

Need to keep up with legal situation.

Hope mom and dad both live long. Call Syd, get something nice for everyone in family. Get weird jewel cases. Order jewelry from etsy. Post merch on bandcamp.

Finish album art soon. Music videos. Get better at animation etc. Pay Ben for his poster. Actually really good. Maybe album art? Duo album! Record in Wisconsin, release under his name. WIll success be good for Ben? I think so. Still can’t believe Liv told him I wasn’t ok. Wow - good content for lyrics. You truly cannot write this.

How will people react to diss tracks? Extremely negatively. Or no reaction. We shall see. Maybe no real names in the titles...... only on Oh my. 4 names in titles is too many. Don’t release Auto track. Maybe on Voice Memos. 

Track List: Good God Bed Head Rosa Reprise Oh My House Pop 1 skydive Pop 2 APhex GVO Pay 4 Take some Cherish Stars in F Are ya ok too bright Honeys Get to work Everybody That You Know Frost Bit BPC NYC New Age Heimet Helmet Deadbeat dads watermill for slitting bars romantic song david byrne Cinema study in cinema Brain ego Cherry doc marten Can’t liv w/o Venmo groceries Oh you like? Dancin DJ blues We are the State Farm robots Danny dorito is a dirty devito My funny valentine Zoomer blues The thing abt genres Blss Like minds ft dawson Lil toucha jazz Introducing car and driver The holy moment empire Ethics 101 - gma in the street Otto is sad I don’t know what it means! Operatic mellismatic Car and driver fest will be a success! Car and driver fest was a bust again! Cipha’s comedy corner Ryder Be gone evil atonal spirits!

Unreleased mental breakdown compilation ep:

I like all music! I’m a stupid pos Electric micro bike Get off your phone! John frusc Nice song Lap steel for 2 My masseuse advice Bed head wash sq Punchie John Maus yoyo interview Diminished  kinda thing

Build the NYC scene, w Blu ish, Evan, 1 800, sweet joseph, Comics Club, Dawson, Sloppy Jane, Wheatus,

See Jack Fortin in NYC soon. Either my event or his. 

Things are still good. Syd will be a great filmmaker. WIll maybe will end up with a dancer or a filmmaker - Probably not a musician. WIll have many loves. 

Things are good right now - hope they stay that way. 

Feel like Ezra Keonig - hopefully someone reads this one day and agrees. Different time in history and the internet - hope this is less cringe than Ezra’s blog , probably not. Ezra, if you’re reading this, sorry. See ya at Bernie’s rally.