#besides even beyond this past weekend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

holy-puckslibrary · 5 months

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━ 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗

pairing(s) — camboy!MITCH MARNER x camgirl!reader word count — 3k

note — uh so yeah <3

recommended viewing — heathers (1988) and VHS (2012) recommended reading — 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐎 and 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖𝐒

bingo squares and additional content warnings under the cut.

bingo squares — home movie, exhibitionism, group sex, risky location, and (pseudo) group sex additional content warnings — cameos...bc cameo lol, public sex (a literal audience), unprotected boinking + creampie, some reach-around finger-bang action, unprotected coitus + cum play bc mitchy is nasty, praise kink influencer!mitch — "content, baby, content!" (name that vlogger lol), brief past phone sex (kinda? idk you'll see), discussion of sex work and the selling of items

MITCH MARNER IS BEYOND ANTSY.

He wants to leave, and has since you arrived. You wouldn't be hard-pressed to assume enduring the company of his teammates was physically painful with how he's been behaving.

You have an inkling as to why, and you know your hands aren't exactly clean in that respect, but it's his lack of time management that should bear the brunt of his ire, not you.

You left more than enough time for him to get his dick wet.

Brooding like a hormonal teenager, he haunts the far corner of the room, glaring at you over the rim of a glass you know he hasn't touched all night. Morgan's in his ear, but anyone can tell he isn't listening just by looking at his pinched expression and hard, detached gaze; Mitch's been too busy glowering to allow even a little fun to bypass his sour mood.

Which is precisely why you're ignoring him. Instead, finding conversation in Matt, who's in town for the weekend.

The more Mitch pouts, the more you tease—he should know that by now.

You're halfway to the kitchen for a refill when your boyfriend finally corners you. One second you're walking down a deserted hallway, and the next you're trapped between the wall and Mitch's heaving chest.

His eyes have gone a deep shade of navy, and that's all you need to see to know you've fucked up.

If there's one thing Mitch hates, it's being denied attention. Namely, yours.

"I'd say it's time to call it a night, wouldn't you?" he growls lowly into your mouth.

You’re more marionette than person at this moment, bobbing your head along with his every whim, wholly transfixed and with no real thoughts of your own. It's dizzying how much power he can exert without doing much at all. He could get you to agree to anything.

Never in your life has submission felt this innate or this safe.

And it isn’t often Mitch gets like this. Usually, only after he’s been away for a while or you haven’t had much alone time; tonight both are at play.

Hunger rolls off of him in giddy waves. Breakers that don’t spill or curl; the energy piles up until it has nothing left to do besides compress together. Albeit, far too late to be elegant or uniform. The tempestuous emotion hurtles rapidly to your shore, slamming into you without care or warning. Hypnotic is a word he suits best in this state.

Someone fakes a cough a few paces away. Your heads snap in the direction you came, only to find three figures idling in the entryway.

Mitch grinds his teeth. "Can we help you?"

"No need to cut the evening short, Mitchell," Auston teases through a shit-eating grin, undeterred by his friend's burgeoning tantrum. Mitch doesn't answer, so Auston presses on, "What? My guest bedroom not good for a movie star such as yourself?"

"What, you three what some kind of live demonstration? Fancy yourselves an in-studio audience?" Mitch snorts too quickly and the realization hits just as fast. "You can't be serious."

Had he taken a moment to think about anything besides his raging hard-on, he might've noticed the way your thighs squeezed together at the thought of putting on a show. Or, heard the little whimper you couldn't catch before it got loose.

It's an idea you have been toying with lately, having been a mutual fantasy for some time now, and this is as good an opportunity as any.

Better than most, actually, if you take into account the added risk that comes with bringing your romantic relationship out of the shadows. With more eyes on you as you than ever, Mitch isn't the only one who needs to proceed with caution anymore.

These are people you know and trust, and who are already privy to your unconventional side hustle.

Willy shrugs. "It's not like it'd be the first time we were there while you two were going at it."

Physically, it would be but virtually? Denial would be an outright lie.

Your boyfriend is to blame for that bit of ammunition.

"Jesus, fuck, Mitch! Are you playing with your eyes closed or something? Because it sure as fuck looks like it."

"It's not my fucking fault, alright? Can't fuckin' concentrate with all her whining and shit," he spat back into the mic.

The intensity of his defense made him thrust his hips, accidentially jostling you in his lap, which just made you whimper louder.

He didn't spare you a second glance.

The lewd squeak was poorly muffled by his neck and, as much as Mitch loved to bitch about how distracting your sounds were, this was exactly why he wanted to be buried balls-deep while he played with the guys.

But that wasn't the half of why he insisted you stay put.

Mitch may be territorial as hell, but he'll never pass up an opportunity to have his ego stroked or to flaunt what luxuries he has at his disposal.

These virtual escapades are like open season for that shit.

Every compliment was more his than yours. Praise for your obedience was truly kudos for his firm hand. Each envy-laced remark, whether it be laden with degradation or brimming with flattery, went straight to his head and to his cock. And, best of all, they had him to thank for the small taste of a heaven they could only dream of.

Win or lose, every game resulted in a night that rendered you speechless and incredibly sore—he loves attention that much.

"Fine," he relents, more aroused now after his trip down memory lane. "You can look, but you can't touch. And don't even think about sweet talking her or bullying me into it. Got it?"

“What’dya say, baby? Should we give the people what they came up here to see?”

Sheepishly, you nod. A pitiful whine matches the pout you wear, impatient as ever.

His reply tickles your ear. The low chuckle is surprisingly airy for a sound burdened by the weight of his smugness.

Ever since he got his hands on your heart, your boyfriend's been inclined to... pomposity. Mitch needs the world to know it's his palm you reside in. He wants the credit he's owed for the spectacular state of disarray you become whenever he's present.

Occasionally, the ego of it all drives you up the wall. But, it's difficult to knock someone down a peg when they've earned every right to be on their high horse.

Not that you're complaining; he's hot when he's cocky.

At the foot of the bed, Mitch frames your body with his thighs. Yours are parted narrowly, only enough for a hand and some wiggle room, but your crowd of three isn't starved for visual stimulation in the slightest.

What you'd put on not two hours prior now sits on the dresser opposite you neatly folded.

Mitch rubs a few fingers over the budding mess between your thighs and, even though the touch remains central to the source, the last garment standing diffuses a delicious tingling sensation. It's minimal, and to an infuriating degree—enough to kindle the fire in your belly without ever risking a premature finale.

Your knees knock together in frustration, but they won't stay that way for long.

Mitch wrenches his hand out from between your thighs, completely ignoring the way you whimper at the loss. He pulls your legs apart with both hands and hooks each one over his knees, leaving your feet dangling outside his.

“You keep them spread, yeah?"

Again, you nod.

Now is not the time to push his buttons.

Mo runs a hand over his flushed face. “Fuckin’ hell,” he laments.

The damp patch, now verging on translucent, stands in stark contrast to the bright, creamy cotton. A pretty, little satin bow sits demurely above the drop of sweetness no one but Mitch will ever taste again.

Mitch is just as eager as you are. You can feel it on your skin; in the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat; in the effort behind his breathing. But, most obviously, in the bulge burrowing into the small of your back. Which is why, when his deft hand slips beneath the thin waistband to curl into your heat, it comes as no surprise.

He doesn't linger, much to everyone's disappointment.

Mitch is quick to dispel the new gloom blanketing the room, though, holding the evidence of your enthusiasm up to the light as if raising the Cup.

A thick combination of horror and delight burns shallowly under your skin as he slowly separates them, revealing the full extent of your arousal as it hangs proudly between the chuffed digits.

“Showin’ off for my friends?” he chides, though it's clear he couldn’t be happier about the sticky display.

You mewl in response to the light mockery.

And now it's just as evident how badly the three men standing against the wall want to alleviate the growing pressure below their belts.

However, they won't because they can't.

Mitch wants to be able to see their hands—both of them, at all times.

"They're being so good for you, aren't they? So quiet and polite; got 'em their best behavior for you, baby."

The stage whisper makes Auston scoff and Willy groan. Mo seems to have gone mute.

Ignoring them, your chin dips. Mitch huffs his amusement.

"But have they behaved well enough to earn a treat?" —and before you give him yet another nod, he specifies how he'd like you to respond: "Words, baby. Let them hear that pretty voice."

You comply in a series of choppy whimpers, "Y-Yessir... s'good... They've been s-so good—more than enough."

You plead on their behalf as much as your own.

Mitch moans into your ear, unhinged and primal, and immediately rucks down the ruined material—one half of a matching set—until they hang off one ankle.

It's taking every ounce of self-control to not flip you over and take you face down ass up; Mitch is enjoying this demonstration of power that much.

The blood pumping in your ears drowns out whatever reaction Mitch's teammates had to seeing you bare and on display, but simply knowing they're there, watching with undivided attention, sets your skin ablaze.

"I always have to stretch her out before we can do anything fun. Doesn't matter how long or how often I've been fucking her—or which hole. Without fail, my girl tightens right back up like she's brand fuckin' new."

At a gingerly pace, your boyfriend tugs back the soft, subtle hood covering that tender, oh-so-sensitive spot. He lifts the curtain, unveiling the bundle of nerves like the work of art that it is, watching as it pulses for attention. His free hand frames your weeping folds before spreading them open. Though, this early on there's not much to see. And it would be hard to if there were, considering what a mess you've made already. The finishing touch comes from Mitch's hips, which nudge yours in a silent demand for an upward tilt that yields an unobstructed view of both needy, flexing holes for the audience.

"—and I never get sick of breaking her in all over again."

At their wide eyes and slack jaws, Mitch preens. He's delighting in this torture, never having had something they didn't that was worth coveting. Still, regardless of how high Mitch gets off the attention, his generosity has its limits.

The hand petting your clit abandons its post in favor of venturing further south. Mitch absorbs the full-body jolt his mild prodding elicits while continuing to circle the pretty pucker, though never breaching the taut band.

"This little one—it doesn't come for free, and it doesn't go for cheap, either. I can tell you that much right now, boys."

For a bit, mitch plays with you to his heart's content. Still withholding what you want most, but somehow managing to keep you more than satisfied.

But, eventually, your boyfriend begins taking requests from the live audience the way he's done in the past cam shows he has participated in.

"Show us how many that needy cunt can take at once." (Morgan)

—Tonight, three. But the real answer is all of them—thumb included.

"You're doing all the work. Make her fuck herself on them." (William)

—You do a decent job...until your legs give out under the demands of exertion with little to no leverage. Mitch resumes control seconds before your lower extremities begin tingling, a precursor to the eventual numbness that will undoubtedly render you useless.

"Oh, c'mon. I know she can take it harder and faster. Don't hold back, Mitchy." (Auston)

— You can; you do.

...and when you can no longer resist succumbing to the unbearable tightness just below your navel, ruthlessly coupled with his thumb swiping over your swollen clit, you convulse violently in Mitch's steely grip. Your limbs thrash with all their might just to make the most of what little autonomy they've been allotted. A heavy downpour of tears stream down your cheeks, collecting beads of perspiration as they go.

“Goddamn, your tears are even prettier in person," Auston remarks, awestruck.

Willy softly mumbles something to the effect of deeming you an angel and Mitch snorts, knowing that couldn't be further from the truth; you were putting on a show in more ways than one.

“A fuckin’ star—that’s what she is," he's quick to correct.

You're still entrenched in the aftershocks of your first Mitch-induced climax in over a week when he abruptly removes his fingers in favor of spreading you open for your adoring fans.

On the surface, pulling your outer lips apart with his thumbs a second time seems purely for the benefit of a spectator. However, in further exposing such sensitive, delicate skin to the elemets, Mitch is doing you a brilliant favor. The wetness clinging to you like a second skin chills considerably.

At a certain point, you can't discern which shivers belong to these escalations and which stem from the peak you're still reeling from.

Your boyfriend peers over your shoulder, slightly envious of his friends' vantage point, to watch your puffy opening constrict around nothing.

He smirks with his lips pressed to your neck. "Even after all that, this greedy hole still isn't satisfied. You guys done nothing to earn more, but she's too damn inviting to resist."

You're three orgasms deep and verging on incoherent when Mitch finally lowers your limp form over his hard cock, and he finds immense satisfaction in how easily you come apart for him once again. Before he even bottomed out.

A few sharp thrusts with his hand around your throat, his arm firm in the valley between your breasts, and your body milks him like it's after his very soul.

But unfortunately for your poor, overstimulated pussy, he is far from finished with you...

"Y'did so good for me, always so fuckin' good, aren't you? Now stay still for me, baby, just for a second."

You nod and do as you're told, mostly because you can't do much to the contrary even if you wanted to. An overwhelming mix of too sensitive and almost numb has incapacitated you. You're too strung out for that, too far gone even for words. Everything is fuzzy; your mind, senses, and vision.

Physically, you aren't faring much better. Without Mitch propping you up, you fall back onto the sheets with a faint sigh. You're vaguely aware of what's happening and why, but aren't in a state to be much help.

Lucky for you both, Mitch loves to play creative director.

Your boyfriend gently configures your body the way he needs it in order to get the best stills and a few clips to GIF. Mitch bends your knees, placing each foot flat a few inches from your ass, mindful of keeping your knees wide. Enough so that your folds are forced apart naturally just the way he likes, but without causing you any unnecessary discomfort.

Soon, you're splayed open again—Mitch and his camera join the sea of spectators—your swollen cunt on full display as the evidence of your tryst dribbles out onto the duvet.

"Uh, what... What're you doing?" Willy asks, perplexed.

At least, you think it's the winger. You can't be certain, ot with your head still somewhere amongst the stars.

"What does it look like?" he huffs in response, clearly annoyed by the interruption to his artistic process.

There's more murmuring across the room. From what you can gather, you surmise they're taken aback by how casually this aspect of the job is unfolding, how easily Mitch slips between roles; from run-of-the-mill boyfriend to seasoned dominant, to professional content creator, and back again.

It's something you yourself have thought about on more than one occasion, but never at length.

"Alright, that should do it," Mitch says mostly to himself before leaning down to address you, one hand cradling your jaw while the other brushes away a stale tear. "Now's the hard part."

You can almost feel the triple dose of concern radiating from the far corner. You'd chuckle to yourself if it wouldn't make you look crazier than you already do.

Your boyfriend isn't wrong; this next part is the hard part.

It's funny how your perception of something can change dramatically depending on the context in which it happens. For example, right now, Mitch is sliding ruined fabric up from your ankle for the express purpose of soaking up everything that's fast escaping; you're too spent to keep it squeezed in.

When he does this just because he can, the overt display of dominance makes you borderline feral. But when the intent is to create a product for profit, it's far from enjoyable.

Hence the whine of discontent presently bouncing off of the walls of Auston Matthews' guest bedroom.

Mitch is quick to soothe you, "I know, I know, but we gotta get 'em ready to ship out tomorrow, baby."

He knows you'll stop complaining once it starts to dry. Once the chill is no longer so harsh or foreign on your sensitive skin. After it tightens, Mitch knows what you'll beg for. His greedy girl always wants more. Especially when she's freshly marked and unable to think of anything but him.

"What? No party favor?" Auston asks, the words bleeding sarcasm.

From between your still-quivering thighs, you catch Mitch rolling his eyes. "I'm sorry, did you tip my pretty girl nearly five grand last week?"

Auston balks, head wagging.

Mitch gloats.

"That's what I thought. No cash, no panties."

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thehopelessromanticclub · 1 year

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THE KISS CAM

Pairing : Jeon Jeongguk x Y/N

Genre : Fluff, dating au

Word count : 1k

Summary : you appear on the KISS CAM but with the wrong person…

Weekends…

There was nothing special about weekends. For you weekends were boring. It consisted of you munching some potato chips, binge watching Kdramas, living up to your name of night owl. That was it. That was the end of it.

But that was until Jungkook came along, your boyfriend of 6 months. Weekends never felt so amazing…

Loving him was so easy…

It felt so natural…

He was shy. He was tired and messy hairs. He was oversized clothes and ripped jeans. He was whispers at 4 am. He was the smell before it rains. He was the love of her life. A love she never expected would be hers. A love so pure, that it feels to good to be true.

Author’s POV

Ding Dong

“Coming…” you yell loud enough for the entire neighbour hood to hear you before making your way to the door to open it.

There he was standing looking handsome, dashing, cool, amazing as ever… Words were never enough to describe him.

“Ready to go?” He enquired before complimenting how beautiful you looked. He always does that. He’ll call you beautiful even if you were ugly-crying some moments ago. He’ll call you beautiful even if you just woke up and ur face is all swollen up. You were always beautiful in his eyes.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You chimed in making sure to lock the door before you left.

Jungkook had been so into baseball recently, that he convinced you into going to one of the matches that was being held today.

Time skip

“There, that’s our seat.” He said pointing in the direction of two empty seats, both of you making your way into the direction.

The whole stadium was packed with tons of people. More than half of the population wearing their representative team’s uniform. It was spectacular.

“Y/N, is that you?” You heard a familiar voice beside you, hitting your eardrums, which made you turn your head in the direction.

“Yijoon?”

Hwang Yijoon, or more like your crush during high school. Although you did have feelings for him, but that was a thing in the past. As they always say, first love is never successful.

You grew up, your feeling changed. Both of you lost contact owing to the new chapter of adulting in your respective lives. You both got busy in the marathon of growing up.

You’ve told Jungkook about Yijoon once when he inquired who was the guy in your graduation photo, with hearts drawn all over him. Yes, it was you who drew the hearts, your only means of expressing your love for him.

“Omg, Yijoon-ah, how long has it been?” You were beyond ecstatic to meet him.

“I almost forgot about your existence.”

“Well, that was harsh.” He said placing his hand on his heart.

“You grew up so much Y/N, I almost couldn’t recognise you without your braces and bangs.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You laughed swaying your hair.

Both of you got so busy in catching up that you never realised the game had started and that you had a human being accompany you today.

Jungkook’s POV

“Sigh…” this is the umpteenth time I have been sighing.

I’ve been trying so hard to concentrate on the game but all I can concentrate is on them. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but it is her CRUSH being referred here. HER F**KING CRUSH.

I so badly want to go and sit between them and tell that guy, “hey dude, we are on a date, and if you don’t mind I’ll have my girlfriend to myself.”

Author’ POV

“Umm…Y/N? Who’s that guy? He has been eyeing us for a while now.” Yijoon inquired.

It was at this moment, she knew she f**ked up.

You quickly turned your attention towards Jungkook giving him an apologetic look.

“Yijoon, meet Jungkook, Jungkook, meet Yijoon.” You quickly introduced both of them.

“Hi, I am Jungkook, Y/N’s boyfriend. I’ve heard a lot about you from Y/N.” Jungkook gave a strong handshake to Yijoon, asserting himself, jealousy clearly visible on his face.

“Hopefully good things.” Yijoon replied.

Before you knew it, it was break time, or should I say KISS CAM TIME.

Numerous couples appeared on the screen, many of them eventually giving in and kissing, all the while, kiss me more by Doja cat played in the background.

“Aww, they are soo adorable.” You squealed clapping your hands, looking at couples on the screen have the time of their lives.

But that was until you appeared on the screen…

With Yijoon…

Oh shit…

You crossed your hands indicating you and Yijoon are not together. Yijoon even tried pointing at Jungkook. But no matter what, the camera wouldn’t budge.

Now even the crowd started chanting, “ kiss kiss kiss….”

That was the end of it. That was the final straw for Jungkook. He pulled you in for a kiss. It was sweet and soft. Our lips were madly in love and married. It didn’t involve tongue. All that was involved was love and longing. Longing for each other.

You could hear the crowd cheering and clapping in the background. But that was all white noise. All that mattered in this moment was you and him. It was your moment.

You pulled away after some time, running short of breath. Your eyes met his.

“Your face is soo…..red. Are you fine?” Jungkook quickly made sure to check your temperature by placing his hand on your forehead.

“I’m fine.” To which he nodded. You could feel your face pulsating, adrenaline still in your veins making a run for it. Conclusion- you were blushing.

“Y/N, you should know you have good taste in men.” Yijoon whispered beside you.

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gapsbetweenlovers · 1 year

Text

shivers

——

You're awoken by the sound of the shower being turned off, a muffled thump followed by residual droplets of water pattering onto the floor and down the gurgling drain. The room surrounding you is soaked in golden sunshine, your vision blearily adjusting to the blinding December morning. The sheets beneath you are warm despite the frigid temperature outside, and the sun manages to forge past the thin layer of cracked ice on the window panes, casting geometric shapes of light across the bed.

If you had to guess, you'd say it's sometime after seven. Luckily, it's Saturday, and you don't have any other plans except burrowing in the warmth of fleece blankets and a heated apartment. Your eyes flutter shut at the satisfying thought. It would be nice if your boyfriend could join you in the pleasure of doing absolutely nothing, but work loves to cruelly snatch him from your grasp. Weekends never really exist with him.

You turn onto your side and shiver when the blanket slips past your shoulders. Even with the heat cranked and hanging heavily in the air, being close to the windows causes the tiniest draft to waft through unknown passageways.

Behind you, the bathroom door opens with a familiar creak. The carpeted floor creaks similarly when Carmen walks around, probably getting ready for a shift at work. It feels good not to move, so you just listen intently. Dresser drawers clunk shut, fabrics rustle, and a pill bottle of painkillers rattle, the noises causing your consciousness to fully float to the surface.

It's a routine you've become accustomed to. In a matter of time, Carmen will jangle his restaurant key and leave with a kiss on your forehead before slipping out the door into the vast metropolis of early birds and breadwinners. Then you'll get more hours of shut-eye, missing the body curled beside you, before aimlessly wandering around the lonely apartment until evening darkens the sky and your burnt-out boyfriend comes home.

It's worth it when he sees you and flashes that rare, carefree smile, two little dimples indenting his cheeks.

What you don't expect this morning, however, is a prominent dip in the mattress and a wonderfully warm hand spreading over your bare back. You mumble a sleepy noise into the pillow before stretching every limb in your lax body until you tremble from an instant rush of endorphins.

"Morning," Carmen says quietly. "You got the shivers?"

You grin tiredly, rubbing at your eyes. "Yeah. Are you leaving?"

"No." His hand smooths down your spine, prompting more shivers, the pleasant kind. "There was a blizzard last night, so everything's closed because of the roads."

It makes sense. The forthcoming whiteout was all anyone talked about the past week. It must have decided to arrive early, and you're grateful you avoided driving anywhere and could sleep through the roaring gusts of winter.

"Mm... I have you to myself for the entire weekend?"

"Looks like it."

"Hallelujah," you say, ecstasy coursing through your veins.

Carmen laughs and lightly scratches at your scalp, the lulling motion forming goosebumps all over your skin. Shivering again, you burrow deeper into your blanket cocoon like a hibernating rabbit. You eventually hear Carmen get up and go about his morning. You wish you could convince him to seek shelter back in bed, but you know that he'll be wide awake until nightfall once he's up. It doesn't take long for you to drift back to sleep, sighing contently at the mere thought of two days spent snowed in with Carmen. No work or outside obligations, just you and him alone in the cozy warmth of your shared apartment.

When you awake for the second time, the sun has opted to hide behind a grey gloom for the remainder of the day. The room is still light enough to see your surroundings, thanks to the piercingly white snow scene visible beyond the sheer curtains blowing by the humming space heater. There's also a faint glow coming from the TV opposite the bed. The weather channel is droning on in the background, with repetitive talk of hazardous road conditions and powerful winds threatening the entirety of Chicago. Heaps of snow currently block the sidewalks, halting most modes of transportation.

Your senses pick up more sounds every second that passes. Snowplows rumble past every so often. The heater occasionally rattles from years of use. The wind howls fiercely, a scattered mosaic of snowflakes sticking to the windows.

And then there's… crunching.

Bizarrely enough, it almost startles you. You're out of it, the recent hazy winter mornings amplifying your drowsiness so much that you forgot you live with someone. And that certain someone is eating a bowl of cereal right next to you in bed, a plaid robe draping off his otherwise bare body (save for a pair of white briefs snug on his lower half), hair still damp from his shower and falling over his forehead like tendrils of a cute, curly plant. A corkscrew willow, perhaps.

You shift your head to watch Carmen. He's cross-legged and mindlessly watching the meteorologist on TV point at a weather map of the Midwest, blotches of blues and purples sheathing almost every county. His spoon hovers over his bowl of Fruity Pebbles, dry because milk hurts his poor, fucked-up stomach. Plus, the crunchiness of Fruity Pebbles is the best part; there's no need to ruin that delight by making them soggy.

"You're still here," you mumble, resting a hand on his thigh.

A sliver of you expected him to face the brutal winter and somehow make it to the restaurant because he's a workaholic and possesses a dire need to satisfy customers. But he probably knows well enough that no one in their right mind is stepping outside today, not even for the best deli sandwich in the Chicago area.

Carmen's leg jerks upward, his attention focusing on you. "Jesus, you're cold. How are you still freezing? You were literally wrapped in the blankets like a burrito for hours."

You let out a cat-like yawn before asking, "What time is it?"

"Almost ten."

You stiffen, not realizing time flowed by so quickly already. "Oh. Whoops."

He shakes his head with fondness. "You hungry, sleepyhead? I can make you something."

"No, don't leave," you plead, frowning when he moves a fraction of an inch.

"I'll be back," he replies, squeezing your hand still on his thigh, a weak attempt to keep him here. "Let me whip you up a couple of pancakes."

"Wait. Can we just cuddle for a bit? We never get the chance to in the mornings."

Carmen goes silent, taking one last bite of cereal before setting his bowl on the nightstand and scooting into your personal space. His body radiates heat better than any furnace could compete with. He looks younger with his disheveled hair and robe you've only seen him wear on Sundays when he's cooking a five-star breakfast for two. It's weirdly attractive to see a world-renowned chef confined to a tiny apartment, to see him cook for you in a vulnerable, domestic way. Who else knows you like a dollop of salsa on your scrambled eggs? Or how to cook bacon to the perfect crispness because you like it even if he doesn't? The intimacy of sharing a space and seeing a soft side of him no one else has makes your heart almost give out just thinking about it.

You slump into Carmen's open embrace, feeling his arms wrap around your shoulders and squeeze tightly. You pull the blanket up higher until only your head is showing. Carmen purposefully chews obnoxiously next to your ear, making you kick his shin and grumble, "You're so annoying."

He swallows and laughs, nuzzling his face in your neck. His hair tickles, and one of your arms goes numb under his back. This isn't going as planned. Coolness keeps finding pockets to writhe its way under the blanket, making you groan frustratedly.

"Can you just lay on top of me?" you ask.

Carmen makes a funny face. "What?"

"Suffocate me, but gently," you elaborate. "Like, just lay your body on top of mine. That sounds like heaven right now. Warm me up, Carmy."

"You're a wacko."

"Is that a yes?"

Your prayers are answered as Carmen maneuvers both your bodies so that he can settle on top of you, chest to chest, without the possibility of getting any closer. He's practically melding with you. Sure, it's a little more complicated to breathe, but if you died here, you wouldn't have too many complaints about the circumstances of your passing.

Oh, his natural heat and the smell of his aftershave liquify your soul entirely. Your limbs turn to jelly as his cheek rests flat against your collarbone, the addictive and potent citrus scent right under your nose. One day, you're going to bite him if he keeps smelling this glorious after a shower.

His left hand blindly searches for yours, and when he finds it, he intertwines his fingers with yours. "Warm?" he murmurs, voice slurring from… sleep? Shit, look what you've done. Now, there's no way you're both getting out of bed before noon, but maybe that was your master plan all along.

"So, so warm," you say, legs twining with his. "And happy."

You feel his small smile against your skin, punctuated with a kiss. "Good. No more shivers."

——

#the bear fx #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #the bear fanfic #the bear #jeremy allen white

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itsjusthockey · 1 year

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Moth To A Flame - Jack Hughes & Trevor Zegras

Hahaha another angst fic (cheating, which is bad but its for the plot)(also wrote a long time ago but decided you all would maybe enjoy?)

Thank you all for followers and love, I eat that shit up

Send in requests and questions, I wanna bond guys

Hope you enjoy

wc: 2,921 (credit to gif maker)(don’t steal my work)(song is by the weekend)

Like a moth to a flame

I'll pull you in, I'll pull you back to

What you need initially

It's just one call away

And you'll leave him, you're loyal to me

But this time, I'll let you be

Hotels always make you feel weird. Your legs ache. It feels like a million tiny pinpricks in your thigh; if you lay on your left, it goes away. But then your arm starts to hurt, so you lay on your back—the pinpricks resume. So you lay on your right; the pricks don’t go away, so you try to ignore them. Your toes curl from the aching and your hands are shaking a bit too. You need some water. You turn to your left side again, contemplating just getting up and getting something to drink.

“If you’re gonna flip flop all night, can you at least do it gently so I can sleep?”

Your eyes widen as the ragged sound of Trevors voice fills the once dead silent hotel room. The words aren’t harsh, but you can’t help but notice the annoyed tinged when he throws the words at you.

You thought he was out cold since he seemed to be exhausted from practicing all day. The All-Star NHL game was in full swing, and he had no time to do anything other than eat, sleep, practice, and play. Guilt washes over your body as you turn over to face his back. He was asleep on his stomach, his face nestled into the crook of his arm, having seemingly fallen asleep after your interruptions. You want him to touch you, to hold you. To do anything to have a reminder that he’s there and that he cares, but you know that’s too much to ask.

You almost let a quiet apology slip past your lips, but you don’t bother once you realize that he is as good as dead to the world.

You turn your back away from him, sliding your phone off the desk and opening it. You’re beyond restless, and nothing can calm your wandering mind, and before you can stop them flashes of your past but still haunting relationship echo through your head. You used to be comforted when you couldn’t sleep. You remember the late-night drives, the listening to music while he gently traced your skin, the amazing sex if you were wound up.

This relationship wasn’t that; this could never be that.

Before you can control your fingers, they hover over his phone contact, touching so close to the screen that if you move even slightly, you’d be dialing his number.

You stay there for a minute, staring at the screen when you feel Trevor shift beside you. You don’t bother to look at the screen as you toss it away, placing it on the nightstand. You slow your breathing and force yourself to sit still. You don’t want to bother him.

You sit there for what feels like an eternity, with the entire weight of the world pressing down on your chest. You want to scream, you want to panic, but you just lay there, staring at the ceiling, hoping when you wake up, you won’t feel as bad as you do right now.

Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true

His alarm wakes you out of your slumber or whatever you could call the limbo that you were in. You want to move, but you catch yourself staying still in the bed as you feel him swing his legs off the mattress and onto the floor. You open your eyes slightly and watch as he stretches his back, cracking it as he does and slipping on a t-shirt that was thrown on the floor the night before. You close your eyes again and try to feign sleep, but you taken out of it when you feel Trevor plant a wet kiss on your cheek.

Your awake now, but before you can react to anything, Trevor is burying his face into your neck, wrapping his arms around your torso and you’re breathing in the smell of his body wash. After a few minutes of laying there in silence, his one hand busy tracing shapes on your torso while the other is on your back, he lifts his head, removing it from the crook of your neck. He smirks up at you before kissing a line up your jugular, placing the last kiss right on your lips.

His lips linger on top of yours for a few seconds, and your fingers entangle into his hair as he holds your jaw into place, deepening the kiss.

Finally, he pulls away from you, looking deep into your eyes. You almost hated when he looked at you like that. His eyes bore into your soul and made your stomach do flips. You never thought you’d let a man make you feel such deep emotion again, and it made you feel endlessly guilty all over again.

“You wanna get some breakfast before I head to the rink?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak quite yet. He smiles a wicked smile and gets up, heading in the direction of the bathroom and closing the door.

You finally pull yourself off of the bed and stroll to your suitcase. The case was a slight mess, but it was your fault after trying to find the number necklace you always wear when you’re around him.

You pick out something to wear, and after 20 minutes of getting ready from both parties, you’re walking down the street, hand in hand, toward a diner you had seen when you pulled into your hotel.

You can’t help but smile as you eat breakfast. He’s cracking jokes and messing around with the different condiments, and you can’t help but let your heart fill with adoration. He’s the only guy in the world, and you kick yourself for thinking otherwise.

You’re enjoying your food and talking aimlessly when the bell on the door rings as it opens. You’re sitting facing away from the door, but when Trevor looks up and his face falls, you know it can’t be someone good who just entered.

You whip your head around faster than you should, and you immediately lock eyes with the green orbs you spent so many nights staring into. You swallow hard and rip your eyes away, turning back to Trevor, who is glaring daggers at his once best friend that just walked in. You go to say something to make him feel better, but he puts up a hand to stop you, instead opening his mouth.

“My appetite is ruined; let’s just go.”

You don’t argue as he drags you out of the booth, throwing way more money than needed down on the table. You can tell he is beyond pissed by the way his jaw is locked, and he pulls you a little harder than he should toward the exit.

You walk fast along with him, but the second before you’re pulled from the diner, you pull your head back to look. Your eyes meet with his again, and he gives you a small smirk.

You hate the way it still makes your heart skip.

But does he know you call me when he sleeps?

But does he know the pictures that you keep?

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Oh, tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

It was much later in the day, and you’re on edge. This morning's little interaction had caused both you and your boyfriend's moods to sour. Now, you know better than to talk to Trevor. He was distracted and didn’t play well. He missed easy passes, didn’t score, and let the man who he hates score a goal right by him. After the game he insisted he was fine you don’t want to be on the receiving end of the temper you know he has.

So instead, you’re wandering the hotel halls when you come across a little lounge area that looks surprisingly welcome. You take a seat on a little couch area and contemplate what to do with the passing time before your boyfriend calms down. You wanna go and be there for him, but you realize that distance may be better for the both of you.

You’re aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear someone clear their throat. Your eyes dart up to meet the culprit, and your stupid heart swells when you meet his eyes for the third time that day. He steps into the room like he owns the place and goes to sit in the chair that’s directly opposite of you, leaning as close to you as the chair would let him.

“How’d you sleep last night?”

The question is laced with some humor, and you don’t miss the way his eyes light up with slight mischief. You shake your head.

“It was actually great; I slept amazing cuddling with my boyfriend.” You emphasize the word boyfriend as your stare hard at him.

He chuckles, but there is little humor to it.

“Sure, I can tell from the massive bags under your eyes and the fact that I got a phone call last night.”

Terror flashes across your face, and you pray he’s lying as you look through your call list. Much to your horror, you see an outgoing call to him late in the night, and you realize you had hit the stupid button when Trevor had stirred next to you.

You’re at a loss for words, but you try to explain yourself, but he stops you.

“Don’t try to justify it. It’s nice to know you think about me just as much as I think about you.”

You protest, but he stands up quickly, snatching your phone from your hands. You go to grab it, but before you can, he holds you away from him with his ridiculous arm span.

You stand there defeated as he scrolls for a minute before he finds what he’s looking for, and he smirks once again as he shows you your phone. There in front of your face, is the hidden app that holds all your darkest secrets. You remember once telling him about it while you were drunk, but you hoped he had forgotten it.

“Does Trevor know you still keep all these?” There was no humor in his voice. Rather instead, it was filled with slight anger.

You watch silently as he scrolls through your entire relationship, all reduced to pictures you swore you would delete but never could.

Once he is satisfied with your utter humiliation, he stops scrolling and hands you back your phone. He is staring so deeply into your eyes that you have to look away. You have no idea why he’s doing this to you, but you can’t find the words to tell him to leave.

You both sit there in silence until he gets up, running his finger frustratingly through his hair, and heads for the door. He halts before he leaves, turning slowly back to face you and speaking softly.

“Happy would’ve been two years.”

Just like that, he walks out the door.

Yeah, you should be with him

I let you go from time

You should stay with him

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true

It’s late when you make your way back to the shared hotel room. You open up the door with the key, and you quietly click it shut once you enter.

Trevor is asleep as you walk toward him. The moonlight of the window reflects on the clear skin of his bare back. You reach out to run your fingertips across the skin. The warmth radiates off his tan skin, almost as if he’s burning up. You climb into bed and scoot closer to him, pressing your chest against the back of his. Your cold hands wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer, earning a wince from the boy facing away from you.

He turns around to face you, and when he looks into your eyes, he can tell something is off. However, he doesn’t push. Instead, he places a light kiss on your lips and tuns over once more.

You’re stuck in a never-ending cycle. You wish he would push; you wish he would do anything to break down the walks that are forming around your heart. You wish he would see that you’re slipping away from him. But he doesn’t; instead he just sleeps, and you’re stuck thinking about all the things that have happened and all the things that could have been.

-But does he know you call me when he sleeps?

But does he know the pictures that you keep?

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Oh, tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

Right here with me, babe

Where it truly lies

In my bed, babe

Where it truly lies

In my arms, babe

It’s 3:13 in the morning when you give in to your darkest desires. It’s a simple text that you send, but you know he’s awake, and you know he’ll answer. Even though you know, as soon as you press send, your heart begins to pound. You’re scared it will pound so hard that you’ll wake Trevor, so you force yourself to calm down.

It’s 3:15 when he answers.

It’s 3:19 when guilt washes over your body as you turn over to face Trevor. He’s sleeping on his stomach again. The duvet had been kicked to the bottom of the bed by him at some point in the night. The boy was like a damn space heater; he never got cold and always radiated heat in the night, no matter the time of year.

You stare at him for a while longer when you decide. You wait a minute to hear his breathing, and it’s steady. Knowing you’re in the clear, you get up slowly and softly, and by 3:22, you’re knocking on the door of someone else.

When he opens the door, he smiles as though he had won the lottery, and he quickly pulls you inside. His hand grabs your waist suddenly, earning a gasp in shock from you, and he lifts you up as if you are weightless, pressing you against the closed door.

He doesn’t waste any time. He has always loved neck kisses more than he loved real kisses. He loved everything about your neck. The way his face fit perfectly into it. The way you’d get goosebumps when he held the back of your neck in his hands while he kissed you. The way you let him hold your life in his hands as he wrapped his hands around your neck during sex. The way your neck looked the morning after a passionate night, covered in bite marks. The way your fingers would run across them the next day, and you’d hit him for being so careless.

Scratch that; he didn’t just love your neck; he loved everything about you. He loved everything you hated about yourself, and you knew that. The way he’s looking at you has you breathless and you felt the butterflies multiplying in your stomach when he carries you from the door to the bed.

As he crawls on top of you, you couldn’t think of anything else in the world. You had him right there in front of you, and that was all you ever need. You knew deep down that in the early morning hours, you would hate yourself, but you don’t care. You wasted so much time trying to train your heart to belong to someone else when all along, you both knew he owned it. So, you drown out these thoughts as clothing is quickly scattered across the room. But before goes went any further, Jack stops his actions and looks at you once again, a questioning look crossing his darkened eyes.

“Before this goes any further, tell me you love me.” He pauses, his eyes holding a thousand emotions. “Tell me that you’re heart is mine.”

You whisper that it’s his a thousand times. You meant it when you told him that all those months ago, and you’ll mean it forever. For some stupid, god damn reason, you knew that if Jack Hughes were the sun, you would gladly change your name to Icarus. If he was the moon, then you are the tides that he pushes and pulls. If Jack belonged to you, to you belonged to him, well...you don’t have to imagine that anymore. He is your’s, as you are his.

Old habits die hard, but they are not immortal and you are only human. A human who make mistakes and will have to pay for them, but also a human whose heart beats in tandem with one other person. You now understand, lying there as he continues the assault on your heart, that your soul was made to complete his. You now know that no matter what you do, how hard to try to get away, that you’re no better than a moth to a flame when it comes to him.

#hockey #hockey boys #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey fic #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #angst #anaheim ducks #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #nhl hockey

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hanamgi · 1 year

Text

Autoshop

┈➤ Summary: He was the sun in your universe, you just wished you were a fraction of that for his.

◦ Strangers/friends to….

◦ 17k+ words

◦ Rating: 18+

◦ Pairing: mehcanicJKxFemReader

➤ Warnings: ┃ Swearing, DomJK, face sitting/riding, lustful makeout, they have sex in the shop, seggs on the car lol, teasing, dirty talk, grinding, he spits on it, sloppy eating out, ┃Mutual pining, Jungkook is an assho*le lowkey, reader is very much naive, frustration between the two, emotionally constipated Koo, implied traumatic past relationships, Jimin is the best friend JK needs, Hoseok also a good friend, idk I wrote this during a time I was frustrated with someone, and in essence this kinda bout how she did me dirty but obviously this is 100 more dramticized for the audience hehe

HELLO: I really wanted to release it's his first time MONTHS back but literally uni has hit me like a truck I can't seem to escape exam szn at all (pls help) but the hype is dying down im in my final semster of first year (more exams yay) but ill get to have a long break after. That being said I hope you enjoy this, it was in my draft for almost 11 months now, so lmk what you think don't be shy and please like, share, reblog <3

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Finally it was time.

You were beyond ecstatic to go and visit the shop again, the oil in your car finally signalling that it needed a refill, so why not bring it to your favourite mechanic? It was last summer that your car had broken down on the highway, needing a whole new engine and it ended up getting towed into a mechanic shop just off the 406. You were tired, exhausted, just trying to get back to your apartment from spending the weekend at your parent's house.

Your parents missed you but you missed the little growly cat you had at home, -Mr. Snuggles fur- (the most fluffiest, cutest, grumpy, old, ginger cat you had waiting to welcome you home) if it wasn’t for him you probably would have ended up jumping off the bridge near the highway from embarrassment. The tow trucker guy had managed to crack in a few not subtle jabs on the old thing, but seriously it isn’t your fault that you can’t afford a 2020 mercedes benz Sue you! besides you knew jack shit about cars, it wasn't your problem. But that wasn’t even the good part, the mechanic fixing it was a very attractive, very handsome man. Pretty privilege really does exist because you let the shit he said slide, to focus on his handsome figure.

Frankly, you had bigger problems to deal with, like; your job: when the sketches for the new Facebook advertisement were due, what colours would be more appealing to people, how the advertisement should be perceived as funny rather then serious, the difference between maroon and burgundy-god you really had bigger problems. You really hadn’t thought about your engine at all, you just filled your car with gas and drove it to where you needed to throughout the years. When you look back to when you bought it, you grimace, the whole process was really sketchy. DAMMIT!! You should have taken your dad or hired someone to help you find a suitable low-maintenance car. Yet here you were again, it’s been six months since the first night you got your car towed here and kept coming back whenever there was a slight squeak to it. Some may think you're very passionate and caring for your car, maybe well off since you keep coming in to get unnecessary shit fixed. But that's not the case at all, the secret was…..you were totally, (and delusionally) utterly, in love with the mechanic you’ve seemed to befriend over the months coming here.

Currently sitting on the stool he pulled out for you, you watch him tweak the engine's air pump while you sigh dreamily.

He wore denim overalls and a wife-beater underneath, the top of it tied around his tiny waist. You could see the beautiful glaze of his honey muscles, –sinewy lean, and big—skin that glimmered from his sweat. Your imagination grows fast when he squats and the muscles of his thighs bulge slightly, god you were drooling. He was so handsome, tall, muscular, and- “..... Hello?” he called for your attention, the fourth time now..apparently and you blink embarrassed. Slightly jumping at his soft voice, sitting upright, you rise from the stool. “Oh- s- sorry I didn’t hear you” you blushed lightly, feeling your face heat up.

“Seemed like you were out there” he refers to you dozing off, you chuckle lightly.

“Something like that” you mumbled, pushing some strands of hair behind your back. He turns to you with a charming smile, a wrench in his veiny grip and you gulp. Your gaze slowly lingers from his tight grip to his face, soft lips pulled upwards into a cute pout, such sweet eyes forming crescents from the effects of his smile, your favourite type of smile. You’ve always wondered how it would feel to poke the little moles underneath his chin, or on top of his lip, maybe stick a finger into his cute dimple. Your fantasies run faster and faster and you almost miss what he says again.

“I changed the oil and fixed the squeaking, it’s probably gonna happen again and I don't want you to keep coming down here to pay ridiculous money to get it fixed so let me show you,” he waved you over. You frowned,- did he not want to see you anymore?

“Aren’t you supposed to advertise your business and not push away the customers?” You lightheartedly joke while he snorts.

Walking over you stop right in front of him, he was a mere 5 inches taller than you and the smell of oil and cologne wafted up your nose. It was a weird combination but it smelled so good, a little rusty but it was divinely masculine, the type of scent you would want to bury your face into, and sleep and bask in all night. The kind of scent that gives enough comfort and warmth. The scent is laced with maybe Dior perfume, metal rust, and the leftover remnants of cigarettes buds– that he smokes on his breaks.

“Okay see right here this little tube wrapped in the tin?” he asked, gesturing to the engine, you nodded. “You're going to take a wrench and twist it clockwise,” he demonstrates.

“I don't own a wrench,” you deadpan and Jungkook chuckles, he’s very amused to say the least, light airy laughter leaving his lips.

“You can have this one, I have plenty” he smiles cheekily and you almost groan. It was like he was trying to get rid of you, you swear.

“And then you're done, if it doesn't budge, grease it with the oil you bought last week,” he says and you nod, wanting to stay near his body warmth. He looks down at your pouty lips and places a hand underneath your chin.

“ ‘.....’ this is going to save you money trust me” he reassures–it wasn’t a way of shooing you out he assures. Jungkook was just concerned with your superfluous way of spending your money. He lifts your head up and your heart races a million times faster, breath hitching inside your throat.

“I know but you would do it for free if I came in, right?” you ask and he giggles, you swore your heart stopped at the airy- supple sound, it was adorable.

“Yeah, but what if you come in and I'm not here? Then what….. plus coming all this way is a lot,” he reasons and you sigh nodding your head. He was right, it was a lot of time, a lot of money to spend too. Your ulterior motives were not really a subtle secret anymore either, you're sure he is aware of your crush on him. You did spend so much gas money coming here and then money for getting random shit that didn't need fixing to be repaired.

“C’mon don't sulk,” he taps your nose and you finally crack a smile. You loved it when he played with you, cradled your face for any injuries he suspects whenever you come in with a busted mirror or a dented corner of the car. His light touches on your elbow guiding you, or the hovering arm over your lower back that does not creep down in a way to respect you. You want to see him more though, see him watch you, or how your gaze shows twinkles and stars when looking at him, and you know you are not subtle, he even teases you about it from time to time. You want to feel his skin under your palms, on you, under him over him–you're getting carried away.

“Okay but you should come get some lunch with me, if you aren't busy of course, maybe during your break or when your shift is done, or another day if you really busy I don't mind honestly-” you stop rambling to check his reaction, he has a stupid bunny grin on his face, eyes on yours while you heat up from embarrassment.

You weren't asking him out, you were only asking him to lunch. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable, you knew he was not interested in you with the way he approaches you’re mild confessions, or how he ignores the obvious yearning and longing in your gaze. You know he ignored the little twinkles and fairy dust shooting out of your orbs to him because you are so sure that the energy from the power of falling for this man has created this fiery light in your eyes– you can see it yourself. You can feel the weird tension, or maybe it’s just you or he just ignores it really well. Hopefully.

“I finish my shift in an hour, I have a few cars to wrap up and send off…..” He trails off, eyes shifting down to yours.

He watches the way your face falls, and your body sulk into a frown–he doesn’t want to disappoint you after all, you were so fragile he was afraid of hurting you. “Do you wanna help me and we can go out after?” he asks with a smirk and you feel your heart tug at some strings, the light coming back into your face. You nod eagerly and he mumbles a ‘great’ under his breath.

—

An hour later after helping Jungkook with the cars, (mainly passing him tools and getting him water, when he needed it) you both sit in a little diner near your apartment. It was an 80’s themed diner that had chequered floors and race car seats, funky colours and lighting. Jeon fit right in with his mechanic outfit, but you on the other hand had basic light-washed flare jeans and a basic tube top. You both ordered and talked randomly with one another, it wasn’t your first time going out for a friendly lunch with him, at least that’s what he thought. You both were on a friendly lunch date until one of the waitresses mistakes you both for a couple and Jeon was quick to correct her. You sigh mentally, wishing you could just tell him how you feel, yet another part of you thinks that he knows and that he’s just been ignoring your shameless flirtation. You would never be able to recover from the humiliation of him rejecting you, nor would your heart be able to take the defeat so you settle with being friends, for now—

You behave yourself and eat the food you both ordered in peace, you’d never allow yourself to cross that line; because real life isn’t like the books you read, the images and dreams you have, and people aren't what you make them out to be. You knew this.

You always looked at the people in your life as the potential they can be, and not for who they truly are. You’ve learned the hard way when you’ve been met with disappointment and a broken heart one too many times. But you couldn't help it, you couldn't help but see people for what they could be, and that in itself shows just how vulnerable you are. You were susceptible when it came to someone else’s feelings and always tried to be as thoughtful and empathic to how someone feels and why they are the way they are, thus making excuses as to their actions.

But then again, you did set up that unrealistic expectation of him long before you had even had a conversation with him. The inner hopeless romantic in you who thinks of life as the galaxy, people as balls of sunshine, and earth as a huge ball of fluff with people who have the potential to be the sun, and the stars.

The man right in front of you….

Man

Slopingly eating away at his burger, he was the sun in your solar system. You’d like to think he has his own planet, beautiful and soft like him. Maybe on his planet lived cats like Mr. Snuggle Fur and had tulip fields every couple miles you’d walk down it. Water as clear as glass, blueish-green colour, and maybe people as cute and kind-hearted as Jungkook, that resided on that planet. Even though the way he usually dressed was the entire opposite of how he was, you hoped that at least the way you imagined him was just as beautiful as his plant

“Are you gonna finish that?” Jeon asks, pointing to the half-eaten burger you were gonna end up taking home, but with one look at his big doe-eyes you end up pushing the plate towards him. His face instantly brightens, taking a bite out of the burger with a grin on his face.

He was your favourite planet you’ve decided.

“Thanks,” he smiles, mouth stuffed full of food, you giggle dismissing him with a hand wave. You get the waiter to bring back the check and you see Jungkook’s eyes widen when you pass the card over.

“What are you doing?” his voice is surprised, loud. You grin at him.

“You’ll get the next one,” you simply reply, paying and packing the leftovers. Jeon scoffs, giving you a pout. “I don’t mind paying when it comes to you, as you’ve noticed” you tease and he gives you a playful glare.

A stare that tells you not to go there, and your heart squeezing tightly in your ribcage.

“Let’s get you home, it’s getting late” He walks out, and you trail behind him with a soft smile. Your hearts hurting already.

—

Now back home you decide on a quick shower and to sleep in a t-shirt 4 sizes too big, courtesy of the cheap Walmart men's section. You sigh on your bed, scrolling through the contacts on your phone until you decide to stalk Jeon on Instagram. It was something that you did often, something that was a part of your nightly routine actually- before you would go to bed you would stalk his Instagram account. It was aesthetically pleasing, pictures of him on his motorcycle, or in his garage fixing cars. It was mainly black or white themed–that bad boy dark aesthetic. Occasional pictures of his Doberman running through the grass, and him kissing his mom on the cheek in what looks like a Christmas dinner, with the table set, and a tree in the background.

You smile, the warmth of bubbles brew up in the pit of your stomach, and butterflies erupt inside you tugging on the veins that pump the blood into your heart and down your body. You had such hopeless feelings, ever since he fixed your car at the mechanic shop that night back from your parent's house- you’ve always come back to him. That night he had given you food and his large grey denim jacket to keep you warm while he fixed the boot crack of an engine that you had. You felt oddly warm and safe, even though he was a complete stranger at the time. He joked and talked to you, even drove you home that night in his car because he needed to order some parts for your engine.

Not to mention he was also completely and utterly hot, so handsome to the point that you think you would die from staring at him for too long, and oh god- oh god his smile was the most divine, heartwarming, pussy clenching, adorable thing in the world. Little bunny teeth, plump bottom lip, faint red-tinted lips stretched into an up-pull direction. God, you were down bad.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

You were back at the auto shop, much to Jungkook’s and your bank account's dismay. Only because he didn’t like you spending money on unnecessary fixes, he knows how anxious you get when your car so much as makes a squeak— scared of getting into an accident with the old junk. Jeon was always expecting you to come by the shop at least once a week, this time complaining about how the wrench he let you borrow wasn’t turning the tinned-covered canister in the engine. Helping you replace it again, he sends you off—curtly nodding his head while you wave, your wide eyes, starry.

They were two brown orbs that he has grown accustomed to, grown used to watching his every move and sometimes let it slip down his body on a hot summer day when he has his frame out of his tank top, or his legs free from the confinements of his overalls. He likes teasing you most times when he invites you to sit on a stool and talk to him while he fixes parts–manoeuvres around the car to assemble, and dismantle. Sometimes he curls his biceps slightly in front of you, tightly wrapping his hand around a wrench that did not need that much force whatsoever. You got flustered easily and he loved to see you pat down the warmth of your hue-tinted cheeks, or hum along to the song all of a sudden—all an act to calm down your beating heart he thinks.

He knows your act of coming here to the shop is to secretly ogle at him, you shamelessly letting out the crush you have on him in other forms—which is pretty obvious anyways—but Jungkook doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t want to embarrass you. Plus he loves your company, and your rambling about your co-workers, the food you bring in, and Mr snuggle Paws or whatever the name of your cat was—he appreciated it all. He valued the friendship you both have seemed to build throughout the months. You were a very wise, smart, beautiful woman—and he’d be damned to think he’s never seen you in that light. You were sexy, yes. But he’s never let his imagination broaden outside the area of this auto shop, the barricades on his heart work extra hard to block out the cute sounds of your giggles, or the way your hand comes up to part your soft curls behind your ear— and the way you ramble about random things in hopes to entertain Jungkook while he works— he found all of these things about you endearing and adorable. This is part of the reason why Jungkook had not tried to initiate a move, a hangout, or anything more than the friendly and respectful hug he parts you with whenever you leave the shop, or whatever restaurant you both choose to eat at once in a while.

You were dangerous for his heart, he can feel the barbed wires he put on them years ago-loosen from time to time and it only happens in your presence, and the only time he felt the flutters in his stomach and the pulse in his heart quicken was with his ex. The one who has humiliated him broke him and made him barb up his heart to be a clueless fucker who has no hope, no expectation, no interest in love anymore. He didn’t believe that loving someone was enough for anyone, just love is never enough. No one in his eyes had the potential to be worthy of him, but there’s you. You who he thinks may have the potential, maybe. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t want to discover it. He doesn’t want to expect anything from you because he thinks you’ll disappoint him, he thinks that there’s no point if it’s all going to end in the grand scheme of all things.

Jungkook only fucks, that’s what allows him to satisfy himself and protect his heart, it works for him. Clearly, you are not looking for that, you’re not looking for a quick fuck and he’d rather keep you as a friend than lose you, it is comfortable the way things are now. He knew eventually that you would crack and tell him your feelings, but he only hoped it wasn’t going to be anytime soon. Plus, you deserve better, you deserve better than Jungkook who is 1) a pessimist; he sees the negatives of life, and his thinking is cynical, very opposite from yours. You’re a better person than Jungkook, you see the good in people and think that anyone “bad” can change, and can be “fixed”. But Jungkook didn't want to change, nor did he want to be fixed. Jungkook wanted to be Jungkook…unguarded and free. He didn’t like all that vulnerability shit, he didn't want any of that soft stuff, and he did not want that level of emotional intimacy with anyone ever again. No, he didn’t want that, no one nor you or anyone else can change his mind.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Oh,” you're dejected, nodding your head at Jimin, Jungkook’s coworker. He told you that Jungkook wasn’t working for the rest of the week, and you now regret not texting him first rather than showing up unannounced and as much as you claim that any amount of money that you spend on Jungkook is worth coming to see him for, you should’ve thought rationally—the gas money it took you to get here from the office was at least worth a brand new pair of work pants from Zara. Smiling softly at Jimin, you bid him a farewell, walking out feeling your embarrassment from your heated skin, almost tripping on your feet on the way out with your head hung low from disappointment.

“…” You hear your name, the gentle voice had a slight rasp to it this time and slowly your heartbeat quickens as your eyes look up from his combat boots to his face. He was fitted in black cargo pants and a black tee, the black ink also standing out with a new print behind his elbow. You don’t comment on it yet though, your eyes swell up from smiling real hard and at him. The bag you had in your hand came into view and you saw his eyes flick down to the greasy takeout boxes from his favourite restaurant.

“Jeon, Hi!” you chirp a little loudly, after a beat of silence he breaks into a smile. But his eyes widened again, a little look of guilt, or was it confusion you didn’t know but you broke the awkward silence by holding up the bag again.

“I thought you were working today and brought some food, I-i’m sorry I probably should have texted you first, but I didn’t want to-” you stop, huffing at your own ramble and Jungkook’s eyes seem to puff up, his grin widening from ear to ear and that seems to calm you down, it brought some sort of comfort to your erratic heartbeat. Oh god, it was beating so hard you just wished he didn’t see it beating out from your chest. Because for one he looks extremely beautiful outside of his work outfit, and two his smile just seems to always brighten up your days. After all, he was a whole beautiful galaxy in your eyes.

“Ahh I wish you texted me I-” he stuttered, walking past you to reach the little cupboards in front of the office you just bided Jimin goodbye from. His voice was a little rushed as he grabbed his forgotten wallet from his desk and stood back in front of you.

“I- I’m going out right now and”

“Jungkookie” a voice interrupts him and you can see the look of horror in his eyes flashing with shame and terror. You give him a confused look, you didn’t know why you read that frenzy expression on his face, and why it was there. Until a girl appears through the doors of the garage and you see him shut his eyes when she grabs onto his bicep, looking over at you.

“Did you find your wallet?” she asks and you blink up, your heart clenching at the tight grip she has on his arm. You don’t let it show though, you knew that deep down Jungkook had girls lining up for him, he was just that kind of guy. You twist the bag back behind your frame and Jungkook’s eyes flick from your hands to your eyes, he’s watching you carefully as if he was concerned about you.

“Yeah, yeah I did,” he says, clearing his throat awkwardly. The woman was beautiful, she had long blonde hair, clad in a cute red sundress that showed off her well-built long legs, and her bright smile that could probably light up anyone's world, maybe it already lit up Jungkook’s world, just like his own smile did to yours.

“Oh hi, Celeste” she introduces herself, and outstretches her hand, you shake it, giving her a wide smile. You didn’t want Jungkook to know that slowly your heart was tugging apart inside, and that bile was probably rising up and had the sudden urge to vomit out your stomach's contents of breakfast and coffee.

“…” you introduce yourself and Jungkook gives you a tight lip smile his nystagmic eyes missed nothing, but you also avoid them, avoid his being while Celeste beams about the garage and the random Corvette that’s being fixed up. Easing into some easy-going conversations, and more small talk about the party they're going to attend after, meanwhile, your heart clenched and twisted with a wicked feeling of jealousy, eyes zeroing in on her hand on Jungkook’s bicep. It looked natural like it was the millionth time she was doing this and you didn’t how much longer you could take it, seeing him with someone else.

“I- ’m going to go now, I hope you guys have a good time at the party,” you uttered after you all chatted for a while, and Jungkook’s eyes softened at the tight expression on your face–a lacklustre smile on your lips, he can see right through you, he knows you're disappointed, upset- but not angry.

“Wait, you should totally come, it’ll be a good time,” she suggests and you flinch slightly, looking over at Jungkook who gives you a tight smile, almost as if he was uncomfortable with the idea because his lips primed, and his brows knitted into a frown. You chuckle uneasily, waving your hand in a dismissive way before turning your head away from them a moment.

“Oh c’mon, it’ll be fun and if you know Jungkookie here im sure you’ll get along with the others at the party” You almost vomit from the nickname, the very cute and intimate nickname that falls from her mouth naturally, her hand rubbing his bicep in a soothing manner. Your face heats up from frustration and embarrassment because Jungkook clearly did not want you to accept yet you open your mouth to accept, giving Jungkook one last glance that has you nervously nipping at the bottom of your lip.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

You're on the sidewalk, nervous and jittery from entering the three-story home overflowing with people inside and out, bobbleheads scattered all over the top terrace to the front yard. Red cups are held in everybody’s hand, either filled with alcohol or any pop of their choice, but the way drunken bodies move and shout has you thinking of the latter option. Your bottom lip is tucked underneath your teeth, bare legs stuck to the ground as you contemplate the house, you didn't know what you were doing here, to be honest.

Jungkook definitely did not want you there, you were absolutely terrified of entering this stranger's party, and Celeste was probably just trying to be nice by inviting you yet you had bitter feelings towards her. What were you trying to prove? Show Jungkook that you were better than her, dressed into a tight crochet dress you’ve decided to borrow from your friend, about to step into a sea of people you didn't know and the only person that did– clearly showed his disinterest in wanting you there.

The look on his face showed his frustration and apprehension in not wanting you at the party as if he had something to hide, but that gave you all the push to come, maybe prove to him that you are as cool and as beautiful as Celeste. You wanted to mingle with his friends and converse with others to show Jungkook that you could fall in with his crowd.

Underneath all the nervousness and stress you are feeling, you feel a little brave and confident in the quite revealing, short dress, hair locks cascading down your back with glittery makeup on to emphasize your features. You hoped that if you were to approach Jungkook tonight that he would drop his mouth open, maybe discreetly look you up while you talk and enjoy yourself. You just want to show Jungkook how cool you could be, you could show him what he could have instead and in a perfect world, he would finally realize his feelings for you and come running to hug your waist and bury his boyish face into your neck, telling you how much he loves you.

But this isn’t a perfect world, clearly when the first thing you see is a girl sitting on Jungkook’s lap on the couch when you walk in, and that girl was not Celeste but rather a brunette wearing a backless top.

Your blink back pathetic tears, as you shift from one foot to the other. You were at a safe enough distance for them not to notice you but you also felt like throwing up, felt your heart shatter even harder than before because of one thing you never thought Of course Jungkook would turn out to be a fuck boy. A boy who flies through girls easily, bedding and dipping fast. What did you expect?

You figured that out by deciding to stay unnoticed at the party for a couple of hours, waiting for a time that he wasn’t occupied with shoving his tongue down someone’s throat. You counted at least 3, 4, maybe 5 women who had successfully approached him to share spit, your breaking point was when he decided to take the last girl upstairs, where the rooms were and you swore you could have met his eyes for a second as well, but you were quick to rush out that door and back into your car, steadying your breathing.

Pathetic of you to think that Jungkook was the soft and sweet boy you thought, you saw him smirk your way when he had the last girl on his lap, probably sensing your gaze on him finally he decided to hook her legs up to his waist and carry her up the stairs, putting a show on for you, it's as if he was mocking you. You could feel your heart detach itself from your chest, tears streaming down the face that you spent beating up the last two hours.

A tiny scoff leaves your lips, mind replaying that stupid devilish smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

He knew what he was doing, clearly.

How naive and in your head, you were to think that maybe just maybe Jungkook would have feelings for you and surely you thought that his actions and kind-heartedness towards you were special but seeing the way he held and softly caressed other girls, playing with their hair–showed that you would never be one of those girls. You want to be more than that though.

He was a good man, he would never intentionally hurt you and you blame yourself for your tears–if only you told him if only you sat him down and talked to him about your undying love. But then again, it’s been months of dropping hints and months of flirting with him surely he would know you had feelings for him? Would he really deliberately hurt you like this?

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Jungkook couldn’t believe that when he woke up the next morning he was still at the party, sweat running down his back and neck making his skin sticky and gross. As he looked around he was all alone in the bed groaning when he saw the pair of panties on the nightstand with a little handwritten note beside him (Call me sometime ;)!) a phone number attached. Grudgingly he got up and threw out the note, grumbling in disgust, he managed to make it out the front door fully dressed, with his car perfectly intact and parked in the driveway. Looking back at the house small memories started coming back to him and your face flashed right through his mind, in that pretty little skimpy dress. Short that it almost flashed your ass with every step you took, catching the attention of all the boys at the party.

He scoffed at the memory, especially when he remembered the way your face broke out into horror every time you saw him with a different girl each time that night. Honestly, he was hoping you hadn’t come to the party just so you didn’t see that side of him. That side of him that he hasn’t matured and grown out of. You were probably hurt you weren't one of them, probably jealous of the girls he had kissed and fucked but he’s glad you weren’t one of them.

He would never disrespect you like that, if he was going to do things with you he would do it right. He would do it right as in take you out on several dates, confessing his love, and hopefully make you his girlfriend by the end of it. That’s the right way, the morally good and safe way to do things. He thinks that’s what you would have wanted, that's what you would have expected from him. But Jungkook doesn’t want that, he doesn’t like pre-planned things, he doesn’t like expectations, nor does he like the idea of being tied down.

But above all Jungkook doesn’t want to hurt you, hurt the fragile soul of yours that preplans and expects and sees the world in all shades of rainbows and unicorns. Call him a little cynical, a pessimist, (he is) but Jungkook likes the unexpected spontaneous nature of life that randomly brang what belonged to him when he needed it. He liked for things to fall in place and although to a certain extent, he should put in some work for what he wanted he knew that he didn’t want anything romantic to do with anyone right now. Maybe he should let you know then to keep letting your hopes up, but something so gut-wrenching and heart-shattering about seeing you hurt that Jungkook didn’t like. He lived to see the colour in your face, your enthusiasm and the way you’d go hours and hours talking about everything and anything.

And since Jungkook is so convinced that you both would be better off as friends than romantic lovers, why does he have this terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach when he doesn’t see you for the next month? He doesn’t get the bubbly feeling and breath knocked out of him when he sees you walk in with one of your sundresses, only disappointment and beer bellies walking into his shop. He sighs, frustration clear on his face while he tightens the bolts on the bottom of the engine.

Jimin takes cautious notice of his mood throughout the weeks, he watched his eyes always flicker to the door whenever the bell chimes and the disappointment that settled into his eyes after, tells Jimin that maybe he’s looking out for a special chatty bird.

“What’s with you?” Jimin asks, nudging him on the shoulder.

“What’s with what?” faux disinterest laced in his tone.

“You have this sadness oozing out of you and I think it may have something to do with our favourite little customer huh?” he says with a grin and Jungkook chuckles.

“Is it that obvious?” he scoffs and Jimin shrugs.

“Yeah I mean, she hasn’t come in a while and your eyes practically jump to the door every time it chimes,” he treads, and Jungkook groans.

“She won’t answer my texts either, nothing” Jungkook sighs, wiping his oiled hands on his overalls.

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing”

“What’d you do Jungkook.”

“Seriously I don’t know, I’m confused myself,” Jungkook sighs.

“Managed to already hurt her feelings?” Jimin treads around the topic, not wanting to anger Jungkook but also get it out of him.

He knows your little innocent crush on his friend here, he knows you come in to fix every little thing (although unnecessary really) just to see Jungkook. He knows how Jungkook rolls, he wouldn’t be into the stuff where you date and do all the sappy shit— he didn’t like expected romance, he was more into hookups and spontaneous fucks something you obviously weren’t made for.

“What you think I did something?” He scoffs and Jimin sighs. “She’s just sensitive, she probably saw me with someone at the party, and I didn’t want her to come in the first place but she did and she ended up seeing shit she didn’t like” Jungkook blurts and Jimin hums.

The truth summarised.

“So really I did nothing, she showed up and she didn’t like what she saw” he shrugs, and Jimin scoffs.

“Why didn’t you want her there?” Jimin asks and Jungkook really wishes he didn’t ask that because he knew the answer. He knew he didn’t want you there because he had a fear of disappointing you and showing you the side of him that he secretly hates, the side where he made out with multiple women and fucked carelessly and to make matters worse he made sure it was in front of you.

Why did he care what you think of him? He doesn’t know and quite frankly he didn’t want to get into that variegated emotions and thoughts because now was not the time. He really thought that the best way of getting you away from him was to hurt you and he knows he did because he saw all the tears slip out of your eyes when you hastily wiped them away at the sight of Jungkook taking another woman upstairs to fuck, he knew by the way you hurriedly scurried out the door in the skimpy little adorable dress that you probably wore just for him.

Jungkook knew what you felt in your heart, you were very easy to read and he wasn’t dumb. You're pretty predictable and now he regrets not walking up to you normally instead of forcing his tongue down a random woman's throat to purposely hurt you.

Why? He couldn't tell you.

You deserved more, he wanted you to know you deserved more and maybe you finally realized that Jungkook was horrible and that it wasn't worthwhile having a crush on him but why does the lack of you in his life sting his heart. Why does it leave a bitter taste on the back of his tongue, and he can’t shake you out of his mind?

Jesus

He knew he grew accustomed to your company, he knew that much was true yet when you didn’t show up to the shop as your bubbly old self and did not answer his texts…. has him feeling like shit.

“I didn’t want her there because that wasn’t her type of thing” he answers after a long pause and Jimin gets busy with his task in hand, screwing up the tire in place.

“Uh-huh,” he said off-puttingly and Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Oh nothing…it’s just that—-You’re a shitty fucking person Jungkook” Jimin chuckles.

“How?” he asks

“Because you’re not honest with yourself, so you end up hurting people for no reason” he shrugs and his shoulder slump.

“You know she likes you, she’s harboured harmless feelings for you over a course of months and she cares for you, yet you end up treating her like shit when she dresses up for you and shows up to a party only to see you deliberately shove your tongue down throats in front of her because you wanted her to ‘back off,” Jimin huffs, air quoting “back-off” with his fingers and Jungkook suddenly feels exposed. A chilling and unsettling feeling rumbled from his chest.

“You don’t even want her to back off, I know you like her back just as much but you just self-sabotage because of your past but guess what Jungkook,” Jimin pauses, hands up to show his frustration.

“ ‘...’ isn’t Sora. You don’t always have to have this facade of smugness and nonchalance. It isn't attractive anymore,” Jimin spat when he finished his job, rubbing his hands with the towel as he walked back into the break room, leaving Jungkook to simmer inside his thoughts.

Damn

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

There is a foundation; eating, sleeping, and the occasional exercise that science proves helps our quality of life. Physically, these are all fundamental elements that help us live a long and fulfilling life (mostly), yet as you grow older and older you no longer depend on your parents to tie your shoes for you and start to form your own perspective on life, and what is most important to you. You realise there is more to life than just being, you no longer want to live for the purpose of living so you go out and find it.

You go out and seek the purpose for what you’ve been placed in this cruel world for, and somewhere along the journey, you start longing and yearning for something that is out of your reach. You create an unrealistic romanticized version of life in your subconscious mind. Outlets such as books, poetry, and movies may portray these very impractical ways of life in such beautiful and, again, (unrealistic) perspectives, which in the end can conflict with your conscious mind when you come face to face with these scenarios in reality and you’re left unsatisfied.

You expect and set life on this high pedestal to only then realize…. that life is much more complicated and disappointing. Depressing even to comprehend just how hard it is to live, just how hard it is to show vulnerability, to talk about feelings–to show them, to love, to accept, to forgive, to grieve.

It’s hard, truly.

That’s what Jungkook thinks you do, he thinks you’re so bubbly and energetic– so hopeful because you think of life as this big cloud of unicorn dust and stars that shine brighter than the sun.

He sees the hopefulness in the roundness of your eyes, and the adoration that they carry; so much adoration. Especially for him, and it scares the absolute shit out of him. He wishes he didn’t see life from a more cynical view, call him pessimistic but Jungkook would rather already have disappointment set into him like a wired robot and expect the worst of every situation than have that hopeful naive stare you have in your shimmery eyes, expecting everything to go the way you make things out to be only to be left pained in the end.

Yeah…hurt and pained.

Jungkook was always hyper-fixated on being disappointed in the grand scheme of all things, and he only believed that he could feel this way. He could only be the one disappointed but when he sees your lone self sitting in the diner you brought him over for lunch a couple of months ago, chewing on a lame piece of fry, eyes tired and looking down into your milkshake he stiffens.

Visibly, Jimin notices and follows his line of vision, eyes landing on your form that carelessly runs through fries and the book you have on your lap. You seem tranquil, a vibe that neither Jimin nor Jungkook can wrap their heads around but when your head lifts up and your eyes scan the room you finally find his eyes. And Jungkook winces at the loss of joy and passion in them for him. It’s like the fire that kept burning in them full of love and hope was lit out. He half expects you to look back down at your book and avoid him, forgetting that you ever saw him but when you shyly wave and shoot him a smile Jungkook doesn’t think but walks towards your booth–which he now realises is the very same one you both sat in the last time.

“Hey,” you greet, voice hoarse and still soft. Jungkook was lost just staring at you, his eyes dancing across your dainty figure and locking in on the new tattoo on your forearm. It wasn’t big but it was big enough to notice right away, a cute star with a soft circle ringing around it.

“Hey babe, how’s it going?” Jimin asks concern laced in his voice as your eyes softly crinkle from smiling too hard at the pet name. Jungkook stares, heart beating faster as he hears the tired strain in your voice, you seem sunken and look smaller than before. Your eyes don't shine as bright and the glee in your voice was gone.

“Oh I got my car broken into, and my phone was stolen so sorry I didn’t see any of your messages” You blush lightly, your voice growing softer at the end. That explains why you haven’t answered any of his texts and why you didn’t return any of his calls. But he was still trying to figure out what had happened to your energy.

“You taking care of yourself?” Jungkook finally speaks up and your eyes look back and forth,` unable to hold the contact as you clear your voice and look away.

“Yeah, im doing well” You muster a smile and gesture for both of them to join you in the booth.

….

You exchanged your new number with Jimin and Jungkook, walking out of the booth after catching up. You decided to sell your car and invest in another you told them.

The cold breeze of the air kicks in as the moon farewells the sun— and darkness completely takes over the swirl of orange and pink that has painted the sky. Jimin wishes you both a good night and Jungkook lingers a bit longer by your car, looking at you.

“Let me drive you back home” he suggests with a small smile, “You’ve had some drinks” he explains and you chuckle lightly.

“Uhh it’s pretty far Jungkook, how would you get back?” you ask and Jungkook takes the keys from your hand.

“I'll bus back” He smiles and you nod, heart fluttering a million times harder inside the tight confinement of your chest.

Missing Jungkook was an understatement, you’ve done nothing but flaunter your interest in him and shower him with all your attention and love in the past. All you wanted was for him to either reject you or accept you. He was confusing, and although deep down your love for him rapidly grew like wildfire in your heart, the same love that he had shrugged off. The same love that he takes advantage of and deliberately strung along just for his own vile entertainment and pleasure, just for his ego to be nourished from time to time again is the same love…… that realized that you deserved better.

In the grand scheme of all things you had realized that Jungkook could never give you want and need, he won't ease your heart by reassuring you nor would he give you the love you deserve, the stability you deserve.

And instead of wasting your time chasing after him, who clearly has different motives and different goals for his future, you decided to finally set him free, take a step back, and explore other options in your life.

The least you could do to guard your heart against his cruel ways.

When you’re cute coworker started taking interest in you, you decided to go on a few dates with him over the past month. You weren’t official yet but he made you happy, he truly did. He was the softest most kind-hearted boy, that’s what you used to think Jungkook was or wished he was like.

You idealized Jungkook, you’ve built such unrealistic standards of him and put him on the highest pedestal that you could possibly find. The tattoos, his body, and luscious raven hair were all a blinding vision, all romanticization.

And you feel guilty for doing that, which is why you had stopped coming to see him for a while. You had to clear your mind and stop being a delusional little 13-year-old. You’re a grown 25-year-old woman who has a career, and a promising future. You wanted to get married have children and do the unimaginable most basic cliche things in between. You realized that waiting around for Jungkook would set you back.

This doesn’t mean you regret the past year of pinning and being whipped after him, you genuinely had a fun time but the sooner you realized the harsh reality, the softer the blow would be, and you wouldn't have to go through a traumatic heartbreak. Or you hoped.

The ride to your house is ghost quiet, only the bustling horns of cars and skyline and street lights illuminate the car, casting a beautiful shimmer onto his face. The soft tune of Sabrina Claudio playing on the radio, humming along quietly as you look out the window.

“Time will be frozen….for us” you sing lowly, and Jungkook takes a second to look at your side profile, a smile growing on his lips.

“You have a nice voice,” he compliments and you giggle shyly, staying quiet and humming along some more.

You soon arrive at your condo, he parked your car in the garage. You invite him over for some food and made some pasta for the both of you silently eating on your kitchen island, conversation flowing slightly awkwardly with little pauses in between to rack your brain for topics. You could tell he was treading carefully, tentatively and hyperaware. You can see it in the way he speaks between pauses, and actions so timid it’s so unlike him.

“This dress is really pretty,” his hands tug lightly at the laces on the end, skimming your upper thigh lightly. You smile, patting the short piece of fabric down your thighs and Jungkook licks his lips. Eyes land on the white lace garter around your left thigh, catching a sight of it by accident when you hike it up your thigh.

He raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat as you lightly smirk. Suddenly the tensions in the air change, and you lean in closer.

“Thanks, I got it as a gift last week,” you smile, absentmindedly sighing at the way Yoongi bought you the dress to wear for their date, he was supposed to come over later tonight, so you desperately wished to get rid of Jungkook as soon as possible.

“Are you going to bus back soon, it’s getting late,” you move your body away from his, taking the opportunity to clean the dishes while putting space between the two of you. He lingered confused, staring at you intently as if in deep thought, you can see from your peripheral vision. All of a sudden the air around the both of you got thick, and your heartbeat picked up as soon as he came around beside you, helping you dry the dishes.

“Why am I not welcome anymore?” He jokes, setting the plates down on the drying rack. He slowly trails behind you, trapping both of his arms on either side of your body, leaning his head in slowly and you anticipate the feeling of his body flushed against you but it never comes. Jungkook paused, too busy staring at the bruising mark on your neck, his heart twisting uncomfortably.

Were you seeing someone? Is that why you stopped coming to see him for the past couple of months? He feels anger rising but subdued when you turn around, face inches away from him.

“What are you doing?” You ask and Jungkook scoffs, a bitter chuckle escaping his mouth as he takes a step back.

“If you want me to leave because your little boyfriend’s coming soon, you could’ve just said so” he tuts, and your eyes widen.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you say defensively, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Jungkook crosses his arms, mockingly mirroring your pouty lips, “You don’t have to be so coy, just tell me to leave,” he says, and your eyes widen, your patience running thin as your blood boils in anger.

Who did he think he is?

Jungkook wanted you to tell him to leave, he wanted to prove a point. Show yourself that you still like him still. But what surprised him was the little smirk on your face, your arms suddenly crossing over to mirror his own and the way you gesture to the door with a tilt of your head.

This was it? Had you truly moved on…? Isn’t this what Jungkook wanted all along though? Why was his heart shattering inside his chest and the air suddenly felt warmer and thin around him?

Why was the new glint of realization and unhinged gleam in your eyes bothering the fuck out of him. God damn it your eyes shined so much brighter and glowed a thousand times shinier than the moon could have whenever you saw him.

That used to always put his heart at ease, feeling wanted, he loved being desired. Especially when you would stare at him for hours and trace the tattoos along his arms, buy him food and talk his ear off.

Why was that all gone from the look in your eyes, he felt the coldness in your stare probably caught on to the arrogance his words held, and the smugness he carried himself with.

So he’s surprised when he hears what he hears next.

“Please leave Jungkook, I have someone coming over,” you smile.

You didn’t let him get what he came for, you didn’t let him shatter your self-confidence, nor did you let him fill you with self-doubt. You're a changed woman….

——

Min Yoongi was a special man, a special man that held a special part in your heart. You’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months, and ever since he asked you to be his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago you’ve been head over heels.

Driving him crazy by drowning him in kisses, and hugs, making him food at unprecedented times of the day and taking it over to him at the university he teaches at.

He was a physics professor, at the age of 30 living in a downtown complex just half an hour away from you(depending on traffic) and although the way you met was kind of unconventional you both had hit it off quite well.

He was the kindest, sweetest man ever, always so thoughtful of you, always treating you with the utmost respect and kindness you deserve. Ever since the last night you’ve seen Jungkook a month ago, the memory of him started fading away slowly, your heart healing and filling your mind with new and fonder memories.

Like right now, sitting on Yoongi’s lap while he inspects your broken laptop, trying to fix the crashed document for you.

Smiling at him you hear him groan and you coo, kissing his cheek multiple times while he shuts down your computer again to refresh it.

“Baby, I think you need a new computer,” he sighs, taking off his glasses and finally giving you the attention you’ve asked for all night.

You kiss his lips, holding the sides of his face gently while he giggles. “It’s okay, as long as I have you,” you smile stupidly and Yoongi feels his chest tightening with love, butterflies pooling at the bottom of his stomach.

“Plus you can just use my computer for the time being,” he suggests and you nod, burying your head in the solace that was his neck, relaxing the rest of the afternoon in his embrace.

——

“Jimin, your customer is here to pick up his Audi,” Jungkook calls in from the reception area, sharing a brief smile with the young man dressed in a sharply tailored suit, raven hair and mullet cut. He was shorter than him and scrawnier but nonetheless, you could see his biceps buff and curl into the stretched material of his dress shirt.

Jimin wipes the grease off his hands and onto his jumper, breaking out into a big grin as he shakes his hand. “Ahh Yoongi, good to see you,” he beams and Yoongi bows politely.

“Enough is my car fixed? No more leakage diarrhea?” He jokes with a quizzed eyebrow, earning a chuckle from him.

“Nah no more liquid shit, let me show you,” he takes him to his car and Jungkook shakes his head with a smile on his lips. He had helped fix the diarrhea problem in the Audi, almost in the shop for a month as they had to wait for a piece they ordered to come. Apparently, his girlfriend has been giving him rides to work and back for the past couple of weeks.

Jungkook washed his hands, running a hand through his now short hair, and eyes trained on his phone, checking out the new sneaker shop downtown to try and visit and get Jimin a gift for his upcoming birthday.

He’s throwing a pool party at his parent's mansion, them being gone for the next couple of weeks. He booked a dj, and bartender and Invited a shit ton of people because according to his own words:

“You only turn 25 once, that’s halfway to the 50 and wrinkly old man that I’ll be” He justified his expensive irrational blow of money.

“Yoongi!” Jungkook hears, he knows this voice way too well. Familiar with the soft rasp to it, and the kindness of every syllable, he regrets it but he looks up. Finding you clad in a beautiful yellow sundress, the one that you wore that one time you came to visit and bring him lunch, ready to spill about the contents of your day to him.

Your eyes hold a little surprise to them when you spot him and Jungkook wished the whole world swallowed him whole while he stared at you his heart started wildly beating, a specific clench on the left side as he regards your beautiful self.

You have a life back in your eyes, a certain light and beam in the shines of your irises and his mind switches into a hopeful thought before he sees you look behind him and wave at the young gentlemen through the glass, talking to Jimin.

You look back at him, a certain softness to your eyes as you regard him and walk up closer. “It’s been so long Jeon, Hi,” you say, and Jungkook gulps when he waits for a beat longer to respond; stunned that you are really here, standing here talking to him, especially after the last time you both spoke.

“I’m good,” he responds, eyes glancing between your eyes and lips, then at the tattoo on your forearm. The little star with the winged circle, he assesses it, never had a chance to ask you about it. You slipped through his fingers faster than he would’ve liked.

You nod, a frown replacing your face when he looks back at his phone, trying to ignore your presence. But really his heart was beating way too fast for his liking, heart clenching in pain and longing….regret.

You disappointedly turn away, a smile right back on your face when Yoongi comes back out with his car keys, he pulls you into his embrace, lingering a kiss on the top of your head.

Jungkook notices this and blinks owlishly.

What did he fucking miss?

“‘….’” Jimin says your name, a surprised gasp leaving his lips when he sees the interaction and in a split second he sends a knowing look to Jungkook, a smirk attached to his gaze.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and continues to watch you catch up with Jimin, blabbering about life and decisions and thinking of moving into the city. He didn’t really hear much because his gaze was on the way your handheld Yoongi’s thumb, squeezing it lightly in nervousness he thinks because you used to do that with him a lot. He grows more irritated when he sees the way you subtly lean your head onto his bicep and seek warmth and comfort in his embrace. Your eyes look everywhere and when they meet him again Jungkook decides to not look away holding your gaze with a pained look on his face you decide to send him a small smile and look away, leaning into Yoongi even further which makes Jungkook furious.

“I’ll send you the address, and don’t bring gifts, it's a no-gift birthday party,” he raised a finger in a warning and you giggled with a roll of your eyes.

“Whatever you say,” you sing, and leave hand in hand with Yoongi once you all exchange goodbyes.

Silence overtakes the garage, Jungkook’s eyes stay on the door that you just left from and finally looks away when Jimin chuckles—throwing an arm over Jungkook’s shoulder.

He sighs dreamily, rather dramatically Jungkook thinks, “If only you weren’t a fucking asshole that could’ve been you, lover boy,” he slaps his shoulder and Jungkook raises his arm, pushing Jimin off but he runs away with a squeal before Jungkook could slap him.

He comes back after a fit of giggles, “But man I hope you're okay,” he says more seriously giving Jungkook a sad smile.

“I’m fine,” he shrugs, showing indifference but the beating of his heart and the croak in his voice betray his words.

——

A beer in hand and other on his phone as he mindlessly scrolls through his feed, he enjoys the bustle outside of the party and the serene calm sound of waves crashing against each other at the terrace of Jimin’s parent's room.

The party had started a couple of hours ago, not even halfway there as people mingle and talk. He even spotted you, a cute little two-piece clad on your curves. They had little sunflowers on them, small pathetic excuses of triangles covering your nipples but he could imagine the perky pebbles in his face as they erected through the material. The bottom half had a cute see-through mini skirt as a cover-up that covered the bikini yet exposed everything at the same time.

You looked really good, and when you found his gaze you had sent him a small smile waving a little. But he had looked away escaping out to the terrace to stop himself from thinking about you. To bask in his own misery.

He couldn’t take the sight of you lovingly sitting on Yoongi’s lap, playing with his hair while he conversed around, a beer in his hand while he sat sprawled out on one of the lawn chairs. You had those love-sick eyes that he loved seeing yet he only realized he loved them when they were on him.

You whispered and kissed him lovingly, giggling into his neck as his hands held your hips.

Was he really that fucking funny?

He watched the way he teasingly released the strings on the side of your bathing suit and you gasped and slapped his arm away, quick to tie it back up.

He wished it were him.

Fuck,

He wished he didn’t fuck up, yet here he is fucking up even the friendship you possibly could have had but he cold-shouldered you every time you try and show any kindness, or start a conversation.

He sighs laying on his back while his bicep covers his eyes from the blaring sun, trying to clear his thoughts away from you. He needed to stop thinking of you before he tried to jump off the terrace…

It was indeed an enticing idea at this moment.

Limbs barely contained himself at the mere thought of you having him wanting to torture himself in all kinds of ways. And when he feels the weight of the door to the terrace close shut, a heavy sigh escapes him ready to tell the person occupying his peace to fuck off.

But the words die inside his throat and shove back down into his esophagus when he sees you standing there with a credulous look on your face. Your dainty bikini and mesh skirt that barely covers anything flows with the wind, and your hair also blows in the direction the gust is coming from.

You look ethereal Jungkook thinks, standing there all meek with a guilty look on your face, looking prettier than ever and that’s when he catches himself slipping, a smile almost etched himself onto his lips and he’s quick to turn away and clear his throat.

A practiced scowl takes over and he looks back at you again.

“What?” He asks, he even grimaces when it comes out a bit more aggressively than he intended to, and he feels his heart tug at the pained expression on your face.

He was angered all of a sudden, it was because of your presence that he was escaping the pool and when he finds you here again it just did something to him.

All the feelings and constant regret, the doubts and fears, what if’s all clouding his mind in an array of emotions either through sadness and agony, or jealousy and anger.

He decided that he feels both when it comes to you, he feels everything when it comes to you and he hates himself for the wrong timing of his realization because Jungkook is beyond repair, and damaged the foundations of your friends so easily, what makes him think he had a chance to get to any level of a relationship with you now that he’s acted like such an asshole towards you?

Jeon Jungkook, ladies and gentlemen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt I just wanted to get the donut floaty…” you trail off and your face suddenly starts getting warm from the embarrassment you feel from the exaggerated bored expression on his face. If a look could make you cry, it would be the one on his face right now.

“Or never mind I’ll come back for it-” You turn around and roll your eyes.

“You can grab it, I don’t care,” he says, laying back down on his back, glancing up at the clear sky.

You mutter out a weak ‘okay’ and quickly dig through the pile of junk in the corner near Jungkook’s chair.

Fuck, Jungkook thinks taking a glance at you only to see you bent down, ass puckered out, bikini barely covering your nether region and he uses all the strength in him to look away.

“Can you find it any faster?” He grumbles, getting up to help you search for the damn floaty just so you can get out of here and he doesn’t have your presence interrupting his sulking thoughts…. of well…..you.

“I got it Jungkook you can sit back down,” you sigh, and he mutters curse words underneath his breath cursing whichever wicked person decided to let the fucking universe let this moment happen.

Once you find the floaty Jungkook also realized he’s also grabbed a part of it, bringing it up at the same time as you, and it’s when you face him that he notices the close proximity between the both of you. You have a sharp stare aimed right at him and Jungkook moves in closer, eyes challenging yours while he slowly bends down to your level.

You breathe out a scoff when he’s near and Jungkook licks his lips, and it’s as if time freezes when he sees the same action of your tongue darting out that he has a small spark of hope lit off inside of him. The hurtful want in his heart tugging him towards you until he’s breathing you in, eyes casting down your face until the worst thing he deemed to be in the ENTIRE WORLD happens.

“Baby did you find the float!”

Your boyfriend calls out, voice closer to the terrace and you scramble away from Jungkook, pushing at his chest gently while you manage to grasp the floaty in your hands.

“Yes Yoongi I’m coming,” you yell back, pausing at the door for a moment and Jungkook hopes with his whole heart that you turn around. Because if you do then the spark of hope in him…will ignite, it will give him the courage to try again.

But when you linger around longer than usual he sees you walk off without turning back for a single glance his way.

Damn.

———

Jungkook doesn’t see you for the next couple of months, randomly only getting updates from you on your Instagram that he stalks way too often than he should be. It was a guilty pleasure of his reality, it was his way of checking in on you without having to text you and he thought it was safer that way.

It was safer for his heart, and to save himself from embarrassment. But when Jungkook got off the clock today, showered and ready in bed to continue with his daily stalking, he noticed something different on your page. Something was missing and after staring at it for so long he realized the annoying lovesick hand-holding and disgustingly cute couple picture you had up of you and Yoongi—we’re all gone. Not even that you had taken down all your selfie picture he would stare at for hours, but that didn’t kill his mood.

He was so beyond happy to see that maybe- just maybe you and Yoongi had broken up. Why else would you take down those photos? And every other selfie you had posted between the time period of you two dating. He wonders what’s changed, eager to know what had happened but Jungkook takes this as a sign from god and decides to send you a simple text, something not out of the ordinary. Maybe he shouldn’t consider how things went the last couple of encounters he’s had with you but what can he do?

The only girl he’s ever truly loved and cared for had finally learned her worth and moved on from him.

Ironic of him, truly

Wow he really was a shitty person.

To put things in that perspective Jungkook winces at the way he treated you, he strung you along, embarrassed you, and you took a strike to your dignity because of him.

He claimed that was because he wasn’t ready, or that his past relationship had haunted him, but really…Jungkook loved the attention. He loved it so he sometimes indulged in it, not really thinking about how it would have affected you in the long run.

You: ‘Sorry who is this?’

Had you really deleted his number?

JayKay: ‘It’s Jungkook’

You: ‘Oh uhh… sure we can meet up

His heart races in his chest, cheeks blazing as he finally gets to see you again. Maybe he’d apologize.

Hopefully.

JayKay: ‘Tomorrow I get off at noon, come by and we’ll grab some lunch :)?’

You: ‘Sure’

Jungkook can only hope that you accept the apology that he provides and hopefully his heart.

——

How Jungkook finds himself buried between your legs, your hands wrapped into his black locks while he madly eats at your cunt, he has no idea. But he sure does love the way you whine and sing soft moans out for him, head thrown back while you try and stay seated on the passenger seat of the car he was currently fixing, kneeling on the floor, legs half out the door and on his shoulders.

Shit, he didn’t know his form of apology would come in this way.

But it just happened.

He holds your thighs open, tongue dipping out to softly lick and tease your folds, come back up to see your cunt spread open, flushed and glistening with his saliva spread so good, he groans.

“God I’ve been wanting to know what you tasted like for so long,” he groans, eyes still admiring his coat of spit on your warm cunt.

“Oh please Jungkook,” you moan, and he smiles coming up to quickly peck you as he gathers the saliva around his teeth, mouth pouting out a spike of spit and it lands straight onto your clit.

“Oh yes!” you pant, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel the spit run down your cunt and onto your ass. Jungkook dives right back in, taking both his hands to spread open your folds and nudge his tongue in, shaking his head to also nose at your clit. Your legs shake at the intense pleasure and all of a sudden you feel the sudden knot in your lower stomach form.

“Oh fuck yes!” You moan out loud, and Jungkook takes this opportunity to come up for air and latch onto your clit, deeming you wet enough to plunge two fingers in. He moved in vampire speed, the soft moans and loud strings of his name only spurring him on, feeling your cunt gush and flutter every few seconds has him riled up in his overalls.

“Needed you for so long, now you're falling apart all over my tongue,” he moans into your cunt, indulging in your taste a little longer until he pulls his fingers out and detaches his mouth from your cunt with one last kiss to it.

“Fuck, stand up” he says with a grin and disheaveled hair, you got up wobbling on your feet and Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist.

He tugs you closer and cups his other hand around your jaw, kissing your lips with a fierce passion that has your stomach turning and aching with want, butterflies fly throughout your bodies and onto each other clashing with the lacklustre of unsaid emotions between you two: ultimately making this moment even more passionate.

Fuck Jungkook thinks, hands now gripping your waist in an attempt to pull you flush against his pelvis and when you whimper into the kiss he detached himself with one final suck on your tongue and a slow bite on your bottom lip, eyes fiercely gazing down into your own.

“Fuckkk you're so pretty,” he whispers, eyes skimming down your face, swollen lips, puffy cheeks and you smile coyly, shyly shoving at his chest for the compliment.

“Come here,” he grins sitting inside the passenger seat of the car, reclining the chair all the way down before he gestures for you to come sit on him.

You throw your legs around his body, straddling him as his hands travel down and grab the flesh of your ass to scoot you closer.

“I didn’t mean my lap babe,” he smirks, and you quirk an eyebrow in confusement, when he manhandles you and drives your legs up higher his body, that’s when you understand and gasp softly.

“A-are you sure?” you ask, concern laced your voice and Jungkook grins, licking his lip as he aligns you over his face, your knees digging into the headrest space that’s available, arms grabbing the ceilings of the 4x4. When he nods in encouragement and you hesitate he delivers a slight smack to your clit making you jolt forwards but he knew you like it when a gush of arousal seeps out of you.

“Mmm okay ok, please tell me if I hurt you, I don’t wanna kill you,” you murmur the last part and Jungkook chuckles.

“I’d die a happy man,” he smirk before spreading open your lips with his fingers, tongue darting out to lick and suck at your clit with a surprising pressure and Jungkook chuckles when you jolt forwards.

He buries his hand around the flesh of your thighs and holds you down so you don’t run away. “Ride my fucking face,” he grunts, and you don’t hesitate this time, sitting done properly on his face so that his nose aligns with your clit and your folds aim for his tongue. You breathlessly moan when you start moving up and down, and letting Jungkook bring you closer to your high.

“Feels so good,” you whine and Jungkook continues slurping up your cunt juices making sure to help you grind down on his face to get off.

“Taste”, kiss, “So”, kiss, “Good” he says in between dipping his tongue into your cunt, feeling you pulse and flutter around him and he knows you're close.

“Gonna cum?” he asks and you whine, nodding your head eagerly. You place your fingers in between strands of his hair and slightly angle his face deeper into your clit so he can get you to your end.

Jungkook absolutely loves that you're using him, mouth open wide as he stares into your eyes, stains of tears running down your cheek at the intense pleasure, fuck.

He bucks his hip up to search for any type of release, and then suddenly he feels your legs shake in his grasp, and your head lolling back.

“Oh my god! Yes!” you moan out, riding his face faster and Jungkook braces himself for a couple of seconds to get you off, feeling himself suffocating underneath you, but he lets it happen. His arms loosen around your thighs as you bury yourself deeper into his face.

“Ahh, yes, ohhhh,” you drag out your moans and Jungkook groans against you, hand coming up to smooth over the skin of your thigh in an attempt to lift you off him.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” you flush from embarrassment, feeling the heat on your cheeks sore throughout your whole body. You raise yourself up for a moment, cheekily grinning down at his glistened face. You gasp, flying to gather your shirt that had flown off in the process of this, grabbing it to wipe his face meekly, softly dabbing it onto his skin.

“What are you doing?” he chuckles and you wiggle back down to straddle his thighs, softly placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

You’ve missed him so much.

You let your eyes linger on his features, the same ones that you had imprinted into your own head for months, the same bubbly nose, thick eyebrows, and doe eyes that hadn’t been able to leave your mind for the past year. Even when you were in a committed relationship you couldn’t shake them away, even if you were happy with Yoongi you couldn’t shake him away.

He was one of the reasons why your relationship with Yoongi didn’t work out, amongst others. The guilt was too much, committing to Yoongi when you knew that your heart yearned for another, your mind had that bunny smile plastered in every corner of your mind.

The same pearly whites that he flashes at your curious eyes gazing down his face, and into his eyes.

“What?” he asks and you shake away from your daze, shyly grinning as you hop off his lap to adjust your skirt.

No.

You don’t want to put your heart through the torture of not knowing where you stand with Jungkook, again. You don’t want the uncertainty and all the doubt it comes with being involved with him.

So you take this time to collect yourself and ask him why he had texted you to come over, surely getting sidetracked this way wasn’t on the agenda that much you can tell by the surprised expression on his face and the initial shock on his tongue meeting your own in a fiery kiss when you first came in.

You cross your arms and smooth down your shirt and skirt, “Why did you text me last night?” you asked.

Jungkook properly wipes his mouth and sits up at the edge of the car to face you, eyes blinking cowardly while he racks his brains for a reason, you think. A reason to mask the truth of course because you know him. This is what he does, leading you into the mud until he doesn't need you.

But you want your answer now and you want it fast. You're tired of playing games with him.

After a prolonged silence, you start to sigh heavily and turn away from him making sure to hide away your broken heart and tear welding eyes from his own.

“I missed you alright, I really did” Jungkook blurts, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn around to face him, an expecting look on your face for him to continue, he blinks doe eyes absolutely lost and your brain moving 200km/hour, you can tell.

Chuckling you throw your head back and scoff, “Is it really that hard for you to tell me you like me?” you ask.

Jungkook’s face goes red, not denying or adding to your statement simply standing up to dust his overalls. You cross your arms over each other raising a brow at his silence.

He doesn’t say anything. After a beat of silence, you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief as you walk out of the garage, without a look back and Jungkook gulps back the lump in his throat. Distracting himself with the car he was working on, the car he had just eaten you out on top of, and his heart clenches repeatedly at your expression of disappointment from him.

Forever printed into his mind.

—

“I thought you said this was a frat party, not a crack house” you complain, pulling the bottom of your short dress down with every step you take into the house. Hoseok snorts, hand reaching out for yours and you slip your fingers together.

“Do me a favour and shut up for a minute.” he rolls his eyes, eyes teasingly glaring at you. Reaching the living room, Hoseok finally lets go of your hand, calling over his shoulder that he’s getting drinks for the both of you.

You huff, sitting down on one of the love seats, pulling your phone out. A bunch of hollers and whistles are heard throughout the house but one side of the room drives your attention, glancing at the other side of the huge living space you notice the ping pong games going on. Your eyes curiously dance over to the corner and see a familiar build, he’s shoving his tongue down a girl's throat, a circle of people surrounding them.

You scoff, of course. When said man winks at her and tries to crane his neck, his eyes meet your own briefly, and you look away quickly. You are not surprised that Jungkook’s getting turnt at a random party with yet another woman. Unaffected anymore you look away, Hoseok finally coming back with drinks and you mumble thanks as he sits beside you, and starts conversations with the people around him.

Your eyes lift once more and an even more shocking pair of eyes meet yours and at this, your heart leaps a little, it’s Yoongi looking even more handsome with long jet-black hair, his arms and chest looking buffer than normal. He sports a black button-up opened up with a white tank top, baggy cargo and a chain so shiny you can see your reflection.

“Oh ‘....’, Hello” he smiles, a shaky breath escaping him, you smile so wide, immediately jumping up on your feet to greet him, arms wrapping around his neck and his arms around your frame, pulling you so close to him your feet lift off the floor.

“How’s it going,” You sigh, pulling away.

“Good, calm and peaceful,” he lets you go and you smile.

“Just how you like it huh,” and he chuckles.

“So what, you’re done your placement in New York?” you ask about his job that had stationed him there for a few months, right after your breakup.

“Yeah I finally got a permanent placement here,” he trails off, his arms itching towards you but he wraps them around his biceps instead, crossing them. The obvious instinct to reach out to each other is still fresh, muscles twitching into comfort soothing touches on each other's warm skin. You felt it too, felt your arms reach for his dark locks but had half a mind to control yourself, instead you smile so fondly that your heart squeezes so tightly.

Two lovers who star gazed, spent hours upon hours in each other’s bed, body intertwined, souls intertwined. It’s a bittersweet moment, and you think Yoongi can feel it too, with the way his smile matches your own.

You’ve always appreciated Yoongi, and always will. He was the first person that taught you what love meant, the first person to show you how you should be loved. Perhaps in another lifetime, you two would have been end-game, you think you’d be in love with him so hard. You don’t believe in the right person wrong time, but you sure do believe that Yoongi and you were meant to be in another universe, another era of your life…..if your heart wasn’t already struggling with the feelings of another man, you’d think that Yoongi would've been for you.

—

Jungkook’s eyes stay glued to the way you smile and the way your hands naturally intertwine with Yoongi’s, animatedly talking. Yoongi matched the smile you sport, a gummy smile he reserved for you, otherwise, his eyes were stern, a look so means that people could think he was killing em with it.

The dynamic between you two was weird, you guys seemed as if you have nothing in common, you are so bubbly and outgoing and Yoongi just seems so- unbothered and low energy. Jungkook guesses that you both mesh perfectly despite the differences like you both were end-game even broken up and it has him discouraged.

You looked so happy, and Jungkook cursed under his breath, insecurity and jealousy bubbling inside of him.

“We shouldn’t,” you say, and Jungkook’s ear perks up nicely looking at the way your gaze softly cracks its calm facade, distress clearly on your face as you turn and find his gaze. Yoongi’s head turns his way as well and he has half a brain to look away. You must have said something about him because what is the coincidence of the both of you looking his way at the same time?

He notices Yoongi is not by your side by the end of the night. You get out at the same time as him.

“You good?” he asks, eyes watching the way your frame sways side to side, eyes slightly puffy and glossy, but you still have a smile on your face. Maybe you’re a bit tipsy.

“Yes Jungkook, im good” you sigh, and he doesn’t miss the slight irritation in your voice.

“Good….. that's, good” it falls silent between you both and Jungkook lingers around, staring at your side profile as you type away on your phone. He doesn’t know why he stays around for longer but he talks again, to get the conversation going.

“I was thinking about what you said last time…” he trails off, he wasn’t lying he was thinking about the last conversation you both had, but he didn’t mean to tell because he has no idea where he is going with this.

“Okay,” you respond, eyes trained on your phone as if you didn’t believe him.

“So…yeah” he concludes, sighing deeply when he fails you yet again.

“What did I say last time?” you ask, putting your phone back into your purse.

“I don’t remember saying much for you to think about,” you chuckle, crossing your arms, mirroring him.

“Im sorry,” he swallows and he watches your face break out into an amusing one, scoffing lightly.

“Ok” you blink, and Jungkook’s eyes almost tear up from frustration. He’s good at reading people, and he’s taking your disinterest in this conversation badly. He really knows he’s fucked up, beyond repair.

“Well if you don’t know what you want still,” you pull out your phone, “I’ll be on my way”.

“How are you getting home?” he asks in panic, he needs to have this conversation with you.

“Uber.”

“Let me take you, we can stop by and grab some burgers from-”

“Jungkook,” you sigh defeatedly. Raising an accusatory finger up at his chest you step closer.

“I don't have time for you anymore, you’ve wasted my time over and over again and Im tired of this back and forth between us. You made it very clear you don't want me like that, and I’ve learned to accept it. But you keep hanging on to me, you keep….keep– hurting me.” You whisper the last part and that has Jungkook grabbing your wrist.

“That’s not it, I do want you ‘....’” he sighs and his eyes are teary now, watching you trying to wiggle away from his grip on you.

“You never let me finish talking, there's so much I want to tell you” he sighs, you wipe your tears with your sleeve, pliant in his hold now.

“My intentions were never meant to hurt you, I never meant to make you suffer. I struggled at first, and then you got into a relationship, and now you’re single, I had and still have to respect that.” He takes in a deep breath.

“You wanna know why I broke up with Yoongi Jungkook, you want to know why I’ve left possibly one of the most loving people I’ve met in my life……hmm?” you press, jabbing your finger into his chest and Jungkook stumbles back.

“Because I was in love with a coward! a stupid fucking coward, who couldn't confess back to me all because he wanted to keep fucking around” you yell, voice breaking out at the end, and his fucking heart aches.

Aches cause it’s now that it really hits him how much he has hurt you.

He never intended that, ever.

Fuck.

“‘…’ I-” he says your name but you scoff sharply, chuckling but no humour is found in your tone.

“I thought loving you was supposed to be the best thing ever, but all it’s done is hurt me and I guess it’s my fault for springing my feelings onto a man that doesn’t want them,” you sniff, a weakened smile on your exhausted face and Jungkook breaks.

He grabs your arms to wrap around him, hard tears falling off his own eyes when you bury your head into his chest. It’s like letting a dam go, all this time he’s been keeping you at arm's length for what? Because he’s scared? Scared of committing, scared of disappointing you.

Scared, Scared, Scared.

What a coward.

What a coward Jungkook is.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby I never wanted to hurt you, it was never supposed to be like this….” he says. And all of a sudden he’s angered, frustrated at you. Why did you have to love him of all people,

And why did he have to love you back?

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

3 Years Later

Spring is such a love-hate season. You either enjoy the wildlife and plants, or resent them very, very, much. You're in between the two right now, trying to enjoy the beautiful flowers that grow in your garden, and keeping up with your plant shop that has different lilies and sunflowers sprouting, beautifully— you may add. But as you fail to control your sneezing and red eyes, you decide to pop another allergy pill that may do the trick, you think.

You're just glad that the weather isn't so wet and dull, and well on its way into the warmer season and bikini tops. Sighing lightly you manage to finish your watering and inventory for today, deciding to take your lunch around noon, you lock the shop and put up the lunch sign. There’s a cafe that has just opened down the road and you’ve been wanting to check it out for a while, it keeps coming up on your feed and Hoseok has been bugging you to try it out.

Walking in you take a look around the beautiful shop, it was wooden and green themed, with lots of plants and high ceilings that showcase the sun beaming on the customer's faces. It smelled even more divine as you took in all of the blueberry and raspberry scones on display, chocolate croissants, and the smell of all types of coffee roasts. You are probably the biggest coffee fiend, being able to tell the difference between dark, blonde, and regular roast coffee. It was a gift, but it was also the skills that come along with being an addict.

The man in front smiles at you, “What can I get for you?” he asks and you can't help but beam, ordering every flavour of scones and a matcha latte, your heart already full of happiness from the beautiful array of desserts, making sure to snap a picture at one of the tables and sending it to Hoseok and your mom.

You enjoy your little scones and latte, getting up to grab some napkins at the register-

“Hyung it’s been a while,” you hear the barista address the man at the counter, with a mouth full of the blueberry scone and napkins midway to wiping your lips you take a glance at who he is addressing.

No-

You chuckle lightly to yourself, blinking a couple of times to confirm the face you see and it's more than enough evidence when he speaks, ordering two drinks.

Fuck

You quickly swallow the scone, moving back to your seat and accidentally make eye contact with him on the way of you rush out. You see a flash of recognition twinkle in his eyes yet you fleet fast, and far away back into your shop, basically running down the block like a mad woman.

You don't know why you reacted that way. Maybe it was because you haven't seen him in so long or maybe it was the woman that he had tucked in between him and his arms, a fond smile on his face as he regards her, ordering drinks for the two.

Your heart starts to clench uncomfortably, the night you last saw him replying in your mind.

“I think it’ll be best for the both of us to go our separate ways, Jungkook” You smiled sadly, unravelling from his embrace. You saw the stain on Jungkook’s shirt, salty tears from you seeping onto his skin.

“You should learn to love someone the right way, and when you find that person I hope you’ll treat them the way I would've liked to be treated,” You say, watching the Uber arrive. You reached up on your tiptoes to leave a kiss on his cheek, one that prolonged longer than it needed to and Jungkook can feel the depth of it in his soul, in his heart….slicing through it.

“I will, ‘...’ I will baby,” he swallowed.

That was how you both had ended things over three years ago, you finally grew the balls to block him on all social media, his number, and his face from your mind years ago…. until today. You know you’ve moved on. You have, you have moved into the city finally, opened up your little floral shop with whatever savings you’d have left and fled your boring office job. You loved life, you loved being alone and cropping all day long.

You had developed a new routine, new habits, new crushes, new experiences, new feelings, new friends, and most importantly a new mechanic in all those three years alone. Technically Jimin wasn’t new but you both had gotten closer, common interests and the building you both had lived in had brought you both together. He has become one of the most important people in your life today, and rather than bombarding you with everything that went down with his buddy, he has managed to successfully divert you from the pain. And it was like you didn’t know a Jeon Jungkook.

He had disappeared from the face of the earth because you had forced yourself to forget his existence, and it worked. Until today, until you had to see him today so happy with his girlfriend. Although that makes you happy that he has found someone, that he has matured enough to develop a relationship like that, the feeling had a bittersweet taste on your tongue.

—

“Don’t bring any more pies because I currently have like five of them sitting on my kitchen counter, I beg,” Namjoon complains through the phone.

You chuckle, carefully placing the blueberry pie onto your lap on the passenger seat, “Well that’s what happens when you host a dinner party, Jimin and I are gonna be there in 20 minutes,” you make a kissy sound into the phone before putting it down.

“I bet he doesn’t have a blueberry pie yet,” Jimin chuckles, reversing out of the parking spot and you shrug.

“He said there’s already five pies, three out of those five are probably apple, and the other two are pumpkin” You shrug and Jimin chuckles at your blurt.

“Perhaps,” he says. A frown settles deep onto his face while he drives and you notice it but don't say anything, humming along to the radio.

“I would much rather ditch this for a movie and a greasy burger,” Jimin winks and you roll your eyes.

“Hey, we can’t be rude he prepared dinner and plus I thought it would be nice for us to interact and make new friends.” You pout and Jimin chuckles, a little nervously but you brush it off.

“Okayyyy…. But if you change your mind just let me know we still got a block left” and you giggle slapping his arms playfully.

—

Well fuck….

Grabbing Jimin’s arms before he can zoom past you and into the living room, you hiss into his ear, “Why is he here?” you say interrogatively, and Jimin blushes lightly, wincing from the hold you have on his ear.

“Fuck, im sorry ‘..’ I tried to get you to bail,” he shrugs and you huff, taking your heels off as you scramble past him to greet Namjoon.

Jungkook and his partner are here and you do your absolute best to not get their attention in the huge living room Namjoon has, constantly keeping yourself ten feet away you think you're successful until Namjoon asks, “Oh have you met Jungkook and his fiance?” he pulls you towards them.

The air is knocked out of you as you hear the word fiance, but you collect yourself, your heart weirdly clenching as you make eye contact with them. Namjoon introduces you both and you shake her hand, watching as the beautiful petite woman shyly greets you and makes conversation. You have half a mind to nod and answer vaguely, eyes roaming her small face, plump lips, red hair, dress tightly fitted around her hips and waist perfectly.

“Nice to meet you kyomo” you tightly smile, you can feel the obvious gaze of Jungkook eyes on your face so you turn and greet him as well.

“Jeon,” you nod, and he pronounces your name back.

Namjoon looks between you both, your hand sliding into his smooth one softly as he shakes it slowly. He seems to never look away and you find yourself not being able to do the same.

His hair is short now, and his lips sport a silver ring. He’s wearing a plain black shirt and slacks that make him look mature and put together. You think you can smell his signature cologne on him still, strong and musky, yet soft and gentle just like his face. He’s bigger, broader than you remember and he still has brown doe eyes that expand and sparkle, you always loved to say he wore his emotions in his eyes. You could always just tell from them.

“It’s been a while, how are you?” He asks and you slide your hand from him, taking a step back, glancing away.

“Good, I'm gonna go find Jimin Joon, enjoy your night guys,” You're quick to retreat out of the situation, heading right for the bathroom upstairs and turning on the water. Your lips tremble slightly and your eyes are welled up with tears, why? You don’t know because you have been over him for years now.

You can’t breathe, and you can’t seem to shake away the painful ache in your heart that seems to beat faster and harder just thinking about him now, him getting married, him getting mature, him moving on from you so fast.

He’s getting married, Jungkook is getting married.

“You in here,” you hear your name being called from the other side of the bathroom door, you open it immediately getting pulled into an embrace. Jimin’s arms wrap around your frame as you quietly sob into his shoulder, he knows. He doesn’t ask because he knows.

They always said distance made the heart grow fonder, but you just think that your heart likes to set you up for the worst.

—

The party goes on, roasted dinner praised by everyone and you watch as Joon blushes, telling everyone to keep their voice down. Once finished, everyone heads over to the patio for some drinks and desserts. You offer to clean up, and after much protest Namjoon lets you, and you pat his back in appreciation.

“You already did so much tonight it’s the least I could do.”

Gathering the dishes and throwing out plastic utensils and cups you manage to clear the dining table, you look through the cabinets for a pair of gloves to get started on the dishes, rummaging through cupboards and cupboards.

“I think he keeps them above the stove,” You recognize that voice, and you muster a tight-lipped smile, reaching up to grab it but failing to do so with how high it is.

“Here,” he offers, coming up behind you to open the cupboard and grab them. You shut your eyes tightly and manage a calm facade when he hands it to you, thanking him with a mumble before you put them on.

“You gonna need help?” he asks after a moment of you gathering dishes. Help would be nice, but you wouldn't prefer it from him.

“Nah im good, thanks” you smile, getting to work.

Jungkook chuckles, grabbing a pair of gloves for himself, “Scoot over, I'm helping” he says and you momentarily meet his gaze and look away without a word as he helps you soak and put dishes into the dishwasher.

It’s quiet for a while, successfully cleaning the dishes and loading the bigger pots in the dishwasher.

Jungkook’s staring again, a little awkward so you speak up.

“How long have you been together?” you ask, and you can see Jungkook visibly stiffen.

“Over 2 years now,” he says, and you nod. You make a move to wipe the tables and Jungkook’s coming to help you again.

“I think I’ve got this, you can go and join everyone outside” You turn around abruptly, stopping him in his tracks.

“I thought we could catch up,” he smiles. And you almost scoff out loud, whether you're bitter because of Jungkook’s marriage announcement or the fact that he has the audacity to try and keep things natural between the two of you as if he didn’t break your heart in two….

Maybe the latter but it still hurts. And all of a sudden everything feels fresh like he just left you a day ago, broke you a day ago.

There’s a reason why you both didn’t work out? Was it because of Jungkook incapabilities to communicate or his lack of feelings for you? You don’t know but one thing you do know is that Jungkook never really loved you like he said he did if he wasn’t able to work on his problems for you.

Jungkook never loved you enough

Enough enough enough

You weren’t enough for him and the thought has bile rising up your stomach. It has your heart skipping beats and incredible hurt seizing through you.

You were never enough.

“There’s nothing much to catch up on really, I-”

“I’m sorry for the way things ended,” he sighs, your name slipping past his tongue so tiredly.

“Look, can we just look past this and- and be friends again?” he’s hopeful, he looks hopeful. His eyes are tender and his body language screams frustration.

Perhaps

“Of course” You reach a hand out to him, he’s smiling, putting his bigger hand with yours for a handshake. You feel….okay. This feels okay now, your heart doesn’t feel like it’s ripping in two and for once you're not reminiscing about the past.

Your content, you’ve moved on.

“Let’s work on our friendship this new year, let’s not look back anymore Jungkook,” you say and Jungkook nods eagerly.

“I agree.”

There was no hatred, no passive tone, no hidden anger or jealousy in your words. You truly meant it, and you hope he understands.

“Baby, are you coming?” Kyomo calls and Jungkook’s eyes leave your face to his fiancés on the patio. His beautiful wife stands, reaching a hand out for him to grab. He looks back at you, but you encourage him with one last nod and divert your attention back to the counter.

“Yeah, yeah I am….” he trails off, you think you see him send a small smile your way before he goes out but you don’t care anymore.

You're just happy you're free now.

#jubgkook bts bts fic btsjungkook bts reactions jungkook smut jungkook fluff jungkook angst jungkook x you jungkook is a sweetheart #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #jeon jungguk

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dervaaas · 2 years

Note

Hi!! Do you have any childhood-friends-to-lovers x reader headcanons for Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira and Hyoma Chigiri?

Childhood-friends-to-lovers

Characters: Sae Itoshi; Yoichi Isagi; Meguru Bachira; Hyoma Chigiri

Gn!reader

Hi! thank you for your inquiry! I didn't have it, but I wrote it! I hope I understood everything correctly.

Honestly, I don't know if any events in chapters 183 and beyond are revealed about the past of these characters, because I don't want to buy a subscription to new chapters where I read and I don't know where to get them to read at least in English. so I'm focusing on chapters up to 183.

I really hope that I managed to write gn!reader if this is not the case, please tell me how to do it!

Sae Itoshi

— Being children. Most likely, he paid just as much attention to football and Rin as he did to you. He will definitely ask you to be at one of the matches; he secretly wants to seem cool, although he does not understand it or does not notice it for himself, but he is still a cool brother and friend!

— Awareness of falling in love. Most likely it happened during his departure. He began to realize that he was too sad to leave you. In principle, he did not burden you with it somehow, and there was no time for it. Without realizing it, he will start thinking about you more than it happened before.

— The relationship is now. I'm more than sure that he said his feelings out loud, and even right in the forehead, but he was still worried about it. Maybe he has changed in relation to everything, but the attitude towards you has not changed much, but still there is that chill to everything. He really genuinely loves you, but at the same time he worries that maybe his fans can somehow influence you. In a way, you make him feel stressed all the time.

Yoichi Isagi

— Being children. He has been insecure since childhood and it was a pleasant surprise for his parents when he was able to make friends with someone. It was probably an initiative on your part.

— Awareness of falling in love. For some reason I think he was in love since childhood and denied it in every way. Well, like how can he even fall in love with his friend? This is utter nonsense. But he most likely confesses during the holidays in Blue Lock, because only after Blue Lock does he become more confident in himself and in his feelings.

— The relationship is now. He tried to be as good a guy as possible during that weekend, which wasn't bad enough, plus he was so cute. Heck! He loves you too much that he is embarrassed by one of your snide looks. I think one day from your walks he introduced you to his comrades, who will tease him too.

Meguru Bachira

— Being children. You were the only friend he had besides the Monster. He treasured it very much, so he dragged you to his house quite often. I think his mom found out from the first day that his son had a friend.

— Awareness of falling in love. Probably after a phrase like: "I also see a monster." No, seriously, it will be a big discovery for him. It's a big surprise that you're just like him and don't hesitate to tell him about it.

— The relationship is now. He is still the same boy in love who dotes on you, for him you are still an important part of life and no matter how much time it has passed, it will always be so. He also tries very hard to be the best guy, like in those movies or TV shows.

Hyoma Chigiri

— Being children. Perhaps you studied in the same class and at some point became close. Some kind of common hobby, it doesn't really matter, the important fact is that most likely the acquaintance happened with his slight audacity.

— Awareness of falling in love. Just support. You can say that he has been in love since high school. He really lacked support as some bullied him. And after the injury, he fell into everything. Your support gave him an incentive not to lose heart and try himself in something else, where you don't need to make such efforts on his feet. Perhaps he himself understood his infatuation then.

— The relationship is now. I answer that – he would be your parents' favorite! Your parents were more happy than you. Jokes from my sister, that she prophesied it on the day you met. In fact, he is the best boy: he will always support, tell you how you did it. Of course, it's not just that, but he's trying to be the best for you.

#blue lock x reader #meguru bachira #hyoma chigiri #yoichi isagi #sae itoshi #hyoma chigiri x reader #meguru bachira x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #x reader #hedcanon

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kittykat-25 · 2 months

Text

GOLDEN HOUR - Part Two

Pairings: Park Seonghwa x OC! Katherine

Genre: Hogwarts AU, strangers to lovers(?), shy girl x popular boy

Summary: Park Seonghwa, the light of the Hufflepuff Common room, the Golden boy if you will. Popular, kind, handsome beyond belief. 1/8th of the rowdiest friend group to grace Hogwarts walls. And then there was Katherine, quiet, shy, a fly on the wall. Never seen or heard by anyone except Seonghwa. What happened when the popular golden boy falls for the quiet mouse of the school.

As Katherine sat in the dining hall she felt someone watching her. Looking up she met Seonghwa eyes as him and the rest of Ateez walked in. He smiled at her earning a nudge and grin from one of his friends. He had started making his way towards their table when a girl stepped in front of him. Mingi rolled his eyes and walked away leaving Seonghwa to deal with Vivian. “Seonghwa are we going to see you at the party this weekend?” She asked looking up at him from under her lashes, her hand on his arm. “I don’t think so but maybe next time.” He said as he walked around her, heading straight towards Katherine. Vivian whipped her head around following Seonghwa path with her eyes.

They narrowed as she caught on to where he was going.Walking back to the Slytherin table she threw a smirk at Hongjoong and Wooyoung. Not being able to escape their housemate as easily. “Seems like Seonghwa has a new plaything.” She said to Wooyoung. He turned and looked at her with a bored expression, “Desperation isn’t a good look on you Vivian.” The girl scoffed and walked towards her hoard of friends. “He seems dead set on that girl.” Wooyoung said to his older friend, watching Seonghwa sit across from the girl. “I didn’t even know she existed until Seonghwa said something.” Hongjoong said as he grabbed more food for his plate, “she’s like a puzzle he can’t figure out. Just give him time.” He added as he watched Seonghwa put a pastry on the girls empty plate.

Watching Seonghwa bypass the girl and beeline for her made Katherine nervous. She knew of Vivian, everyone did, her so called claim on the hufflepuff golden boy was known to most girls in the school. Apparently not known to the said boy though as he piled more food onto her plate. “I can do it myself you know.” Katherine said quietly. “You are focused on your book.” Seonghwa retorted with a laugh. Katherine could feel all the eyes on her, making her very uncomfortable. “Thank you but I’m actually going to get to class. Have a good day.” She said practically sprinting out of the dining hall “smooth.” Mingi said as he slid down towards Hwa. “I don’t understand.” Seonghwa said looking after the girl, not turning away until she turned a corner. “Just let it go” Mingi said placing the patties on his plate instead. Seonghwa looked back towards the door, “I can’t.” He said quietly.

Gathering his things together, he got up and heading in the direction Katherine went. Hoping to catch up to her. Katherine heard the rustling of books in a bag before Seonghwa was in front of her. Walking backwards he gave her a smile, “you ran off fast.” She looked up at him, “you caught up fast.” Seonghwa laughed, “why’d you run off?” He had turned around and was walking beside her. Compete opposite direction of his history of magic lesson. “Everyone was staring. I don’t like it.” She said quietly, Seonghwa almost didn’t hear her. “I’m-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Seonghwa said pulling her arm to a stop. Katherine turned and looked at him, “it’s fine Seonghwa. I just don’t like feeling like I’m under a microscope and that’s exactly how everyone treats you. Which is great for you but I want nothing to do with it.” She gently pulled her arm away and gave a smile before walking away. Leaving Seonghwa staring after her yet again.

He turned and found his friends watching the whole ordeal go down. “Don’t say a word.” He said as he pushed past them. They guys all looked at Hongjoong, “I’ll talk to him. Get to class.” He told them, following after his brother. Seonghwa made his way out of the castle down to the black lake, giving up on his lesson completely. He had just thrown his bag down when a voice called from behind him. “You get rejected so you throw a tantrum like a child.” Hongjoong’s voice had some amusement in it, prodding at his friend. “What did she say to you that messed you up so badly Hwa?” He said as Seonghwa paced along the shore. “We live under a microscope in the school and that’s all fine and dandy for us but she wants no part in it.” Seonghwa said as he ran his hands through his hair. Hongjoong looked at him, he had known his friend for 6 years now and never has he seem him this distressed over anything. He grabbed Seonghwa’s arm pulling the boy to a stop, “Hwa stop, we can figure it out just calm down.” Seonghwa pulled his arm free, “ no Joong I’m not going to keep bothering her if it makes her uncomfortable, that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I just don’t know what to do now.” He sat down, putting his head in his hands. Hongjoong sat down beside him, “we will figure it out Hwa. You have my word.” The older boy looked at his friend and had full faith in him, he was the smartest person he knew. They would figure this out.

A week later Hongjoong made his way to the library, people moving out of his way as he strolled down the crowded corridor. His given title as the slytherin prince was annoying but had its perks it seemed. He turned towards the back corner of the library and found the person he was looking for curled up in a cozy armchair. Books strew out in front of her. “Katherine” he called as he walked towards her, she looked up at him eyes wide as he stopped across the table. “Hi I’m Hongjoong.” He said sticking out his hand. She looked at him while closing her book, “I know who you are. You’re one of Seonghwa friends.” She said as her hand grasped his. “I’d say more of a brother but friend works too.” He said with a smile. She nodded at him, shoulders tense.

He knew it was his cue to leave, he didn’t want to startle her anymore, “I saw you back here and just wanted to introduce myself. See the girl who has Seonghwa so interested. But I’ll leave you to your studies.” He turned to leave when a voice called after him, “what do you mean interested?” Hongjoong smiled, turning back around, “I’m not quite sure what you did to the poor guy but not knowing your name for weeks almost drove him insane and therefore us. And now he’s scared to bother you or make you uncomfortable which is very noble and so Hwa of him but poor guys miserable. I just wanted to meet the girl who was at fault.” He said as he turned back around. Katherine processed everything then jumped up grabbing his arm, “excuse me! You can’t possibly blame me for this?” Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow answering her, “ and why not? You-“ “Joong enough, leave Katherine alone.” Seonghwa said as he came around the corner of the shelves. “I ask you to meet me in the library and you come here and start bothering her which is what I asked you specifically not to do?” He said crossing his arms.

Hongjoong looked up at his friend and smiled, “ah yes but I know you Hwa and you’re too kind to come speak to her yourself but you’ll definitely speak up for someone. So here you are. Stop pouting and just apologize.” He said grabbing by his bag and walking towards the other six friends trying and failing to not watch. “I’m so sorry, for Hongjoong and the other day. I didn’t mean to draw attention to you or make you uncomfortable in anyway Katherine.” Seonghwa said as he picked up her fallen books. He handed them to her, their eyes meeting, “it’s okay Seonghwa. It wasn’t intentional, you had no ill will. So stop tormenting yourself. And your friends apparently.” She said with a smile, “Hongjoong seems like a lot.” She added looking toward the other me all staring at her. Wooyoung waving enthusiastically.

She gave a small wave back earning multiple grins. “He’s not always so blunt. He’s the most loyal person you’ll ever meet. I always wondered why he wasn’t out in gryffindor honestly.” Seonghwa says as he watches her interact quietly with his friends. “The man just concocted a whole plan to make you talk to me. That’s why he’s in slytherin.” She said with a laugh. She piled her bag out of the chair, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Do you want to come sit with us? You don’t have too, I know we’re loud and everyone comes to talk to Yunho and San but they won’t bother you.” Seonghwa asked, eyes full of hope. “Not tonight, but if you’re here another night maybe I’ll join you.” She said as she walked towards the exit. “I’ll hold you to that Katherine.” He said, walking through the isles with her. She gave a smile before turning towards the exit, “I’m sure you will Seonghwa. Have a good night.” Hwa turned back towards his friends feeling lighter than he had in days, hopeful that Katherine would hold true to her word.

The next isle over Vivian and her hoard of friends stood in silence mouths agape as Seonghwa walked the girl to the exit of the library. A slight blush on his face as he turned towards the rest of Ateez. “I want her gone. I don’t care how you do it. I don’t want that freak near Seonghwa.” She seethed to her friends. The girls all nodded, plans forming to keep Katherine away from Ateez and Seonghwa at all cost.

A/N: HIHIHI!!! Sorry part two is shorter! It’s been chaos here but hopefully I’ll have part three out soon!!

What do we think Vivian and her minions are plotting?!?

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@sundaybossanova @vampzity @skzline @sanslovesblog @scarfac3 @mingisbbokari @edenesth @amuromio @chngbnwf

#ateez #harry potter #park seonghwa #mingi #wooyoung #hongjoong #choi san #jongho #yeosang #yunho #strangers to lovers #original character #hogwarts oc

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juneknight · 1 year

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Take These (Sunflower Seeds)

About this: The Soulmate AU trope where a goose will lead you to your soulmate. (Yes, this is a trope?? When I heard it, I knew I needed to write this, I'm so sorry). Steven Grant/fem!reader. Fluff.

Immersivity: this reader wears high-heels and works as a secretary in a law-firm. She is given no physical description nor name. Any further details which hinder your immersive experience are welcome to be pointed out to me.

You press your forehead to the cool glass of your office’s entrance, eyes scanning back and forth. Beyond is a patch of grass nicely landscaped: flower beds filled with hardy geraniums and lobelias surrounded by wood chips, iron benches, bins with special lids to keep the critters out. Bisecting the grass is the concrete sidewalk that leads to the parking lot, and just beyond the lot, one of the busy streets of London.

Besides typical foot traffic on the sidewalk and through the parking lot, the yard is empty.

“You haven’t fooled me, you bastard,” you mutter beneath your breath.

Someone clears their throat behind you. Whirling, you see one of the lawyers who had made partner standing behind you, not very patiently waiting for you to move so he could access the door.

“Oh, sorry, Mr. Giovanni,” you say, stepping out of the way. Your customer-service persona immediately assumes control over your body, speaking through your mouth with a measured politeness that the man doesn’t deserve. “Have a lovely weekend.”

He hums, breezing out the door and down the sidewalk. You watch his peaceful, easy retreat with a scowl.

“Best bite the bullet and run for it,” one of the other secretaries teases you, slipping past you and out the door. You’ll add that to the list of helpful advice you’ve received. Towards the top, even.

You reach down to slip your heels off and tuck them into your tote. Out come your tennis shoes. The feeling of wearing them with only your tights to act as socks is a sensation you will only be able to stand for the sixty seconds it takes you to sprint to your car. You must look like a madwoman, your running shoes at sharp odds with your prim work-wear, your tote clutched to your chest like you are about to run across a patch of hot coals.

Convinced it is now or never, you take a deep breath and rush through the door.

And you make it to the bins before you hear it: the most obnoxious honk you’ve ever heard. The goose comes barreling from around the corner of the office, cutting off your retreat.

This fucking goose.

When your law firm changed locations in the spring, you had been grateful for the shorter commute. The atmosphere was certainly better as well, what with the flowers at least—as a matter of fact, your building’s little thirty-by-thirty plot of grass was some of the only greenery within the surrounding three blocks.

Perhaps that’s one reason why the goose always comes back. For the atmosphere.

The second must be because it’s a dark little creature born of sulfur and brimstone with the singular goal in life to torture you.

You consider yourself a woman of slightly above average resilience. You are the one the girls in the office come to if there is a spider that needs squashed (little do they know you scoop it up in one of the paper cups from the fountain and deliver it to the nearest potted plant—little bastards never did anything wrong besides have a few extra legs). You carry pepper spray. You are capable of asserting yourself when necessary.

But your fear of geese is new. Something about the throaty honk of this particular goose turns you into a child, shrieking, incapable of defending yourself. If you thought you could bargain with it, you might have tried. Please Mr. Goose, kindly leave me the fuck alone and I promise I’ll donate more to charity, I’ll return my trolley to the designated spot and stop leaving them in the parking lot beside my car, I’ll never tip less than twenty-percent. But a part of you believes that this goose would accept no bargain. There will be no parlay. There will only be blood—yours.

The goose, its ridiculously wide wing-span spread, comes towards you like a child running into the arms of its mother.

“Get the fuck away from me!” you shriek. You clutch your tote tighter, dancing between fight or flight. Should you turn and run? Should you punt the thing like a football? Are geese a protected species? No, couldn’t be, there’s so many of them—but then your rushing thoughts come to an end because it is upon you, the air rustling around you from its wings, its honk deafening. It will go for your eyes first, you know it, that’s exactly what a cold-hearted killer would do—

“Hey—shoo!”

The geese swerves away from you so suddenly that you nearly slip, your tennis shoes sliding in the grass after the bird had ushered you off of the concrete pathway. A man comes rushing from the parking lot. There is a black bag strapped across his chest, which he has reached into. He withdraws a handful of sunflower seeds which he scatters in the grass. The goose, to your utter amazement, dives for the seeds, pecking at the ground with the same decisive pleasure it might have used on your eyes.

The man looks at you, and oh. Oh, he is pretty: tanned and tired, hair dark and curly, with dark eyes and a nicely curved nose. The smile he gives you is a little bashful as he offers you his hand to help you back onto the concrete pathway.

“Are you alright? The bleeding geese in this city—a little too domesticated, if you ask me. Not that I’m helping much, what with the sunflower seeds but—”

“That goose wants me dead,” you say, pointing at it with a shaky finger.

The man’s pretty face twists into an expression of such poignant grief that you can’t doubt it for an instant. “I wish I could say he didn’t, but never in my life have I seen a bird so absolutely fixated on choosing violence. I’m Steven.”

“Steven,” you repeat, testing the name in your mouth. You offer him your hand and your own name. His palms are cold, but you know the saying: cold hands, warm heart.

Reaching into his bag, the man pulls out a small package of sunflower seeds. “Please. It’s dangerous to go alone. Take these.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” you say, even as you gently accept the gift.

“They were less than a pound, love, hardly breaking my bank.”

Love. Such a familiar moniker from a strange man would ordinarily repulse you—but instead, you find yourself softening. This man isn’t like the weirdos you encounter on the tube.

“Nevertheless,” you say. “Could I buy you coffee? To repay you for the seeds. And for saving my life.”

He stares at you. “Me—coffee? You want to get coffee, with me?”

“Very much.”

“I—alright. Sure. That would be lovely. Did you walk?”

“Somewhat.”

“Well at least you came prepared,” he says, glancing at your tennis shoes. “Would you like to pick the place?”

“There’s one nearby—”

“Down the block, yes. Very good choice. Not a single goose hangout on the way.”

You laugh. “It sounds like I’m exaggerating, honestly, but that goose has been hunting me for the last six months, and no one else ever seemed to take it seriously. As a matter of fact, for a few weeks in the beginning, it was sort of a big joke for the ladies in my office to gather in the lobby and watch me try and make it to the street. I’ve had nightmares about that fucking goose, honestly. I—” you stop, suddenly, face growing warm at how childish your next statement sounds. “—this is silly, but I even named it.”

Steven absolutely melts. He stops in the middle of the parking lot, turning to face you full on. “Oh come now. I must know.”

“Truly?”

“Without question.”

“Well if you insist—I named it Mark.”

Steven blinks at you. The strangest expression passes over his face. He points back towards the goose and says with absolute conviction, “You know, he does strike me as a Marc.”

“You think?” you reply, delighted.

“Absolutely, yes—watch your step, love, there you go. Now, I'm all turned about. Which way is that coffee?”

#steven grant x reader

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pastanest · 1 year

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if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @iamburdened - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

Hello, Doctor Reid

The skies beyond the windows of the BAU building were completely grey, thick with clouds, though there was no rain falling yet. Spencer observed on his way in that morning that it would probably begin raining by noon, but he hadnt reached the point of being able to confirm his prediction yet. Derek was, as usual on a Monday, starting his day by ranting to Spencer about his endeavours over the past weekend. The clubs he had been to, the women he had seen, the women who had seen him - it was no new tale to anyone on the team, but Spencer was one person that could be counted on when it came to listening. Unfortunately for him, it would be a long time before he forgot any of the experiences Derek had told him about.

The curly haired genius was dragged from listening to Derek when he caught the sound of a laugh. Now, let it be said that Spencer is as polite as they come, and when in conversation, it is nearly impossible to distract him, because he gives his conversation partner his full attention, out of respect. But that laugh - it did more than distract him, it tore his eyes from Derek’s dazed smile and sent the words of his friend far off into the distance until he could no longer hear them. The moment Spencer’s gaze landed on you, sunlight streamed in from the windows of the BAU building, sunshine that the young genius had not predicted, but no longer cared to concentrate on. Instead, he was entranced by your smile as you walked beside JJ, who was pointing out various aspects of the room to you and explaining their purpose. The coincidence of the sun peaking through the clouds as you walked into the room was enough for Spencer to finally understand those moments in romantic films, when somebody sees their lover and time seems to slow down, almost to a stop. If he could pause this moment, he would capture it in a glass jar, so that he could admire it years from now and smile at the memory of seeing what he logically deduced could only be an angel.

“Wh-Who is that?” Spencer uttered, cutting off his friend Derek, who had only just caught on to the fact that he was being unintentionally ignored.

“Who is-” Derek paused as he followed Spencer’s gaze, his words getting caught in his throat when he saw you “Damn.”

Spencer could only nod, for of all the words he had read in his life, he could not think of a single one that would justify just how beautiful you were to him. This was nothing like what Derek had told him of his experiences meeting pretty women, the only similar notion he could think of was the way JJ’s eyes looked when she smiled as she talked about her husband Will. That, combined with Spencer’s previous experiences of crushes, was enough for him to form a logical conclusion. This was love at first sight, something that he had only read about in so many fascinating articles, but something he was unconvinced could possibly be real, until that very moment. Sunlight danced in your hair as you ran your fingers through it, and even from a distance Spencer could see the starlight in your eyes. His heart leapt in his chest as he came to the sudden realisation of just how close you were to him, he hadnt even heard JJ introduce you, all he saw was your kind smile as you held your hand out to him.

“Hello, Doctor Reid”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #criminal minds

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butmakeitgayblog · 9 months

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When did midwestern au Clarke realise she’s in love with Lexa?

When she had the flu 🥺

It'd been coming on for awhile - the realization, not the virus.

For months it'd been like 'Ah man. Ah jeez... I think I might be actually really legit falling for this sexy little weirdo. What the hell is in the water in this town?'

Because, ya know, she'd really been getting to see Lexa as person beyond just the woman who liked to flirt and take her out for the evening. She got to see the way Lexa reached out and had a hand in how her community thrived. She saw that Lexa did things like check in on elderly neighbors who had no one else to look after them, and how she helped do little fundraiser events that went to the little town school for things like new books and free lunches. She saw that when first big snowfall happened, Lexa was right out there with her shovel, directing all the boys with their pickup plows to clear the streets while she wrangled up a few others to hell her clear out the sidewalks and driveways. (Seeing those rosy red cheeks and that stupid beanie hat. Feeling the chill of Lexa's frosty-tipped nose when she kissed her after she was done digging Clarke's car out. All of thag certainly didn't help her cause for keeping this whole thing relatively casual either.)

She was just Lexa. And after awhile Clarke realized that being Lexa meant being so many different things to so many people. She was peacekeeper among rivals and heavy-fisted diplomat among hot heads, teacher and advisor to the younger ones looking toward a future outside of the town limits. She was friend and confidant to the lonely, and caregiver to the all but forgotten. She was all that on top of being a goofy ass drunk who liked to get handsy while dancing to the sappiest gd country songs Clarke's ever heard in her life. And somehow none of that really seemed at odds with the fact that she liked to stay up late in the quiet after sex just to talk and listen and share ideas with Clarke about books and art and philosophy.

Falling in love with Lexa wasn't a revelation or any one singular aha moment. It was a million moments that stacked together. It was a process of falling for all the different pieces of her.

So to be honest Clarke was already pretty damn far gone on this girl by the time she got walloped with one of the worst flus she'd had in her entire adult life. But then Lexa showed up on her doorstep a little past noon, face tight with worry and hands filled with supplies.

And for as much as Clarke hates to be coddled- doubly so when she's sick - it's an entirely losing battle trying to assure Lexa's that she's fine when she's pale enough to give Casper a run for his money and so congested that just the trip from the couch to the door has left her winded. Besides, she's got a Tupperware container of homemade soup in one hand, and a full case of pedialyte that Clarke knows she must've driven at least 35 minutes just to get in the other.

So she lets her girlfriend do all her girlfriend-things without much of an argument. But it... it really does change everything, without actually changing anything. There's nothing earth shattering about Lexa bringing over the sweater Clarke always likes to steal from her whenever she spends the night. There's nothing particularly exceptional about her girlfriend adjusting the thermostat to the perfect temp and gathering up every blanket and pillow she owns and creating a nest next her little fan so Clarke can adjust at any moment if she feels too hot or too cold.

But there is something about the little pinch between Lexa's brows while she stubbornly checks Clarke's temperature every now and then. And there's the something about how, despite Clarke's dry and chapped lips and the probable dried snot under nose, Lexa still giving her little kisses. There is definitely something about remembering on day three that Lexa was supposed to have been out of town that entire weekend. Finding out that she had left work a day early with a note for no one to bother her, and then canceled her plans to go ice fishing with her friends just to stay laid up with Clarke instead.

"They'll be fine without me," was all she said when Clarke emerged from her disease ridden haze long enough to ask what happened to her trip. "I wanted to be here if you needed me... I like taking care of you, Clarke."

She'd said it so casually. Like it really was just that simple. As though it was no big deal that she'd blown off people she'd known her entire life just to be a certified Kleenex wrangler and back rubbing aficionado whenever Clarke got wracked with a particularly nasty cough.

That was kind of it. After that Clarke stopped thinking about them in terms of 'for now's and maybes and what-ifs down the line, and actually started thinking about what kind of life they were going to build together. Cuz if that girl could kiss her and still look at her like she was the sun, moon, and stars all while having dried up snot on her nose? It was lost cause. Clarke was done for. She was keepin her.

#anon #midwestern au #clexa

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thenon-fictiondays · 1 year

Text

Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 2-4

Chapter 2: Summer preparations.

Part 4

Prev || Next

Basketball club practice is held inside the gym for the most part, but they use the outdoor space for warm-up runs.

They can hear the wind instruments club tuning and practicing marches, and it feels like they have their own personal pep band.

Although they keep hydrated, warm sweat flows freely.

While squinting against the blazing sunlight, Kagiura thinks of Hirano’s bright blonde hair.

Dyed blonde despite his position in the student council, Hirano’s hair is unfortunately quite damaged. It suits him so well, though.

And the small earrings that normally adorn his earlobes are as of yet still missing in action.

Although it’s already been a week, Hirano seems unconcerned; as such, Kagiura is the more worried of the two.

If the piercings are healthy, they won’t easily close up, but they’re still technically wounds, so they’ll undoubtedly shrink if left unattended.

Hirano had told him they’re his first piercings, so Kagiura had asked “shouldn’t you hurry up and put something in them?”, to which Hirano had replied, “If I took them out at the same time, I should find them sooner or later”, and seemed content to leave well enough alone.

While he took shelter in the gym, mopping his sweaty face with the towel hanging around his neck, Kagiura thought about what color earrings would look good on Hirano.

His image of Hirano’s personal clothing is vague, since he only sees him in loungewear.

He would be able to see them on the weekend, but Kagiura’s days off are dedicated to club activities, so his chances to see him are few and far between.

At school, when he’s wearing his uniform, most of the time they don’t end up running into each other. In the mornings, Hirano wakes up first and even wakes Kagiura up, but even Hirano wouldn’t wear his uniform that early in the morning.

He returns to the dorm earlier than Kagiura, and by the time Kagiura gets home, he has long since changed into loungewear.

That’s why going the traditional route of choosing ones that will easily coordinate with his usual clothing is easier said than done.

Besides, we don’t have any free time before summer vacation to go buy some together.

So what is he supposed to do?

Kagiura tried to figure out where to go from there, but before long, the rest of the club members finished their run and foundational practice began.

If your head is in the clouds, it won’t be long before you get injured.

He had taken that concept to heart, so it only took a moment for him to switch gears and focus on practice.

It’s strange; when he gets in the zone, he doesn’t even care about getting sweaty. He can’t even tell if the wind instrument club’s performance is still audible from outside, through the gym doors that are closed to conserve their pathetically weak air conditioning.

The application review for the plan selection qualifiers went by without a hitch, and they passed through the second round of judging immediately afterwards with flying colors.

Niibashi is doing just as well as anticipated—in fact, he is going above and beyond. The presentation he gives with a smile brimming with confidence is overwhelmingly effective, and his preparation is immaculate.

They deliberately address the open question of food safety measures, and are now at the stage where they’ll probably be able to get a space in the courtyard or somewhere else that can accommodate their customers.

They were able to get through the research in just a few days thanks to their 2nd and 3rd year acquaintances, so they’re grateful.

Normally, upperclassmen make good use of their past experiences and prepare for the cultural festival ahead of time. That’s why it’s difficult for ill-prepared first years to win real estate in the courtyard, or so they’re told, but they faced their audition with such flawlessness that it was hard to believe they had completed it in such a rush.

Niibashi is excessively skilled at networking, so their stock of materials piles up with the help of other classes, and just like that Kagiura and the other two assistants take a back seat.

In contrast to the energy of the executive committees from the other classes with passionate appeals, the student council, who are in charge of the judging, are, to put it nicely, relaxed.

To put it not so nicely, their reactions are deadpanned, by which Kagiura was caught off guard.

One would think that the student council at a school where independence is so highly valued would be filled with the type of people who like planning things, but the student council president, Touou, seems to be the high-strung type.

As expected from someone who serves as the student council president as a second year, he’s used to directing others, and he even has a certain dignity about him as he subjects each proposal to a barrage of questions from on high, yet he doesn’t seem to enjoy doing so.

There was one other thing that was unexpected.

Which is that, the sometimes excessive amounts of nitpicking by the latter notwithstanding, Niibashi is actively involved with Touou.

I wonder if they’re good friends? Kagiura wonders, but he wouldn’t want to put a damper on them when they seemed to be enjoying themselves, so he bites his tongue.

*****

It isn’t long before summer vacation, so there were only morning classes today.

The gym is undergoing inspections and can’t be used, and the advisors are absent for training, so the coaches are also taking the day off, which means the basketball club isn’t meeting today.

That’s just fine by them, as it gives the first year club members the chance to go to a sports shop to purchase new shoes, which Kagiura, as a veteran, is happy to give recommendations for.

This shop is familiar with their school placing orders for uniforms, and they’re glad that the proprietor memorizes their faces and supports them even though they’re still just first years. Apparently he’s even come to see their practice matches.

His heart bounces on his way home, thinking he’ll ask Hirano about it too.

Despite eating lunch and going shopping, he still gets back much earlier than usual, and it’s not yet 3 o’clock. Even if he does his homework, time is just crawling by today.

“I’m home!”

There’s no response to his statement as he swings the door open.

“Huh…?”

Inside, Hirano’s bag is missing, as if he hasn’t come home yet.

Maybe he’s at a committee meeting, he thinks while he spreads a sheet out on the floor and begins tending to his club equipment.

After more or less cleaning up, he starts on his homework, imitating the self-study techniques Hirano had taught him.

If he could see this, would he be surprised?

But, contrary to his expectations, even when dusk falls there’s no sign of Hirano coming back.

Starting to get antsy, he opens the door to their room open halfway, but Hanzawa comes by and shuts it, saying “if you leave the door hanging open, it’ll be in the way!”

He’s on the same committee, which means it’s not a late-running meeting that’s holding Hirano up.

“Hanzawa-san, Hirano-san isn’t back yet—did he tell you he had something to take care of, or something?”

“Hm. I have no idea. Well, you’re not a child, so you’ll be fine. That aside, aren’t you going to go for dinner? I’m heading there now.”

Just as he’s said, dinnertime has indeed started. Although there’s a large window when you can go, you can never be too early if you don’t want to impact your bathing time.

“.....I’m coming.”

I really, really hope nothing’s wrong.

Slightly troubled, Kagiura follows behind Hanzawa.

Apparently, Hirano returned to the dorms just before dinnertime ended.

He went straight to the dining hall without even dropping off his bag, and didn’t come back to the room until after the first years’ bath time had started.

They kept just missing each other, and could say no more than passing greetings, but Hirano seemed to be in a bit of a bad mood.

He has always been the kind of person to speak brusquely, but it is rare for him to be so blatantly terse. I want to ask him about it, but would that be okay? What if it’s something serious that he can’t talk to me about?

He has a completely different set of problems from his comrade, because the depth of their lives are different by one year, a difference he can sense each and every day.

If Hirano has a problem he can’t resolve, there’s probably nothing Kagiura can do to help. If he asks him if anything happened, it might just make him even more upset.

But—he can’t just do nothing. That is the conclusion Kagiura came to.

While wondering how best to broach the subject, Kagiura leaves the bath, and hurries back to the room.

When he knocks lightly on the door and says “I’m back from the baths,” Hirano replies “yeah, welcome back,” in a lower tone than usual.

Hirano sits at his desk, the look in his eyes predictably sharp.

“What happened today?” Kagiura asks, although for a moment he almost folds under the pressure of that gaze.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You came home late today, Hirano-san. And it doesn’t seem like it was because of a committee meeting.”

“Oh…sorry. Did I worry you?”

“Yes. I was really worried.”

That’s right, he’s worried. He only realized it when Hirano said it.

The feeling of uneasiness that had been plaguing him all afternoon was an awful lot like the loneliness of being left home alone as a child.

Like the feelings he’d had when it seemed like he’d be swallowed up by the swirling anxiety at the thought that something must be something wrong with his parents, or something terrible had happened to his siblings, for them to not come home like this.

“I see. …..It’s not exactly a cheery story, though.”

“That’s okay.”

“There was a fight—or rather an incident of violence—at the school today. It was one-sided; the guys were playing dirty.”

A kouhai from the committee tried to get them to stop, but Hirano’s friend held him back, stepping in in his place, and sustained injuries.

Apparently the reason Hirano had been late is that after asking about the incident from his friend in the committee room, and then hearing what the first year victim and his kouhai had to say about it, he’d been discussing it with the committee advisor.

Hanzawa hadn’t known about it because the advisor had stopped Hirano from calling him back from the dorm even though he was the vice chairman.

“Do you not know who did it? I’m sure they’d be suspended or something…”

“The guy who stepped in to stop it isn’t that great at fighting, so the culprits were able to get away. He knew that they’re first years, but it’ll be summer break soon, so I don’t really know what’ll happen. …He won’t even tell me all the details, either. He probably thinks it’d be lame to snitch or something.”

The longer he talks, the more it seems like he’s just going off on his friend. But rather than being angry at him, it seems more like there’s something else spurring him on. Regret, perhaps, or frustration.

Imagining the pain of someone he’s supposed to be close with refusing to talk to him, Kagiura gently reaches out his hand.

He strokes that beautiful blonde hair.

Although their usual roles are reversed, this is essentially what Hirano always does for him.

Listening to him talk, comforting him, encouraging him. Hirano does it more skillfully, but for Kagiura as he is now, he doesn’t have the words to nurse his indignation.

As he smoothes down his hair, Hirano’s eyes go wide.

“.....What.”

“I thought if I did this maybe you’d calm down.”

“.....”

Letting out a small huff, Hirano murmurs, “you’re right.” The tension slowly drains from his face..

He makes such soft expressions.

Now it’s Kagiura’s turn to be surprised. Hirano’s just like a cat that’s warmed up to him.

“Hey. How long do you plan on rubbing my head?”

No sooner had he spoken than Kagiura pulled his hand back, but even after Hirano leaves for the baths, Kagiura flops onto his bed and ponders how comfortable it felt to stroke that blonde hair.

Twenty minutes later, Hirano returns from the bath, having washed away his sweat and his air of gloom.

Having sat at his desk and pulled out a map of the school, he says, “I’ll do what I can to get this taken care of before summer break,” his usual vigor restored. He’s not sulking at all. He’s back to his normal self.

When Kagiura asks about it upon his return from the bath, Hirano tells him that after discussing with Hanzawa, they’d decided on a plan of action moving forward. It seems the best thing to do is to check out the vicinity the perpetrators had been walking in, and ask the clubs and groups that use that area at the time of the incident for eyewitness statements to try to deduce the culprits.

Putting out a notice aimed at students in clubs seemed unlikely to succeed, but the thought was that if anyone had been acting strangely after the fight, someone might’ve noticed.

After that, with not only Hanzawa but the collective force of the whole disciplinary committee to gather intel and the support of the faculty advisor, they were able to suss out the culprits before summer break.

The school decided to take disciplinary action against them, due to their maliciousness and the fact that there was a second assault.

Just as Hirano had declared, it was just in time for summer break.

Upon returning to his room after chatting with the club senpai who were also dorm students, Kagiura finds that Hirano had already finished getting ready for bed and turned off his desk lamp. It is unusual for him to try to go to sleep early without studying or reading.

Kagiura follows his lead and softly crawls into bed.

Normal classes end tomorrow. The day after that is the closing ceremony.

The basketball club has practice for the weekend practice matches, so Kagiura won’t have the chance to see Hirano, who’s going home immediately, until the new semester.

As his awareness of this fact sinks in, so does his loneliness.

He didn’t sign up for the mock exam, but his week is full of morning make-up classes, so there’s just no way to swing it.

I never thought I’d come to feel like this.

He’s become fond of that flashy personality that caught him off guard at first.

But that was really just the beginning. Things like moving his slippers out of the way for him, eating the peppers off his plate—he was touched by the kindness Hirano had shown him throughout those days.

Being with his side, more than he would’ve expected from living with someone who isn’t family, is comfortable.

“Hey, Hirano-san.”

“Hm?”

“You’re going home the day after the closing ceremony, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan. You’re staying until next week, right? Practice matches and whatnot.”

“Yep. Besides, I also have supplementary lessons this week.”

“You’re actually gonna go? Good for you.”

To tell the truth, he’s actually a little unsure about that.

His grades aren’t exactly something to write home about, but he’d made a rebound at the end of the term, and managed not to get such crappy scores that he’d be forced to take the supplementary lessons.

If he can go, he probably should, but due to club activities he might be exempted.

After checking the prerequisites, he’d declared his plans to attend, because he foresaw putting it off until the end due to a combination of his own personality and being lulled into a false sense of security by the words “you don’t have to attend if you don’t want to”.

Up to now, he’s accepted his senpai’s help, and so far hasn’t let him down…within reason.

“Because it looks like they’ll even be able to teach me how to do the homework we got assigned for summer break. You’ve never been called to attend, have you?”

“Nope, because I take school seriously.”

“Speak for yourself…”

“Haha. You take it seriously too, I bet, and you’ll keep it up in the second semester.”

“Right. …..Um, Hirano-san.”

It’s not as if he’s about to say something weird, but his heart thuds against his chest, and for no real reason, his fists clench atop the bed.

“Hirano-san, do you have any plans for summer break yet? Like around the end of July, or the beginning of August.”

His voice is hesitant, as if he’d confessed to doing something bad.

“Nothing set in stone. Why?”

“What do you think about coming with me to the countryside?”

“Hm? You mean…me tagging along when you go visit your family?”

His questioning reply is slow and tinged with sleepiness.

He hasn’t said no yet, so Kagiura remains hopeful.

“Yeah.”

“.....Your place isn’t really that far in the countryside, is it?”

Hirano’s and Kagiura’s homes are in the same prefecture, and furthermore, they’re right above a transit station. Ignoring the distance between the station and their houses, their respective stations are a 30 minute ride from each other. They’re both familiar with the area.

“Not there, to my grandparents’ house…is that not gonna work out? It’s a huge house and there’s a ton of rooms, so it won’t be cramped, and every year my relatives end up bringing other people anyway, so you wouldn’t be out of place or anything.”

The words had spilled out of his mouth unchecked, but what he said is true. His cousins in university bring along their circle of friends, and more distant relatives with small children come to stay with someone who has a close connection with the main family, so during summer break his grandfather’s house hosts a wide variety of guests.

“.....What days are you going, Kagi-kun?”

“I’m taking the night bus on the 30th, arriving on the 31st, then I’m thinking I’ll stay two or three days and take the night bus back home.”

Up until last year, he’s come with his immediate family, so they’ve usually stayed a bit longer. But for Hirano to come along, he figures this span of time is an easier ask.

He doesn’t want to push back the dates if it can be helped.

There’s a reason it must be this timing.

If Hirano has a prior commitment with this timing in mind, Kagiura will have to give up, but—

“If your relatives give permission, it’s fine by me. I don’t have summer classes around then.”

At the readily given agreement, Kagiura quickly sits up. His phone is charging on his desk.

“Hey, you’re not trying to call them right now, are you?”

“Whaaat, I can’t?”

“You definitely can’t. Do it tomorrow. Look at the clock; it’s almost time for lights out. We’re not allowed to use phones or other devices now.”

Because Hirano himself doesn’t usually follow this policy to the letter, Kagiura immediately understands that cutting off their device time is for Kagiura’s sake.

That sort of thing is what makes him such a good person.

“Fiiine. …Good night, Hirano-san.”

“Yeah. ‘Night, Kagi-kun.”

With the click of the switch being flipped, all the lights shut off.

As the room falls to darkness, the waves of unbelievable nervousness and elation begin to ebb, and before long Kagiura falls asleep.

*****

On the first night of summer vacation, for the first time since he’d started school, Kagiura greeted the night alone.

The two-person room is spacious for one person by himself.

Thanks to the departed Hirano, who’d cleaned thoroughly while Kagiura was at school, even the air in the room had seemed different when he opened the door.

In fact, just by Hirano, who is always there before him, being gone, it feels like everything from the atmosphere to the scent of the room has changed.

Homes are living things, so without people living there they fall apart, or so Kagiura has heard.

He is also hoping that with the number of guests increasing during summer break, that countryside house with many extra rooms will become lively, just as his grandfather said.

Up until now, he hadn’t had words to put to the feeling, but now it feels like he understands what it means to start your own family after leaving your parents’ home.

It just doesn’t feel right if someone isn’t here.

And being with someone is better than being alone.

*****

After talking to his parents and grandfather, Kagiura was given permission to bring his senpai from school home without any issues.

He has yet to tell Hirano anything more than that, but it seems like today they’ll have the opportunity to talk about it.

That night, during the time when phone calls are allowed in the dorm, Kagiura tries bringing up the topic while talking with Hirano.

“By the way, Hirano-san. My relatives said that since you’re my dorm roommate and I’ve probably gotten used to you, it’d be fine for you to stay a week or even two.”

“That’s way too long. And what does ‘used to me’ even mean?”

“I don’t know, either. …..As a matter of fact, we do have guests that stay around a week.”

“I’m grateful to your relatives, but that’s a long time.”

Hirano’s voice as he stifles a laugh is lower over the phone than his natural voice. The husky sound jumps a bit; it’s the first time Kagiura’s heard this voice.

“Are you busy with summer prep courses?”

“Well, I’m finished for tonight, so not really. What about you? Doing okay?”

“Club is going really well, of course. I want to go swimming since it’s so hot, though.”

“Not that, your supplementary classes. You’re going to them and doing the assignments properly, right?”

“I’m doing them. …..There’s a range of topics designated for each day, so I’d be in trouble if I didn’t do them.”

The teacher in charge of the supplementary classes claimed that the majority of students who say they “can’t study” are simply not in the habit of sitting at their desks, rather than having a large difference in their basic academic ability.

He’s not entirely wrong, Kagiura concedes. Because, after all, every time he sits at his desk, he finds himself watching Hirano’s back as he studies or after he’s finished his homework.

If he hadn’t been observing Hirano’s day-to-day life, he probably would’ve said something like “we’re just built different” and not thought anything of it, but thanks to Hirano, he can see the difference between himself and someone who continually puts in effort each day.

“That’s for the best when you’re in your first year. You’ll get more points by reviewing the material from the first semester than by choosing units based on trend.”

Due to the large difference in their characters, Kagiura is skeptical of the theory that if he seriously worked hard, his scores would rise accordingly, but Hirano, who is always studying much more difficult subjects than Kagiura, is sparing him some effort. He has no choice but to do it.

“.....Yeah. I’ll do my best. But, you know…” Although his voice is already subdued so as not to carry into the hallway, Kagiura drops his voice even lower.

“But, what?”

“Our room feels kind of empty when you’re not here.”

When the little huff of laughter reaches his ears, he closes his eyes, unable to stand the way it tickles as if the breath had brushed him directly.

“You must be getting tired. Go to sleep already.”

He wants to protest that he’s not at the age when sleepiness makes him needy, but just as Hirano pointed out, exhaustion is beginning to weigh on him.

I want to fall asleep just like this, without hanging up.

Even though he knows that’s impossible, he almost blurted it out.

I want to see him soon.

*****

T/N: (1) The phrase here is actually 親の実家, but this concept doesn't really translate well into English, so I figured grandparents' house conveyed the meaning best. Basically, in traditional families, the 実家 (true home) is the main house (think Akito's house in Fruits Basket) where the grandparents still live and the extended family gathers for events. This tells us 2 things: 1, that Kagiura's family's probably loaded, and 2, they're traditional, so if he and Hirano ever actually start dating (lol), we can expect some juicy family drama

(2) Full disclosure, Kagi's super cheesy/romantic line at the end is more literally "When you're not here, this room is too big and too quiet". I was going back and forth about how to write it, because I'm a stickler for accuracy, but ultimately I think what I ended up putting conveys the wistfulness and longing a little better than transliterating it would

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#re: accurate translations- i am open to opinions so lmk if you guys would prefer a more 1:1 tl #i cannot promise i will translate by the word bc tbh that would be a horrible translation #but i am very new to translating novels (read: this is my first)#so im still figuring out what balance of readable vs enjoyable works best #up to now ive tried to stick as close as possible to what is literally written in the book #but the thing about translating is that if youve translated so precisely that youve lost the voice and the nuances its a failed translation #so i took a few more liberties with how i worded things this time #(while still keeping the gist the same bc i would never lie to yall like that)#(& bc as a reader i hate reading a tl and then looking at the source material)#(and realizing the tler changed the entire meaning of certain lines or changed certain concepts)#ANYWAY #hirano to kagiura #hirano and kagiura #hirano to kagiura ln #hirano to kagiura translation #sasaki to miyano #sasamiya #harusono shou

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