#finally...... he is a guest of honor at fashion week

[c-oupsie]

after nightfall, lsm (teaser)

𝖣𝖾𝖾𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗒-𝗍𝗐𝗈-𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌—𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗂𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝖽𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗇!𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗄𝗆𝗂𝗇 𝗑 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌!𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌. 𝗋𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗎, 70𝗌 𝖺𝗎, 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖻𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾, 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗍. 𝗏𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗍, 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 (𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗂𝖼).

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌. 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾, 𝗉𝗋𝖾-𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗑/𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖿𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗆.

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍. 840 (𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗋)

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾. 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄 :𝖣

𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 @svthub 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖺𝖻, 𝗍𝖺𝗉 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍.

As the evening wears on, the hum of conversation quiets briefly as your father, the Sheikh, rises from his seat at the head of the table. His commanding presence draws everyone’s attention, and the room falls into a respectful silence.

     “My dear family, esteemed guests,” he begins, his deep voice resonating through the hall, “in honor of the joyous times ahead, a foreign troupe has traveled from afar to entertain us this evening and in the coming weeks. I trust their music will lift our spirits as we celebrate these upcoming unions.”

You sit up straighter, a faint flutter in your chest at the mention of music. Beyond your beloved books, music has always been a comfort for you—a way to immerse yourself in emotions you’re not permitted to show. When sadness overwhelms you or your thoughts grow heavy, you often turn to your qanun, an instrument you’ve been playing since childhood. Though not a professional, you’ve even taught children at the school where you volunteer. The memory of their excitement makes you smile.

Faint footsteps approach from beyond the grand doors, and a strange anticipation stirs within you, an unexplainable feeling that something big is about to happen.

The doors to the dining hall open, and a group of five performers enters, instruments in hand. They bow before the table, ready to offer their talents to the royal families. You notice the subtle nervousness in their expressions, but they mask it behind big smiles as they offer a brief introduction of themselves.

Standing under the brilliant chandelier, you discreetly scan their faces as they speak. It’s hard to believe none of them are famous actors—you can’t even decide who is the most handsome among them. Their simple attire somehow elevates them, as if they’ve stepped right off the cover of a foreign fashion magazine.

But soon, your gaze is no longer on the entire group. No, your attention is drawn to one figure in particular—the tall man standing at the back, offering the table the most dazzling smile while his troupe mates speak. His dark hair falls slightly into his eyes, but as he lifts his head, you finally see his face clearly—and the breath catches in your throat.

It’s him.

The man you saw earlier today, running through the palace gardens. You remember the brief glimpse of him from a distance, wondering who he was and why he seemed to move with such urgency. And now, here he is, standing only a few feet away—a musician, part of the troupe here to entertain you.

Your heart races, and you find yourself unable to look away. He hasn’t noticed you yet—his focus on his instrument—but something about him, the way his presence seems to light up the room, draws you in.

There’s a subtle grace in his movements, and though he’s meant to blend in with the rest of the troupe, he stands out to you like a beacon. The dull ache of loneliness that had weighed on you moments ago begins to lift, replaced by a flicker of something unfamiliar—curiosity, intrigue.

As the music begins, soft and melodic, you try to maintain your composure. You’re seated among royalty, surrounded by people who expect you to enjoy the performance with elegance.

Zahir’s mother comments on the beauty of the music, saying something about wanting the troupe to perform at your wedding as well. You force a polite smile and nod, but your mind is far from the conversation. You feel Zahir’s gaze on you, and when you glance his way, he raises an eyebrow, an amused expression on his face.

Is your sudden interest that obvious? By the look on Zahir’s face, it seems it is.

You almost want to chuckle. For the first time, you feel a pull toward something, someone. And of course, it happens during an important dinner with your entire family present.

The music swells, the strings of the musician’s oud weaving a hauntingly beautiful melody through the room. You steal another glance at the musician, telling yourself this will be the last. But this time, as you look, his gaze lifts—and meets yours.

In that brief moment, the air between you seems to still. No one else notices, but it hits you like a tidal wave. His eyes linger on yours for a second, but in that second, something deep within you stirs—something that has been dormant for far too long.

You quickly look away, your cheeks flushing, but the feeling lingers. There’s something about him—this stranger—that reaches beyond the surface, beyond the confines of your royal life.

The music flows on, but everything else around you seems to blur into the background. Your thoughts are consumed by him who, without even realizing it, has captivated your full attention. Perhaps it’s the mounting pressure of the impending wedding, the yearning for something genuine, or the desire to make a choice solely for yourself for once in your life, but you find yourself determined to learn more about this man, no matter how it unfolds.

𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗉 (𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍!)

[bbiine]

SPILLED WINE REWARD ָ֢

SUMMARY: an accident involving wine, between Seokmin and Y/N, two ex-lovers, at New York Fashion Week, makes Seokmin want to reward you

PAIRING: idol!ex boyfriend!Seokmin x idol!ex girlfriend!fem!reader

WARNINGS: (probably) grammatical errors and a little of smut

GENDER: fluff and (a little) smut

BIBI'S NOTES: hey mes amours! It's my first time writing so if you have any feedback, pls don't hesitate to let me know! I want to warn you that English is not my native language, so forgive me for any mistakes!

Enjoy!

New York Fashion week used to be a major fashion event. Only people who were influential and important to fashion were able to be invited and honored with a presence in the big city.

The kpop industry was gaining more recognition and many more idols were going on to have worldwide careers. And Seokmin, or better known as Dokyeom or Dk, a member of a famous boy group called Seventeen, managed to be influential enough to be one of the guests.

He was sitting in the front row of the catwalk looking at all the new clothing collections and all that luxury, when his eyes met the eyes of an idol, it was Y/N, your ex-girlfriend, you were becoming famous in the Kpop industry and you finally had this opportunity to be present at such a big event. It had been a long time since you had broken up, not a single word had been exchanged.

Seokmin watched you with curious eyes, you were totally focused on the clothes and you looked different, your countenance was dazzling and mysterious at the same time. You hadn't realized that Seokmin had been looking at you since the beginning of the show; for him, the show didn't matter when he could simply observe your every detail and expression.

As he walked through the middle of a large, chic hall, full of people drinking their champagne and sporting their latest clothes after the big show, Seokmin tried to find the girl who had captured his attention. Until he saw the same pair of eyes that had always caught his attention: you were talking to a very influential person in fashion, but things didn't seem to be going well.

Seokmin approaches with a smile on his face

"Hello...Y/N right? Sorry to disturb your conversation, but can I talk to you for five minutes?" Seokmin smiles

When you realize who it is, your smile fades a little, after all you've been avoiding him. As soon as your eyes meet his, you remember all the past you've had and that night when you decided to give up on everything.

It was an ordinary Wednesday night when you decided to end it all. You'd known each other since you were 16, when you were just a trainee, and for as long as you can remember, you'd been in love with him. But the more time passed, the more you felt the pressure of being an idol, you simply didn't have a romantic life with Seokmin, you couldn't go out or have dinner together because everyone would know about your relationship and your company didn't want that. It had been three years since you were in this relationship and it seemed to only put pressure on you, your life revolved around hiding the relationship from the two of you.

Seokmin snaps two fingers in front of you making you wake up from all the thoughts and memories you had with him

"Long time, Y/N" He smiled

"What do you want to talk to me about?" You crossed your arms

"Well, you tour abroad and you can't speak English properly? You didn't seem to understand anything in that conversation"

"Of course I understood, I was just confused because she was talking too fast" you walk to a private corner while picking up a glass of wine

Seokmin accompanies you, he was curious about what had happened to you since the break-up

"How's life?" He leans against the wall and stares at you

"Are you really going to do that? You don't have to try to talk to me, after all, the last time we saw each other you hated me." You sip some wine, trying to forget how much that night hurt you.

"I didn't even remember that, I'm not holding any grudges... if it's all right for you, then it's all right for me" He gives you the same smile and waits for your reaction

"Then we're even" You give a forced smile

Just then, a waiter walked by with a tray of wine glasses. Seokmin reached out to take one, but a sudden stumble caused the glass to slip out of his hands, spilling the red liquid in his direction. Your dress is stained red, leaving you embarrassed and Seokmin ashamed

You look at him angrily

"Seokmin, look what you've done!" You grab a cloth and try to wipe it off, but it only makes matters worse

Seokmin looks totally embarrassed and worried

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to" he tries to help you, taking a cloth and trying to wipe it off

The stain was right on your stomach and a little close to your breasts, as you felt his touch after so long, your cheeks turned a little red and you tried to hide it with your anger

"Don't touch me Seokmin" you pulled away from him, walking into the great hall, inside you found a room where you took out your cell phone and called your manager, so you could get another dress.

Meanwhile Seokmin was trying to find where you were, after all he wanted to apologize and didn't want things to turn out this way.

You were standing with your arms folded with your back to the door waiting for your manager, after all he said he was close by. the door opens and you say

"Quick, open my dress, this smell of wine is bothering me" you say without looking to the door

you feel hands running down your back as open your dress, that feeling was familiar to you, and then you hear the voice of the person who caused all this

"I'm sorry Y/N... let me make it up to you..."

You turn around quickly with red cheeks and see that it's Seokmin

"What are you doing here? Do you want to cause more trouble?" You say trying not to give in, but it was difficult, all the old feelings were coming back.

He laughs a little and faces you "You know I didn't mean it... let me apologize the way I know how" He stares at you, waiting for your reaction as he gently brings your lips closer.

Your legs freeze and you just can't say anything, you wanted it, you wanted to feel Seokmin's lips again. By now you were totally surrendered to him.

When your eyes close and you feel Seokmin's lips, that familiar sensation takes over your whole body, you feel like you're home after a long time.

There was no hesitation when their lips finally met, a passion they had both been holding in for so long was finally released. Seokmin's hands were roaming all over your body, sending all kinds of impure thoughts to your brain. Your lips were in perfect sync, as were your tongues, which were also present in the kiss.

When you both finally ran out of air, Seokmin pulled away and whispered in a hoarse voice with his eyes closed

"I want you...like I've always wanted since I was 16" he opened his eyes and faced her "come back to me Y/N...come home"

That was the pinnacle for you, after those words you could no longer hold in all that passion that had been stored up for so long, you brought your lips together again, causing Seokmin to pull you in, closing any kind of space between the two of you.

His hands were still on her body, and they went to her open zipper, pulling the stained dress down completely. "At least the accident did some good," he said, totally mesmerized by your body in just your underwear. You roll your eyes and laugh softly, "My God, how could I have stayed away from you for so long?" He stares at you with that smile as his kisses trail down to your neck, low moans coming from your mouth as Seokmin leaves marks on your neck.

"This is so wrong, but it feels so right," you whisper. There was no doubt about your feelings for each other and you could no longer resist the physical attraction

In one swift movement, Seokmin picks you up and places you on a random table in the room. In the meantime, his mouth never left your neck, making you continue to moan and driving him crazy "One day you're going to kill me with pleasure Y/N" he said between kisses

"Don't worry, I'm already doing it now" you let out a smile and your hands go down to Seokmin's blouse.

As your hands slowly move down to Seokmin's dress shirt, the intensity of the moment intensifies. The fabric of the shirt ripples with every movement of your touch. His fingers slide between the buttons of Seokmin's shirt, teasing him with each stroke. Soon, the shirt begins to move lower and lower, revealing more and more of Seokmin's muscular frame underneath.

you can feel your own heart pounding and the heat rising through your skin. Perhaps Seokmin's claim that you were already "killing him with pleasure" was right all along.

He stopped kissing her neck and faced her as he slowly descended, looking into her eyes. He was at the height of her legs, while his hands caressed her thighs as he slowly spread her legs apart.

"For you I keep my legs open and forget everything" you said in a sensual and provocative way

Seokmin's smile widened and he left a kiss on the inside of her thigh

"I know, but maybe you can't keep them open for long," he says, teasing you even more

His kisses move upwards until they almost reach the middle of your leg, and then your phone rings, taking all the focus away from you.

You pick it up and your eyes go wide and you quickly get up from the table, looking for your dress and leaving Seokmin at a loss.

The call is ended and you say "My manager is here, he's looking for me, quick, get out of here" you say desperately and put on your stained dress

He gives you a mischievous smile "well, looks like we'll have an audience to see what I'm going to do to you" he approaches you again and you push him towards the door "stop Seokmin, no one can catch us here"

He laughs and then opens the door saying "Fine, fine but...I'm not done with you yet"

@bbiine, 2023

[officalroyalsofpierreland]

Wedding of HRH Prince Oliver, Duke of Rothsey & HIH Madame Hortense of Francesim Part 1

Travis: Welcome Everyone to a sunny and joyous Edinburgh for dare I say, the wedding of the year! Today, the world has flocked north to witness HRH Prince Oliver of the Scots, Duke of Rothsey finally get his girl and marry the amazing and angelic HIH Madame Hortense of Francesim. I’m Travis Middelton of the Scottish Broadcasting Corporation and I am joined by the one and only Stéphane Bernard of Francesim 2. Sir, it is an honor to present alongside such a legend. Stéphane: Thank you Travis. It is great to be presenting alongside my fellow colleagues at the SBC. Your warm hospitality, and the hospitality of the kingdom have been on show for the past 2 weeks between the charity gala and engagements conducted with both families.

Stéphane: I, myself feel a bit emotional today as the French have been waiting for this moment since Madame Hortense has been born. The first wedding of a French Princess for the first time in over 200 years! Travis: A historic moment indeed! Stéphane and I will be here for every moment of the day, giving context and insights on both Scottish and French elements that will influence these proceedings from our perch here near St. Andrew’s Cathedral.

Stéphane: And I see that Prime Minister Amara Ahmad and her husband are arriving as one of the first political guests of the day. Will we see an abundance of kilts today? Travis: Potentially! Guests who are not in the military are encouraged to wear it and I do know that the groom has at least 3 cousins who are too young for military service so we should be seeing some kilt action. Stéphane: And the groom? We’ve received word that he has an honorary appointment as Colonel of the King’s Highlanders. Travis: We will see him in a kilt! It is the first time in a very long time since a royal groom was seen in a kilt, so this will be a treat.

Stéphane: Well I think some colleagues in Paris are buying lunch on my return as the young people of the office did bet on the Duke wearing a kilt today! We now are seeing Queen Diana of Simdonia and her devoted husband Prince Gerhard entering the cathedral, looking very striking in red, which is a color for both The Kingdom of Scots and Simdonia. Travis: Queen Diana always stuns in her fashion and Prince Gerhard has redefined the word dapper. The bride and groom were present at Prince Gerhard’s Victory Games earlier this year in their first engagement of as fiancés. Stéphane: Yes they were! Prince Oliver won 1st I believe on behalf of the Wounded Warrior Foundation with the support of Madame Hortense. I do believe I have seen many servicemen entering the cathedral. An honor for them, to witness this moment at the invitation of their future king.

Travis: It was quite a touching but not surprising gesture from Prince Oliver as wounded servicemen hold a special place in his heart. Back to the royal arrivals, HM Queen Anastasia of Carrington and her husband HRH the Duke of Clois have arrived looking stunning in light blue. Stéphane: Which has been a color Madame Hortense has been seen in many times. It was the official colour worn by the women of the French imperial family abroad. The Queen and Duke from Carrington seemed to make fast friends with the bride and groom based off stills from the gala.

Stéphane: And one of the first members of the couple’s extended family have arrived. The Grand Duke & Duchess of Bordeaux who are also known as the Duchess and Earl Consort of Carlisle are here with the Grand Duke wearing his Imperial Air Force uniform while the Grand Duchess stuns in a subded dark green Travis: Next to them is the Grand Duke’s twin, Mrs Isabella Villa and her husband Mr. Sebastian Villa. The Bordeaux siblings are cousins to Prince Oliver and the Grand Duke has been seen with Prince Oliver here in Scots as children. Very interesting that we see nothing from Mr. Felipe Valois who has closer ties to the couple since he served aboard a naval submarine with Emperor Napoleon V.

Stéphane: Turning to guests taking their seats inside, King Arnaut and Queen Lorraine of Uspana are looking regal and cheerful today. I do love the homage to Uspanan culture from the King. King Alexander is encouraging national dress today? Travis: Absolutely! If we were to wear kilts but deny other’s their cultural emblems, we’d be a little silly no? I do love the yellow accents on Queen Lorraine, a sunny pop of color inside this very grey cathedral. We have also just received word that Prince Oliver and his best man, Lord Callen MacDonald have left Highland House, where Prince Oliver spent some time with his close friends including several of his cousins.

Stéphane: We’ll be keeping tabs on the groom’s arrival as we look again outside and see that another set of newlyweds have arrived, Queen Viviana II & King Phillippe of the Ionian Union! Philippe is Madame Hortense's first cousin, and second in line to the imperial throne of Francesim. Travis: Wedded bliss looks wonderful on them and I like the feather motif with the pair. And more countries should use purple as a uniform colour.

Stéphane: A regal color for sure. King Harrison of Brighton is being led to his seat. Dare I say, a bold fashion choice to opt for a patterned waistcoat! He was seen conversing with HIM Madame Mère last night, the two sharing the loss of spouses.

Travis: Just now arriving is the ever youthful Queen Elizabeth of Trenton and HRH the Duke of Glassworth. What is in the trentonian water and how can I get it? If I get to age as gracefully as Her Majesty and His Royal Highness, I would consider myself extra blessed.

@bridgeportbritt @royalhouseofcarrington @nexility-sims @funkyllama @empiredesimparte @covingtons @trentonsimblr

[ateez-ana]

Ana on Instagram

a view of Ana's first post in the last 72 hours

second post

liked by im_ovation and 890,990 others

lalanabanana picnic in paris with the best photographer

Hongjoong and Ana are in Paris to attend the fashion week that is taking place in the city of love, they both decided to walk through the city and have a picnic, many fans and reporters saw them walking hand in hand during the day and leaving the hotel where they were staying for a night walk along the Seine River, the photos uploaded by Ana are a small sample of the small and intimate experience that the couple had in Paris, which has raised rumors around the ship

In the heart of Paris, amid the grandeur of Fashion Week, romance blossomed between Hongjoong and Ana, They strolled hand-in-hand through the cobblestoned streets, their whispers echoing in the romantic ambiance. They paused at a quaint park, sharing a picnic beneath the shade of a chestnut tree. Ana's laughter punctuated the air as Hongjoong's gentle touch sent shivers down her spine. As night fell, they embarked on an intimate walk along the Seine. The city lights danced upon the water's surface, casting an ethereal glow over their stolen moments. With no witnesses save the stars above, they kissed, their love a secret concealed from the world. Ana's social media posts from that day hinted at their clandestine adventure, sparking rumors among their devoted fans. The public remained oblivious, but the shared glances and whispered promises spoke volumes of their newfound connection. And so, in the city of love, Hongjoong and Ana's romance remained a sweet secret, cherished only by two hearts entwined.

third post

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lalanabanana it has been such a great honor to be part of louis vuitton dinner gala What an unforgettable night

Ana, a radiant vision in a cerulean gown that shimmered like moonlight on the Seine, was the epitome of elegance at the Louis Vuitton gala. As Ateez's ambassador, she graced the red carpet with a captivating smile, her presence radiating warmth and charisma. Beside her stood Felix,  member of Stray Kids, who sported a classic black suit that accentuated his sharp features. 'Ana's dress is absolutely breathtaking!' gushed a fashion critic, capturing the collective gasp that swept through the crowd. 'It's a bold yet sophisticated choice, perfectly complementing her ethereal beauty.' 'Ana is a vision!' exclaimed actress Cate Blanchett. 'Her dress enhances her natural beauty.'

'Felix looks effortlessly suave,' another commentator chimed in. 'He embodies the timeless charm of Louis Vuitton.' At the dinner table, Ana and Felix shared a quiet conversation, catching up on their busy schedules and exchanging playful banter. Their easy camaraderie, built upon years of friendship, was evident in their shared laughter and knowing glances. They were two stars, shining brightly on their own, yet finding comfort in each other's company, a testament to the unspoken bond between two souls who understood the demanding world they navigated.

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lalanabanana Congratulations on 10 years of @nicolasghesquiere A big thank you for inviting me, the last show of fashion week ends in style

The air crackled with anticipation as Ana, walked into the Louis Vuitton show. It was the final night of Paris Fashion Week, and Nicolas Ghesquière, celebrating ten years at the helm, had invited her to be part of the exclusive guest list. Dressed in a tailored, ivory ensemble, the press buzzed with excitement. Her outfit, a stark contrast to the usual bold fashion choices on the red carpet, drew a sea of flashbulbs.

'Ana’s understated chicness is a refreshing change,' one fashion critic declared, noting the nine white flowers delicately embroidered on the bodice, each representing a member of ATEEZ. 'It’s a subtle nod to her group, while still embodying Vuitton’s elegance.'Her fans, known as ATINY, were ecstatic. The internet erupted with photos and videos of Ana, her smile radiant as she greeted fellow guests.

The after-party was a whirlwind of champagne, laughter, and celebrity sightings. Ana found herself chatting with Sophie Turner, discussing the beauty of the collection, and later, dancing with Emma Stone. Videos of her laughing and enjoying the night with her new acquaintances went viral, generating even more buzz for ATEEZ. 'It was an incredible experience,' Ana said in a post-event interview, her eyes sparkling. 'The collection was so beautiful, and I especially loved the celebratory feeling of the night. It was a true honor to be invited.' As she spoke, she gently touched the flowers on her dress, her voice softening. 'These represent my brothers,' she said, a hint of pride in her tone. 'Each petal represents their individual talents and the unique bond we share. It’s a reminder that we’re all connected, even when we’re apart. The night was a testament to Ana’s own rising star. She wasn't just a K-pop idol; she was a fashion icon, a force to be reckoned with, a young woman embracing her individuality and using her platform to promote her group and her values. And the nine white flowers, blooming on her dress, were a silent testament to the love and loyalty that bound her to ATEEZ.

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lalanabanana Morocco time, now my day smelled like 8 men again, how loving, ready to rock the desert

The day Ana returned to the others was the day before her presentation at the festival in Morocco, so they had a few hours in the afternoon to rest in the pool, where Ana gave the boys the gifts she brought them. From Paris to each one, Hongjoong and Ana looked even more romantic than ever, which caused the boys to tease them and wonder how much the couple did on the short trip they had together.

[aromanticannibal]

Present Mic headcanons! he lives in my head :D (edited as of Nov. 2023)

He's powerfully homosexual he loves men SO much.

He's demiromantic! He's only ever been in love with Oboro and Shouta

He's so fucking tall. And he wears platforms. And his hair is. It's his hair

So many freckles. He has red head skin, pale with so many freckles

Part American on his mother's side, his parents are divorced and the mom lives in the US

Heterochromia Mic my beloved. One green eye one red eye, they're so damn bright too. He makes heterochromia jokes with Shouto.

Fashion wise, he's a very strange mix between a punk, an English teacher (as in, language teacher, not literature teacher) and this one guy who's shirtless and wearing rainbow makeup and glitter at Pride.

He's so blind without his glasses, it's terrible. He's also deaf because of his quirk

For these reasons, he uses his platform as a popular hero and radio personality to talk about disabled people and stuff. He also talks about queerphobia issues and quirk discrimination, though he tends to focus more on blatant differences like Shouji or Tokoyami type of quirk.

When the main kids are in third year, they start being surprise guests on his show and talk about other issues with him (and just fun stuff as well). The first one to participate is of course, hero nerd Midoriya.

Hizashi and Shouta have what the experts call a weird ass relationship. For the longest time, they just lived together without really dating but being completely aware they were in love with each other. One day Shouta told Hizashi it would be easier if they were married for like tax purposes and stuff. So everyone thought they were getting married platonically but they organized a wedding and stuff. Midnight was the maid of honor and Shouta's cat was the best man (his name is Bastard). A couple of heroes they're friends with and trust were invited (Tensei, Yagi - though Shouta was reluctant - 13...) as well as some vigilantes Shouta's friends with, and after a lot of begging, 1-A students (they had to sign a contract that said they couldn't tell anyone about the wedding or take pictures). It was cheesy as possible, completely normal wedding, but after it happened, Shouta and Hizashi never acknowledged it again. Kaminari is wondering if he hallucinated them kissing and slow-dancing together. They also kept the same last name. The only thing that changed is that they're more affectionate in private, and that they call each other their husband.

An Hizashi themed clickbait article would probably be "PRESENT MIC'S HUSBAND'S IDENTITY REVEALED????"

Hizashi sometimes says he has a husband in passing and everyone clinged onto this fact and is desperately trying to find out who the husband is. Midoriya is incredibly happy to know he has hero knowledge only a few select people are aware of.

Going back to Hizashi specific stuff, the man has some powerful ADHD (Shouta is autistic, they're the ADHD autism couple) but he very strangely knows how to deal with it. He knows how he functions so he does really weird stuff sometimes or does things in an allegedly inefficient way because it'll ultimately will make him do more stuff

He also has the new hobby every month disease, except he actually learns a lot and his hobbies kind of rotate, so he's very good at very random stuff. For exemple : embroidery (but he can't sew for shit), a shit ton of instruments (but not the drums), he knows a lot about cats (this fixation was started by Shouta's own special interest in cats), he knows how color theory works (somehow), he's very good at cutting or dying hair, etc.

In high school he had to make an essay about quirk laws but he was uninspired so he desperately tried for a week to make himself fixate on quirk laws, finally writing his essay five hours before the deadline. The consequence of this was an hyperfixation on quirk and hero laws a month later, which plagued him for an entire month more. He therefore knows a lot about laws.

He had an emo phase in middle school. I know it, Horikoshi told me

Hizashi becomes incredibly irritable when it's raining or storming, similar to how Shouta becomes quiet and distant in that weather.

He has a lot of piercings but only where people can't see. Where that ends up being is your choice, I have my own ideas :)

He actually has anger issues, similar to Bakugou, but is way better at handling them. This, in addition to them both being deaf/partially deaf, should have made them somewhat close, but Hizashi actually really dislikes Bakugou.

He has favorites, and unlike Shouta, he very much says who his favorites are. (Uraraka, Kaminari, Shinsou, Jirou and Kouda. He also likes Todoroki but not as much as the other faves) He definitely gets merch of them once it's available (and creates Shinsou merch for him and Shouta, like how he made Eraserhead merch)

Because this is still my blog here's a point about Shimsou, my son the light of my world : Hizashi takes a liking to the kid immediately because of how much he looks like Shouta. He also likes his sarcasm and smartass attitude, he thinks it's adorable (which Shinsou evidently hates). While Shouta won't adopt Shinsou, they're still like father and son to each other, and Shinsou jokes by calling Hizashi his step-dad.

He's very protective of his friends and very good at noticing when something is bothering them.

HE CAN UNHINGE HIS JAW. His fans find it very hot (it's me, I'm his fans)

Everytime he tries to dress up nicely, he fails miserably (case on point : this). He's infamous for it.

He doesn't especially like small children, except for ONE small child and it's Eri. She's the light of his life he loves her so much.

After Shouta adopts her and Hizashi gets custody of her as well by default, he immediately starts researching how to be a good step-dad. Eri will for some reason start calling him her uncle, despite him being married to her dad, but Hizashi is fine with it, he loves just being a part of the little girl's life.

He's a KING at Just Dance and karaoke nights.

My hand is, for some mysterious reason, itchy. So this is the end of the post :D

Feel free to tell me about ur own headcanons whenever /gen

[venusinmyrrh]

mid-year (ish) reading roundup

I never got how people could read 52 books in 52 weeks, but then I got a library card and downloaded the Libby app, and now holy shit I've read 52 books by August. anyway I borrowed this questionnaire from @wormwoodandhoney!

best book you’ve read so far in 2023? Dress Codes: How the Laws of Fashion Made History by Richard Thompson Ford. this is exactly the kind of academic book on fashion that I've been dying for. I want ten more of these and to kiss him on the mouth.

best sequel you’ve read so far in 2023? I don't usually read series, but I made an exception for Hannah Whitten's For the Wolf, and I'm so glad I did. it took me a while to fall in love with this fantasy twist on Red Riding Hood, but once I did, I fell hard, and I'm planning on reading the sequel For the Throne once it's finally released.

new release you haven’t read yet, but want to: I don't really keep up with releases, but the new releases I've enjoyed most recently are The Guest by Emma Cline, about a low-level con woman drifting through the New York upper class, and Silver Nitrate by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, about a sound editor in 1990s Mexico who gets caught up in an occultist's plot dating back to old Hollywood.

most anticipated release for the second half of the year: this is cheating because it's coming out in February, but the teasers for Saint Gibson's An Education in Malice already have me drooling.

biggest surprise: I picked Art and Madness: A Memoir of Lust Without Reason by Anne Roiphe at random off a prop bookshelf backstage, and immediately experienced that wonderful shock you get when meet a stranger who understands you perfectly.

favorite new author (debut or new to you): Jeannette Ng, whose Victorian gothic fantasy romance Under the Pendulum Sun I devoured in less than 24 hours.

newest favorite character: a tie between Catherine Helstone (Under the Pendulum Sun) and Noemí Taboada (Mexican Gothic).

book that made you cry: The Unexpurgated Beaton. these are British photographer, designer, and former Bright Young Thing Cecil Beaton's unedited diaries from the last ten years of his life, and I knew this going in, but still, somehow, it snuck up on me that he dies in the end.

book that made you happy: Maurice by E.M. Forster! what a relief, what a joy, to know that tales of queer love could have happy endings, even in 1914.

most beautiful book you’ve bought so far this year (or received): that honor would have to go to Kit Mayquist's modern gothic novel Tripping Arcadia!

what books do you need to read by the end of the year? Gods of Jade and Shadow (Silvia Moreno-Garcia), Save Me the Waltz (Zelda Fitzgerald), The Language of Fashion (Roland Barthes), and Other People's Shoes: Thoughts on Acting (Harriet Walter)

[hollowbastions]

Max +🌸cropped hoodie🌸

[bradpittwh0re]

Y/N L/N gets ready for the Oscars

brad pitt x model!reader

Y/N L/N highest paid supermodel in the world, gets ready for THE OSCARS , with guest appearances from oscar nominated boyfriend Brad Pitt, dressed in Balenciaga.

“Hey Vogue, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Come get ready with me for this years Oscar Ceremony” Y/N says as she powerwalks into the room.

“So the dress is here. I’m so excited “ you voiced to the camera. “She’s here from Paris. You ready?“ your assistant added. ”It’s a Balenciaga gown and we are just really excited by it“ you reiterate as your assistant takes it out of the bag. ”Demna and Balenciaga actually reached out to me when I was in Paris for Fashion Week and I’m extremely honored to be able to wear something from their Haute Couture Collection this year. I keep saying I’m excited because I am like this is my first Oscars and I’m going with Balenciaga I think it's very different for me, very Balenciaga very elegant and beautiful in my opinion.”

“Time for Glam” The camera transitions to Y/N in a chair getting her hair and makeup done. ”So we are in the glam chair now. This is my legendary makeup artist, Mary Phillips, and my one and only hairstylist Jen Atkins, and my boyfriend Bulldog Jacques” Y/N says this as she plays with the dog. “Every time we're getting ready, it’s like one thing gets the moment, So it’s either the hair, the makeup or the outfit if you do it all it becomes too much. So we are letting the dress have its moment but we’re obviously going to have fun with the makeup and hair but still keep it simple.”

“For my skincare, I’ve always found that less is more. I think if anything I love doing a hydrating mask or a treatment mask either the day before or like the morning of depending on timing. But otherwise, I drink a ton of water all day, I just want to feel really hydrated. I normally prefer a chill day compared to this because I’m a naturally sleepy girl which is weird because I’m a model which is a very fast-paced job. Tonight I’m just really excited for Brad cause this is his first Oscar nomination and he worked so hard for this and for his acting ability to be recognized by the Academy is huge. I’m just so proud of him tonight. Were not finished just yet but we are getting there.”

The camera transitions to Y/N in the kitchen making tequila. ”Why not have a little tequila to loosen us up before you go out on a carpet. As Y/N mixes the drink she says ” Again , I have never claimed to be a bartender so do not judge my lack of skills.”

“It is time for me to get changed So I will be right back.“

The camera cut to doing a montage of Y/N modeling the Haute Couture Gown in the living room with slow upbeat music playing.

The final scene of the video is Y/N and Brad leaving the Hotel room. Brad says in a playful way “Oh My God , I get to go with Y/N L/N to the Oscars ”. After he said that she hit his arm jokingly. We see glimpses of Brad and Y/N on the red carpet with reporters following their every move. 

Lastly we see Brad win Best Supporting Actors for Jeffrey Goines in “Twelve Monkeys” and Y/N kisses him on the cheek before he goes and collects his award.

[yanderenightmare]

i have barbarian!bakugou with a princess/royal darling on my mind CONSTANTLYYYY i can imagine him proposing a marriage between their families for “strengthening allies” but is threatening her family if they don’t hand over their daughter

barbarian king ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, obsession, human trafficking ig, arranged marriage, condescension, degradation, some religious connotations, discrimination ig

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

She used to think she was so safe.

As safe as safe could be. The safest person in the world.

In her brick tower, in her pretty dresses, wrapped in Mulberry silk, bed made of Egyptian cotton, velvet pillows, diamonds around her neck, around her wrists, in her hair, decorating her gowns, studded on her shoes, telling a blinding story of how high above she sauntered over everyone else. 

Strictly untouchable. 

As soverign as the gods in the sky.

Bakugo had first seen her during negotiations between him and her father.

How could he have missed her?

With how she lit up the room like the sun, embroidered with silver and gold, lined with gems and stones, fabric sewn with threads of starlight, her hair thrown up and locked with what marvellous bejewelled tiara, her neck collared with jewellery of the same fashion, as were her wrists, and those crystal slippers of hers clicking on the stone-tiles, demanding his attention, eyes so very vainly unbothered and disgusted at the sight of his unkempt brute stature.

It amused him. 

He knew then, it wasn’t only their kingdom that needed conquering.

He had already taken every Kingdom south of theirs and would continue to take and strengthen his forces moving beyond their Kingdom into the north.

Looking at him she thought he was mad, amusing even, a tragic joke, a savage among savages, not a King. His forces lacking organization and therefor never able to topple a Kingdom such as her father’s. 

She felt safe.

Still she felt safe despite admitting he was scary, coated in blood he hadn’t bothered to wash off, maniacal grin stretched upon his face, eyes lustful and dominant as they met hers, hungry when looking her up and down, licking his teeth when smiling while eying her pretty pearls and pretty hair and pretty little face, not a single scratch on her, just pretty like a doll. 

She still thought she was safe.

She thought her father would laugh at the so-called barbarian King, tell him he was in way over his head, tell him to get his hooligan tribe out of their court, out of their land, never to show their miserable faces ever again.

But alas... her father did no such thing. 

She’d deemed it out of courtesy, her father was a man of honor, of decorum, and he wouldn’t ridicule a guest in such a demeaning way, despite the guest being but a peasant.

And as the weeks passed, days ticking away to what would be their second negotiations, she still felt safe, so wrongfully safe, thinking her father would finally put his foot down and declare war against the barbarian tribe. 

However, he was doing nothing of the sorts, instead he was… bargaining… begging, as though he with his golden crown was equal to what filth took presence in his court.

That’s when Bakugo proposed a new deal, his carmine eyes never once leaving her even as her father kneeled on the floor.

He said he would settle for joining his and their Kingdom, but only under the condition that the King’s daughter would be gifted to him in union, in holy matrimony, as a sign of respect and good faith, a peace-treaty.

That’s when she wasn’t feeling at all that safe anymore.

It wasn’t unheard of... Her parents had married for the same reason... but truly they wouldn’t give her away to some brute.

She couldn’t understand... why were they bending the knee?

How could this peasant barbarian scum pose any threat? How? How was this reality? How was this happening to her?

She cried into her Egyptian cotton bedsheets that night, balled up her velvet duvet, drowned herself in Mulberry silk pillows as she screamed in her brick tower. 

She had been prepared for being a bargaining-chip, groomed as any princess should be, but what she had imagined was to be given to some elegant prince of the same stature, who would kiss her knuckles and give her flowers and write pretty pages of pretty words all for her, like that Shoto from the Todoroki clan in the north, and not at all any blood-soaked battle-kissed scarred tattooed madman from nowhere with a Kingdom of dust and mud and blood and smoke.

The last of her hope was splattered like a dove shot down with an arrow.

Her father accepting the terms on the day of their third negotiations, accepting defeat, accepting an end to his reign, raising a toast to the new King, wishing him luck and peace and good health, hoping his daughter would not disappoint, because if she did, they were all as good as dead.

She didn't allow her mask to fall. Didn't allow for anyone to see her fear and how she pondered relieving herself of all duties to the King and her family and the Kingdom by throwing herself from her tower in the night.

She didn't dare nor care to look at the red-eyed man, not even to get a better image of what exactly it was she would be sleeping next to for the rest of her days.

All she now cared about was how and when was the best time for her to slip away.

She could become a seamstress or a barmaid somewhere... or she could train to hunt for her own food.

Granted... she wasn't allowed to learn how to shoot with the bow, nor had she ever been given enough time to fully learn to sow lest she get callouses, and nor did she know the first thing about mead or any other type of brew, not to mention the difference between a pint and a quart or what a bloody tankard even was.

She could at least mop floors...

Though... she failed to see how she would ever survive such a trait.

Prostitution would be among the only things she seemed well-adapt for it would seem....

Meaning... she might as well just stay...

And so she stayed, counting down what few days she had left of freedom, days she were still allowed to sleep alone in her bed without having to share it with some strange scary red-eyed man.

But then time did what it had done since the beginning of forever, and her freedom was spent as the special day dawned.

Her father had agreed to allow for the barbarian-traditions to dominate the wedding. An affair held outside in the wilderness, in the dark of night, beneath the moonlight, amongst the howls and the trees and the mud instead of in their glass-temple during the day, in the presence of god.

She wasn’t even allowed to where her own gown.

She didn’t need to spot her mother in the crowd to know if she was there, she could hear her, bawling at what disgrace her daughter was put through, seeing her draped in nothing but a shawl, thin fabric wrapped around her breasts and again around her nether regions, leaving her stomach and arms and thighs and legs and feet completely in the nude, like some harlet you’d find in the brothel, far from how the future Queen should be presented. 

She’d been decorated in barbarian customs too.

But, not in any silly trinkets such as jewels.

The butch females from the Boy-King’s army had instead spent hours painting wild cascading swirling roots across her limbs, jeering at her all the while they did so, not in any language she could speak but aloud and in her face, jiggling her wrists and manhandling her about in a way she understood what they were saying nonetheless, feeling it, how their shield-maiden statures loomed above her with a type of strength she’d never seen from any woman, how strong and tall and gorgeous they were, a type of beauty she hadn't thought even existed, though being right in front of her, mocking her, allowing for some words of her own language to seep in, warning her of how someone as dainty and delicate wouldn’t last a single week with their leader, how he would use her until she broke like any other dog would do when given a toy.

And, it was only further a strange affair.

Where, instead of her father leading her up to and giving her away to the ash-blonde for him to take, she walked beside the barbarian King, not behind him, not even with a single step, but side by side, as though they were something as ridiculous as equals.

Feet bare over the barnacles, she hissed every now and again as she walked, listening to his troops. Still strangely both men and women, whooping and cheering and whistling, raising weapons in the air, saluting and creating shattering eardrum-bleeding music with the harsh clanging of metal, like it was a battle-field and not a wedding, awaking whatever beasts laid hidden in deep slumber amongst the trees. 

He as well walked barefooted in the mud, though he didn’t seem to struggle with the task as much as she did. His broad muscled chest naked. His whole body nearly nude from top to bottom, if it weren’t for the cloth wrapped around his hips and the crown adorning his head, which the more she looked, more she grew certain was made up of bird-beaks, miles away from her mothers gold and ruby ornate diadem which now sat strangely atop her head, being the one thing she’d been allowed of her own traditions. 

He was painted too, similarly to her. Lined with red and black streaks, intricate patterns running along his limbs, even around his eyes, making the carmine blood-soaked look of them pop as though they were luminescent, like a wolf’s nocturnal gaze when eyeing his prey.

Looking down at her.

And she couldn't hope to look away when he took her arm, his large scathed overworked hands grabbing around her wrists, nodding for her to follow his lead as she stared at him wide-eyed with not a single clue as to what any of it meant.

She flinched as a woman drenched in black ink with eyes white like moons and fingers slender with nails just as long swirled a lock of leather around their conjoined hands. 

But as she eyed the strange ritual she was caught in the middle of, eyes shook with anxiety as her much smaller palm grew sweaty in the warriors grip, her focus was pulled completely at the oddity of the sermon the shadow priestess began chanting in their favor.

“Man and Woman Hands bound and two become one Minds become mind Bodies become body Hearts become heart”

He pulled on her wrist and she tripped a bit by the surprise, cheeks burning by the jeering crowd that stood like demons around them, laughing at how she handled the ceremony like a baby born deer, her small body steadying itself against his broad chest, whimpering as his lips pushed onto hers, with little regard to how it was her first kiss.

“God and Goddess Breaths shared and one becomes reborn Lives become life Spirits become spirit Souls become soul”

He pulled away with the chunk of her lips still caught between his teeth, a deep growl in his chest as he gazed into her terror-wide eyes with a crazed drunken look in his own.

“You are one above the earth Like dirt your union is a base of growth From which you have arisen”

She was caught thinking how strange it was to have the taste of someone else on her tongue, swallowing thickly as her cheeks burned even brighter, head going ditzy at the lude thought. 

“You are one below the sky Like stars your union is a source of light Where which you will ascend”

It had her brows furrowed, tremor, as she repeated the lines in her head. Ashamed at how she had to admit she liked those vows better than whatever surrendering promises she’d have to force out through grit teeth in the church.

However, where it did differ from the church in some ways, quite alike the events that would have occurred before the cross, it was still with those few words and that one brief kiss, that the deal was done.

And following it, the feast. Though, not decked in the great hall like she’d imagined each time she’d fantasised about marrying some handsome Prince Charming that’d vouched for her hand, but scattered around bonfires in the deep dark of the forest with the howling of both manly monsters and those other creatures dwelling amongst the trees.

And then there was dancing. But not ball-room dancing, not tame scheduled movements of hands and feet like she'd spent her whole life perfecting, but spiritual flailing around the fires, movements taken as though from the demons, casting eerie shadows onto the dirt. Figures moving not at all like any human should, wearing crowns of sticks and others of flowers, dark capes mocking the shape of crow and batwings as they seemed to fly around the raging roaring flames with not a shred of fear of catching fire.

There was music and song too. But, not from any orchestra or trained vocals, but dark rusts bleeding in with the other howling sounds that seeped form what beasts surrounded them beyond where their light was cast, ancient words she hadn't the clue as to what meant though felt the presence of either way, how they hung thickly in the air like a spell as they chanted them again and again, screeching and roaring, stomping and clapping and beating their chests.

She felt like she would pass out being caught in the middle of the fray as she was, being thrown from one person to the other, made to run barefooted around the fires with the rest of the maniacs, feeling her frail limbs and taunt muscles ache with the speed and turmoil of movement she was forced to endure. Sweat dripping down her like rain, smudging and smearing what precise paint strokes had been lining her flesh before, until it looked as though she’d simply been rolling around in the dirt like any other of the savages. 

She was at one point hauled up on his shoulders, feeling her hips ache and legs cramping at the blood pooling where gravity had it pulled as she held on for dear life in the whirl and twirl and turmoil of it all.

However, thrilling and unending as it all might have felt like in the moment, it had all gone by in such an overwhelming blur she didn't even remember when or how she’d been escorted back into the castle nor that her chambermaid had taken the liberty of scrubbing all hedonistic attire from her otherwise innocent body.

Placed back in the safety of her bedroom, waking up in the cloudy cake of her bed all silvery and soft and safe and rinsed clean of all paint and mud and sweat and grime and bitter stinking mead from the night before.

And she sighed, looking around her familiar chamber, her gowns and dresses hung up on racks circling the room, lining the walls, her shoes neatly stacked beneath her dresses, on display for her choosing. Feeling like it was all some fever dream, her heart beating like possessed by a humming-bird until she allowed herself a moment of peace, knowing she was alone and not hauled up in some cesspool of savage fuckery.

And she truly felt safe for a moment again.

Until, inevitably, coming to the dawning realisation that it was the last night she’d ever spend alone. Last night before she’d have to share her bed, her heart, her body, with the red-eyed demon she’d been betrothed to the previous night.

She knew the world was far away from fair, but in her ignorance she’d looked at herself as not part of what world transpired outside and beneath the thick thousand-brick walls of her tower.

And now, standing in her floral white virgin gown, a new dress which was rather an old dress made and kept for this exact occasion, pure angel-light like passed down from the heavens, skirt trailing behind her like a carpet of snow, her hair laid naturally and splayed thickly down around her shoulders where her chambermaid had brushed through it about a hundred times to make sure it was all silky and smooth, loose and fair and perfect like the virgin she was, given away to some barbarian who wouldn’t value what sacred place found between her legs, a madman who didn't worship the same gods she did, who hadn't the mind to appreciate that she’d been groomed entirely for this purpose, for this moment, to look perfectly innocent for a man that is anything but, a man who would most likely take, abuse it and throw it away once he grew bored, she wanted to cry and rip everything to shreds, screaming how this wasn’t fair, she wanted nothing more but to give herself away to her bratty nature, be the spoiled demanding princess she grew up to be.

But, she couldn’t.

She should have enjoyed it while it lasted, because when night arrived this day, she would no longer be a girl but a woman, no longer a princess but a queen, no longer free but collared and muzzled by the gold of a fucking wedding ring.

She had her back to the door once she heard it opening close to midnight, knowing it could only be one person, the one she was told to expect. 

She could hear him breathing. Her ears burning because of it. 

She’d stepped out of her shoes at some point before he arrived. Not that she had at all thought through exactly what she planned on doing with the heel she was clutching tightly in her hand, knuckles whitening as she bit her lip even harder, something else being kept tight in her other fist.

She must not have been thinking at all. Perhaps had the tight-lacing of her dress ceased the blood flow or was not allowing enough air to pass into her lungs. Regardless, nothing could absolve her from the fact that she’d just whipped around and chucked her shoe in the direction of the new King.

Nor could anything save her from herself as she screeched. “Stay away, you oaf!”

A smile stretched from the corner of his mouth, sly and amused as he eyed the tiny princess. His princess. Or actually... his Queen now. 

The room a dark ominous type of romantic, scented candles lighting the chamber with a glowing warmth, furs and quilts spread on the bed with fine silken pillows and undoubtedly soft Egyptian sheets. Her royal bed, how he couldn't wait to fuck her into a screaming mess in it.

“In the end… noble or not… crowned or crownless… we’re all made of flesh that can be torn and bones than can be broken…” He stated, voice dark and gruff. “Right, Princess?” 

He stalked closer to where she was hauled up in the corner of the room, on the other side of the bed.

“So you ask yourself, can your diamonds protect you from my teeth?”

She clutched what was in her hand even tighter, feeling her palm sweat at the look of the unsightly demonic smile carved on the face of the man before her. 

“Do you think your pretty silk dresses can hide you from me?” He taunted, thick-muscled fingers beginning to pop buttons to what white ceremonial shirt he’d been begged to put on. Throwing the fine-sewn piece rather unceremoniously into a heap on the floor. “Or are you praying I’d take pity on you?”

“Stay away.” She whimpered, pointing what metallic weaponry she’d swiped from her breakfast tray this morning in his direction, swallowing thickly as she shook.

“What’s that you got? A pocket-knife?” He chuckled, rounding the corner of the bed, stepping infinitely closer with only a few heavy steps.

Red eyes glowing with amusement at a closer look at what she held defensively in her small hand, teeth baring even wider as her breath shuddered.

“What you plan on doing with a cake-fork, Princess?”

She frowned, pointing the silverware even harder at him, trying to straighten out her trembling.

“Hit you were it hurts.”

Her other fist clenched at her side as she bit out her threat, standing stiffly as she shook in her defensive stance in her silly little virgin dress.

“So, the little brat wants to play?”

His eyes glinted at the defiant sparks the little thing in front of him cast his way. 

“I play with dragons that snack on puny things like you for breakfast, Princess, spitting out your bones to use as toothpicks.” He chuckled, taking yet another dangerous step forward, cornering his ridiculously rebellious prey. “But I’m sure playing with dolls have earned you some skills too.”

A mocking grin shaping his face as he cocked his head to the side, looking at her slyly, giving no indication that he was about to pounce and therefor catching her completely off guard when grabbing her wrist tightly, making bones pop as she immediately dropped the miserable excuse for a weapon, his dexterity flashed as he caught the falling fork without even looking, face amused as he watched the little bird try and shake free from his death-grip. 

“How ‘bout you quit stalling? And strip.” He demanded, voice roguish as he pulled her wrists forward, having her dainty poor footing slipping and tripping into his chest again like before. “’Cause I’m feeling less and less inclined to spare your pretty dress and more and more tempted to tear it off.” 

She winced slightly at how his rough hand twisted her arm, even though she was the once causing the pain with trying to force herself free.

Stopping at his words, she looked at him, eyes wide, pleading and anxious at the hands of his brutish strength and cruel command, feeling the hot sting of tears build up in her eyes, nose twitching upon the bite as she whimpered under his stoic features, feeling powerless and so very hopelessly small pinned beneath his superior scarlet-eyes.

Sniffling, she bowed her head, bleating in defeat.

“I need help...” She admitted with a sweet mumble.

“What?” He grumbled, looking down at how bashful she now seemed, not at all like the woman in need of conquering he’d first laid eyes on in the courtroom.

“It unties in the back…” She explained. “I… I cant do it on my own…”

She didn't even dare look up at him now. 

“I need your help...”

It was quite cruel if he thought about it. Putting a little lady in a dress she can’t take off without her man’s assistance, making her completely helpless on her own where she’ll most likely need help putting it on in the morning as well unless she’s to be kept naked and vulnerable in the room, her only purpose to please her husband.

He wouldn't lie, it had a certain attractive appeal to it, but he wouldn't consider himself that cruel to let his mate rot away in a tower for the rest of her days. He had plans for the inexperienced thing after all, wondering what adorable lost expression she’d give him when placed atop a dragon’s back.

His grin resurfaced, taken by surprise by how his heart seemed to warm with pride, the knots in his chest unwinding at the feel of how soft the skin beneath his scratchy fingertips felt, with the knowledge that it all belonged to him. 

“Turn around.”

He spun her around with a hand to her waist, fingering the lace and sequins, lusting to feel how soft and warm her bare skin would be against him and his battle-scars, balls tingling at the thought, a deep rumble rising in his chest like a growl from a hound as she felt her knees grow weaker, heart speeding and breath disturbingly struggling to keep from hitching in her throat as she felt the fabric around her waist loosen.

He didn’t think he’d feel this way. When he’d fantasized about it, a random slave girl glucking on his cock eager to please him, he’d thrown his head back and pictured the spoiled princess on her knees, put in her place, eyes bleary and defiant, staring up at him with such hatred as he held her freedom in a chokehold, stripping away her power one pathetic rhinestone at a time until she was nothing more than his cock-slave, but looking at her now… at how small she was, hearing her sniffle as each layer of clothing hit the floor, her stoic mask falling until she was left but a trembling little child at the mercy of his hands, he was feeling excited with an entirely different picture in his mind.

He’d seen her as this spoiled brat before, pretty girl who needed to be told a lesson or two about the real world, how unsafe and helpless and insignificant she actually was in the grand scheme of things, how breakable that silly tiara atop her head was.

He hadn’t really noticed how cute she was. How strangely untouched, how kept and innocent the little thing was, like a precious sheep raised for slaughter, wool as pure-white as pearls, now only to be snatched by the big bad hungry wolf.

She was so soft now, without the shrill sharp blinding protection of gemstones covering her like armor. She was in fact nothing like a princess at all, much less a queen. She was just a hopeless little girl who’d lived her entire life shelter under her father’s protection.

Now to be under his.

And there she was, naked and gorgeous like a nymph in the forest, though with not a smidgen of viciousness in her.

Who would've known softness felt that good?

He could drown himself in it as he breathed in her sweet scent by nudging his nose in behind her ear, arms having caged her against his chest, hand covering her stomach, the other placed on her neck, guiding her head back to rest against his shoulder as he started grinding into her precious goose-bumped ass from behind, and beside thinking about how warm and hard his chest was like pressed against her back, there wasn't much that could distract her from the way his pants was doing little to suppress the large bulge present and pressing into her, her stomach reeling and flipping with all sorts of brewing mixing contradicting concerns and passions.

She felt like she was burning once his lips kissed her neck, a flush running down her beck, or perhaps it was just the warmth of his breath tickling her. Everything was warm. Not just his breath, but his chest, his hands, his lips, the tongue licking up her throat, and her hands, her cheeks, her stomach, that something between her thighs.

She yelped once he maneuvered, quick and elegant, picking her up into a bridal-carry, one arm supporting her back, the other hooked beneath her knees as he carried her over to the bed, laying her down gently, though swarming her with warmth so hot she already felt the sweat start to seep from her pores, coating her skin like a thin sheen, glowing bashfully beneath him and the way he placed skillfully teasing bites and kisses down the valley of her breasts, hand large and strong using dexterous fingers to tweak her nipples into sprouting nubs screaming from the foreign stimulation, the other hand ghosting spidering touches between her thighs as he positioned himself between them, spreading her knees to either side of his hips, touching what pretty previously untouched precious sensitivity found at his mercy.

“My father told me the only place I'd ever find god is between a Queen’s legs.” He whispered softly, though his tone still gruff with a slight suppressed growl flavouring the words.

“That’s blasphemy, my King.”

She was tense beneath him, waiting for something she had no former knowledge of what was, having been kept completely in the dark as though not to taint her innocent mind, though having clung to rumors her chambermaid would tell her of how a man’s love can hurt.

“You fear the gods’ wrath more than you fear mine?” He coaxed, placing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, hot puffs of air hitting her in places that had her feeling kitten-soft and vulnerable, though strangely wishful and hopeful and excited.

“Naturally, my King.” She answered, looking up at him and how his hair looked soft in the moonlight shining in through her window, his mane falling forward, shadowing his eyes, though not able to hide the swirling predatory heat swimming about inside them, a look that had something equally warm and sticky pool in her gut.

A finger, a thick finger, swiped up her slit, flicking off at her clit, forcing her to jolt unexpectedly, gasping as her hands instinctively shot down to push at him, though doing little to make him move as his other arm had coiled like a cobra around her thigh, keeping her there as he continued playing with the soft warm flesh, utterly unbothered by the slight jolt of surprise. 

She knew she was in no right to deny him anything, backing down as soon as she could remind herself of her duties between softly whimpering at the strange sensation transpiring between her thighs beneath his hand.

“It’s Katsuki.” He said suddenly, looking at her. "My name." He explained. “You’re not gonna say it right, so better start practicing now.”

She wasn't sure if it was a title or an honorific, given it was unheard of for anyone to call on a King with anything but their respected epithet, where she’d never heard any name quite like it either, unsure of what letters would even go into such a word. 

“My... uhm...”

She was unsure whether she wanted to wind her thighs shut or spread them out further with how he was touching her. 

“Katsuking.” 

He chuckled at that.

“I like that better.” He rasped, bowing down to level with the sweet gem at his mouth, planning to not only taste but drink what ambrosia he’d bargained for through weeks of patient negotiations, feeling the beast within him start to grow restless with the naked perfection laid submissively in peaceful offering, spread without effort and just waiting for him to take a bite.

But before he dived, she let her voice carry another adorable little word of worry. “Will it hurt?” Voice strictly vulnerable.

Her question had him stopping, stark-red eyes snapping back up to look at her, slight crinkle between his brows.

“So, it’s true then.” He stated, though in slight disbelief of his own conclusion. “You don't fuck before marriage?” 

And though his words were crude, his voice was not, but a strange type of cautious before he offered a small smile, placing a small chaste kiss to her belly, drifting back to his previous conquest. 

“Little virgin...” He teased in sweet endearing mockery.

Placing another kiss, though this time lower, he had her breath shuddering. 

“I’m gonna show you the true meaning of God tonight.”

TIP-JAR

[thegreatstoryteller]

Modeled Life

“Alright, you can do this Alex. Just focus, you belong here right? Of course you do! That’s the only thing people even remember about you! No more awkward Alex or nervous stuttering Alex. No! You are Alex the model! The actor! The-“

“Um… Alex. We’re ready to shoot are you ok?” the photographer said apprehensively.

“Y-yeah! I’ll be right there!” And with that Alex removed his shirt.

A week ago no one would even know who Alex was. A middle child in a family of 10, an average sized man in an above average part of town, and a recluse of a person amidst a pool of socialites. All these mundane descriptors and more could be used to describe Alex, to anyone who would even care to know. He was just an ordinary man in his early 30s, still trying to find his place in the world.

So it was to no surprise, when the dreary guy working multiple jobs happened upon an oddity throughout his daily life. During the evenings he worked as a waiter serving fancy finger foods to beautiful men and women at lavish parties. Half the time he wasn’t even aware of the event of the evening. They all had the same thing in common. Just people with two much money surrounding themselves with people who looked amazing.

As he wandered around the fancy halls of this building, he noticed a section roped off. One of the best things about being so unremarkable like Alex, was that people didn’t notice him, even if he was off sneaking into a place he shouldn’t. He quickly found the area to be filled with paintings, sculptures, ancient pottery, and antiques. One at the center of the room caught his eye though. An egg shaped sculpture that looked entirely carved of marble. Under its pedestal were a few words in latin “votum ovum”. Not really caring for the lengthy historical description beneath the egg, Alex merely sighed, realizing all boring stuff in here was considered more valuable than him.

“I wish I could life like those people inside. No… even better I wish I lived a life people like that only dream of.” Alex said absentmindedly admiring the expensive works of art. At that very second, his phone buzzed with a message that told him to get back to work. It was so sudden that the very vibrations caused Alex to jump and stumble right into the egg. It was falling to the ground fast. He dove for it, as by mere inches it slipped through his fingers. When it smashed to the floor Alex knew his life working at this place was probably over. He had no idea how right he was.

The egg fell to the ground and smashed to pieces in a blast of bright light. Alex squinted. Barely a second had passed, but Alex felt his body alight with some unknown heat. As if fire had burned through every vein of his body, stretching him out a little taller. Adding some mass to his chest, arms, and ass. His hair tingled as it styled itself into an effortless yet fashionable cut. Even his clothing morphed from simple waiter’s outfit to a full on suit that framed his new body well. Abs now peaking through his unbuttoned shirt and a disheveled tie loosely hanging from his neck.

When Alex’s eyes finally adjusted and he got to his feet, he was shocked to find no evidence of the shattered statue. He was even more shocked with the sudden change to apparel and muscles!

“What the hell is going on?” Alex said in a deep sonorous voice.

A cute female giggle could be heard behind one of the art installments as he said this. “You always say that after you enjoy yourself big guy?” Standing up in a gorgeous black dress was the owner of the building and hostess of the party. 

“Um... Sorry mam. I don’t-” 

“You don’t leave a girl waiting right? Well then get back here tiger, we’re just getting started.” 

Before he knew it Alex was tugged by the tie into one of the most intense experiences of his life. And this was just the beginning. He soon found his entire world had changed. He wasn’t just an average waiter at this party. He was an honored guest. Models, actors, and local celebrities all praised him for his attendance and joked about his latest escapades. Alex’s awkward laugh now came out as a sexy chuckle, that drove people wild. 

His phone was now abuzz with social media updates as people were liking hundreds of his shirtless pictures. Each more thirst catching than the next. Alex certainly recognized his face, though it looked like it was put through a handsome filter. But the body was nearly entirely new!

It took a few days for Alex to realize his friends and family had always remembered him as the successful one in their lives. The young adult who moved to the city of socialites and now runs the place. He had modeling gigs nearly everyday, while every night he was invited to new lavish parties.

Back in the present Alex was still getting used to his modeling gigs. He had to spend several minutes hyping himself up just to get his shirt off. However, it wasn’t like anyone minded. To the photographers and other staff, they simply thought this popular stud was in reality really modest. This humility only served his new salacious reputation, as did the many tame nights of partying where he only drank water and didn’t bed the first person he saw.

Whoever he was or is, it’s certain that no one will be forgetting the name Alex Crockford anytime soon. 

[helliontherapscallion]

Sweet Betrayal

Part 2     Part 3     Part 4

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, neglect, successful suicide attempt, death, insanity

(A/N): I had a little too much fun writing this

“I’ll help you.”

Tommy cheered and clapped a hand on your shoulder. Wilbur gave you a slightly manic smile, his plan is going to work out perfectly with you working with them. Techno merely grunted in acknowledgement. Something about your tone threw him for a loop, but he just summed it up to the voices and his growing trust issues. The voices were screaming at him not to trust you, that you were a traitor, that you’d betray them. But there’s no way his youngest sibling would ever betray them; they couldn’t hurt a fly. They were basically defenseless. 

Tubbo looked slightly hesitant to accept you as his spying partner, but he figured that you joining him would take most of the stress off from his shoulders. You were close to Schlatt, he basically treated you as if you were his own. He was slightly jealous at how close to his father you were when he, Schlatt’s biological son, was often standing in the same room as them. He knew that Schlatt was a shitty father and could never shape up to being as good of a father figure than Philza was to him, but he just couldn’t help but feel hurt at the fact that his own father, who abandoned him at the side of the road as a kid, so readily took on another kid that wasn’t himself. Despite his resentment towards you, he accepted having you as a partner. Maybe once he got to know you better you weren’t so bad. 

On the outside, you were giving your ‘brothers’ a sweet smile. Almost sickeningly sweet as you plastered it on your face to hide the resentment and hatred brewing inside of you threatening to escape and fill this ravine with it’s raging waves. They were never your brothers, always choosing to exclude you from everything they were doing. As a kid, you had nobody to rely on. Tommy had Tubbo and Wilbur had Techno and Philza. You were completely, utterly alone as a kid. 

You were always deprived of social interaction, always being told to ‘suck it up���, ‘quit whining’, and ‘just accept it’. You watched from the sidelines as your brothers received all the love and support from each other and Philza, and you were sick of being left out. Their proposal has made you finally reach your breaking point. You came to the realization that you were only going to get their support only when you were of use to them. 

Even as adults and as teenagers, they’re always acting like children. Whining over losing power, getting exiled, how ‘tyrannical’ every single government was, like get a grip. You brought this upon yourself. Manberg would be much better off without you two. Just accept leadership, it’s there to bring natural structure to society. This isn’t high school, stop overreacting. Oh, how you longed to scream in their faces, drop the happy, sweet, and defenseless facade you always wore. You were broken down by them, and you were going to be their downfall. You would make sure of it. At least, that’s what Schlatt promised you. 

You met Schlatt one day when you were alone in the forest far from the house you called home. It was dark out and you were hiding from the mobs that threatened to take one of your lives. He found you by following your whimpers, taking you back to his house and giving you shelter for a few days. He treated you like you were a person, an actual human being, and that made you realize that you weren’t alone in the world afterall. Philza and your brothers didn’t even notice that you were gone until after a week of staying with Schlatt. You remembered how Philza stormed into Schlatt’s house, grabbed you by the ear, apologized to Schlatt, and drug you home lecturing you the entire time. You were grounded for a month after that and banned from talking to Schlatt.

However, you still talked to Schlatt in secret. He eventually treated you like you were his own, showering you with the love and support that you were deprived of. You supposed you craved constant reassurance and kindness, and you chopped it up to how you were raised. You had trauma and Schlatt was there to fix that. He gave you constant support, something your ‘family’ has never done. Well, they did once when you finally broke and fell into a deep depression, never leaving your room. They didn’t notice that, but what they did notice was the death message that flashed across their comm tablets: “(Y/n) suffocated.”

When they ran to your room, they caught the last of the golden dust that used to be your body drifting into the atmosphere. In the center of your room hanging from an exposed pipe in the ceiling was a noose fashioned from an old rope they had noticed had gone missing a few weeks ago. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that you hung yourself. 

For a solid month after that, they treated you like they treated each other and you felt like you were soaring the entire time. Philza even told you that he loved you and that he was proud of you when you ate your first meal in a week!  All of the attention and support faded when they saw you smile more and laugh louder. You faded again into obscurity and all that came out of that successful suicide attempt was not your family’s unconditional love like you had hoped, but an ugly scar that wrapped around the entirety of your neck.  

You were going to fuck up their plans. They deserved it for ostracizing you all those years. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your and Schlatt’s plan was unfolding swimmingly. Your idiotic brothers had no clue of your betrayal and that always made you want to laugh hysterically, but you held it in until you got back to the White House. You would laugh in Schlatt’s office with him. The cabinet often heard loud, boisterous laughter booming from behind the closed office doors, but they’ve long since learned not to question it. 

They grew wary of you two, it seemed that your sanities were turning into slippery slopes. The Emperor and the Secretary of Defense could not be fully trusted to make any decisions anymore. Even Quackity, who loved his adopted kid to death, agreed that they couldn’t be trusted. You and Schlatt had changed so much from when he first started dating Schlatt. It hurt him to see his husband and his child slip into insanity.

While you were planning the festival with Schlatt and Tubbo, it was extremely hard for you to keep a straight face. Whenever Schlatt wasn’t looking, Tubbo would smirk and glance at you from the corner of his eyes. It was in those moments specifically that you would struggle the most with containing your laughter. Originally, Schlatt was only going to exile Tubbo for his treachery, but after the fiasco with the lame excuse of ‘farming totems of undying’, you convinced him to turn it into an execution. You organized every single part of Tubbo’s execution, it was perfect in your opinion. At the same time, you were giving Schlatt information of your brother’s whereabouts during the festival. You were going to put on a show for them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the stage, you were shifting and fidgeting relentlessly from your position between your adopted dads. From an outside perspective, one would assume that you’re nervous to be on stage in the middle of the spotlight. Everybody outside of the cabinet and your fathers still saw you as the innocent kid that wouldn’t hurt a fly. How wrong they were. Tubbo’s speech was the hardest to sit through, Quackity had to have a tight grip on your hand to prevent you from rushing the teenager and caging him too early. 

After Schlatt gave you the signal, you, him, and Quackity quickly trapped him in a cage made of yellow concrete. You could hear the shocked gasps of the audience and saw Wilbur holding Tommy down from revealing their hiding spot. Schlatt gently nudged you up to the microphone with a kind smile. 

You walked confidently up to the podium and gave the audience the widest closed-eyed grin they’d ever seen on you. “Hello citizens of Manberg, other guests,” you opened your eyes and shot a smug smirk over to your older brothers on the roof. You took great pleasure in the look of hurt, anger, and betrayal in their eyes. 

“What you are going to witness today is my pride and joy. As it turns out, our dearest Tubbo here,” you turned around to give a grandiose gesture at the cage behind you, “is a filthy little traitor.” The last word ripped itself from your mouth like a rattlesnake spitting venom at its victims. 

Tubbo banged on the walls in a rage, “you were a spy too! YOU WERE A SPY FOR POGTOPIA TOO!” 

“On the contrary, dearest Tubbo. I was a double agent working for Schlatt, my father. I was never loyal to Pogtopia. Why would I be when you all used me?” You gave him a gentle smile. The insane and malicious glint in your eyes contrasted the kindness of your features. You turned back to the podium with that same smile. The combination of your words and your expression sent cold chills down the spines of the Manbergians. They now saw you as who you really were. 

“Now, since I was so rudely interrupted,” you shot a glare at the shocked boy behind you, “hm, where was I?” You rubbed your chin in false confusion before you perked up, “oh right! What you are going to witness today is the public execution of our dear friend Tubbo.” You broke into a series of manic giggling, pounding your fist against the wood of the podium. The gasps of the audience sounded like music to your ears.

“TECHNOBLADE, GET THE HELL UP HERE BROTHER! YOU HAVE THE HONORS.”

You shouted through your laughter. Technoblade climbed up the stairs and stood facing you with a harsh glare. You grinned at him as he spoke to you with his usual monotone voice. This time, there was an undeniable angry undertone you could clearly detect, “what do you want me to do?”

“You still have that rocket launcher, right?”

He pulled it out of his satchel. You squealed happily and jumped up and down clapping your hands excitedly, “good! I’ve always liked fireworks. Now be a dear and make Tubbo go out with a bang!”

He walked over to face Tubbo’s cage and pointed the crossbow at him. You could see his finger trembling over the trigger and a nervous sweat gathering at his brow. After a while of seeing no firework action, you grew impatient and started to furiously shout at him.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, BLOOD GOD? WHAT, ARE YOU TOO MUCH OF A PUSSY TO DO IT NOW? KILL HIM! BLAST HIM TO SMITHEREENS! FUCKING DO IT.”

With every word that left your mouth, you stepped closer to him until you were screaming into his ear. You felt immense pleasure when you saw him start to shake. When you heard the shooting of fireworks and the agonized screams of Tubbo and saw the colorful blasts, you felt like you were on cloud nine. It was beautiful. 

Your insane laughter was heard over the chaos that followed. Schlatt and Quackity, seeing Techno’s growing anger after killing Tubbo, moved to push you behind them. Quackity wrapped his wings around you in a tight hug before fireworks were shot at your family. After you pushed Quackity away from you, you saw your father’s corpse lying on the stage floor. It was clear that he had just lost a life. 

Quackity collapsed to the stage with a groan before he briefly passed out. You checked if he was still breathing before you looked at Technoblade with anger written clear on your features. You gave a furious shout before you charged at him, determined to kill the unkillable. 

You dodged the fireworks that he shot at you before you finally reached him. He dodged your flailing arms and the attempts to push him off from the stage with ease. “I SHOULD’VE KNOWN NOT TO TRUST YOU!” 

His shout was dismissed by you, not registering in your clouded mind at all. He grabbed your arms and threw you to the edge of the stage. Before you could get up, he stomped a foot down on your chest and pointed the rocket launcher at your face. You were not phased by this, grinning and laughing with insanity-filled glee.  “KILL ME TECHNO! DO IT, GO ON! FUCKING DO IT. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!”

He stared at you with the most anger you’ve ever seen from him before he pushed you off the stage with a simple kick of his foot. As you were plummeting to your death, you saw Technoblade point the rocket launcher at you before you saw the colorful rockets shooting at you. Your laughter ending abruptly with the explosion of fireworks and the thump of your bloodied corpse against the pavement was something the citizens of Manberg would never forget. 

Your brothers stared at your corpse as it disappeared with shock and anger. They never suspected you of all people to be a traitor, they thought you were the sweet, naive kid they knew growing up. They thought your allegiance to them would be unbreaking and you’d follow them blindly. Obviously, they were wrong. There was no saving you. You were too far gone. 

When you woke up with Schlatt and Quackity holding your hands at your bedside, all of the memories flooded back to you. They held you as you cried in frustration, wiping at your tears with gentle, reassuring smiles and loving words. Rage filled you as you remembered how they got away with their lives. You had one life left, and you were going to dedicate it to their downfall. Even if you died in the process. They should fear the day you return. There was no saving them from your wrath. 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I'm sorry but i'm addicted to our boy Spamton- I have a little unique request here. So this takes place where Spamton just moves in the Queen's mansion, he meets the reader and immediately falls for their kind words and gestures. Weeks pass, and he goes to see them, but catches them talking and hanging out with Swatch.. He gets really jealous to the point of changing his style to match Swatch's

"Oh [y/n]! Have You Met Our Newest Guest?"

"Uh, I don't believe-"

"He's An Interesting Addison Who Made A Big Name For Himself! Ohohoho!" Queen laughed joyously, pausing to sip her glass of battery acid. "I Wonder How He Got So Rich...No Matter. As My Peon, I Order You Greet Him......Whenever It's Convenient For You."

"Sure thing. I'll go now." With a respectful nod, you set off to the mansion's guest chambers to meet this newcomer. You've lived here for a long time--and somewhat reluctantly since Queen decided to make you one of her peons one day. But life was actually pretty good.

It wasn't like you had anything better to do, so if she needed someone to help her with plans that..didn't seem all-that urgent, you'll offer your assistance. She let you stay in the mansion for free and never made you do anything if you weren't feeling up to it.

For a tyrannical ruler she was rather kind.

Yet you didn't wanna take advantage of her hospitality, so you'd just listen to whatever she says. And if she wants you to meet this celebrity as part of her endless lists of requests, then you'll happily oblige. But you were eager too since you've seen his face on TV a lot. It felt like an honor.

After wandering the corridors of deactivated puzzles, Mona Lisa-esque portraits, and meticulously-placed pottery, you finally arrived at the guest rooms. You hummed a small tune as you passed by each one, stopping when you noticed one door was open.

Peeking inside, you saw the Addison still setting up things. A phone was tucked between his shoulder and ear as he moved a box whilst rambling to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Yea! I promise I won't let you down, okay? Soon I'll be bigger than ever before! I know I'm already a big shot but....haha, yeah, I shouldn't get carried away. Okay. Right..we'll discuss more of this tomorrow. Thanks!"

After hanging up the phone and returning it to the receiver, he finally noticed you and smiled. "Hey, hey! Haven't seen your face around here yet. But surely you know mine, right?"

"Yeah." You smiled, not wanting to shy away from talking with him. "Spamton, right?"

"Everybody's favorite number-one rated salesman!!" He laughed. "It's good you know me..'cuz soon ALL of Cyber World will know my name! It's a pleasure to meet you...?"

"[Y/n]. I'm one of Queen's peons." You shook his hand politely. The energy that radiated from him was so bright. Just as much as his pearly smile was.

Stepping inside, you glanced around at the luxurious furniture. He definitely got the higher-class rooms, with the addition of a large window that showed the neon green meridians that stretched across the night sky. It was certainly a beautiful view to fall asleep to. "Need help unpacking?"

"Oh--sure!!" At first Spamton seemed surprised by your offer, but he nodded. "If you want, be my guest. And while we unpack, I gotta ask you..how's it being Queen's peon?"

............

Weeks passed, and you've gotten to know Spamton more and more. You realized he was actually a sweet down-to-earth guy all around. Although he was on the phone a lot, he'd make time to hang out with you, so you two became fast friends.

He was truly living the best life. Posters of his car advertisements were littered all over the city, and the Swatchlings attended to his every need. Though one thing was hard to admit, even when it seemed like he had it all:

You were his only friend now that everyone else is intimidated by his status--as they would shy away from conversing with him--and the Addisons, well, abandoned him out of jealousy.

Obviously that made him worry about driving you away, especially when he's on the phone nonstop. But...the fact you've been so kind to him in every word and gesture, treating him like a regular person and not some untouchable celebrity, was quite endearing. Most admired him for his products, not his personality.

Your kindness made him fall for you hard and fast, ever since day one. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea; to let it get in the way of his business.

But what the hell? He was a big shot! He can afford to go a bit bigger and take more risks. Living in this mansion with someone who loved him would be the perfect dream.

There was a much bigger dream that his valued caller insisted he focused on, but that can come later.

So this morning, Spamton set out to find you to address these feelings once and for all. Yet he was rather nervous. Addisons were most confident in selling products, not so much...everything else. But he didn't wanna back down. He kept smiling no matter what.

As he checked inside the color café that he usually frequented, he saw you eating at the table. He noticed you weren't alone but with Swatch, talking and...

Laughing with them?

And just like that, his smile faded much like his hope.

Of course, the head butler had their ways to swoon people. He tried not to think of it as anything more than just their personality. It's just their way to entice returning customers.

That's all...right?

Spamton ducked behind one of the displays, listening in on your conversation to determine if he should proceed or not.

"By the way, we've known each other for a while and..I've always wanted to ask you something.."

"Yes? What is your inquiry?"

He held his breath. This is exactly what he feared. Knowing that you've been here longer, it's obvious you'd be closer to that damn bird-

"Your outfit."

Then he exhaled shakily, relieved. 'What are you getting so worked up for, idiot?' He thought in the back of his mind, but he continued eavesdropping.

"Did the Queen make it or give it to you? It's very stylish and really makes you stand out from the other Swatchlings."

"Ah, in fact I decided this look for myself." Swatch chuckled softly, raising a wing to adjust their glasses. "The tailor did marvelous work with my vision: black suit, tinted glasses. Very fashionable, is it not?"

"It is. I like it a lot."

"Why thank you. I see why our Lady Grace admires you. Just for that compliment, I'll give you a discount on any of our products in the gift shop."

"Should be every day if you ask me." You joked, earning another chuckle from them.

Seeing all of this and the way you two spoke like close friends was a jab in Spamton's heart-shaped object. 'So [y/n] likes people who stand out? Well I can stand out, too..' He thought bitterly as he stormed out of the shop without either of you knowing he was there.

Why should he settle with being a blank-slate Addison like the rest of them? He didn't consider himself one anymore.

Today, he told his valued caller, he was gonna be a whole new person.

It would help him get closer to both of his dreams, but there was only one on his mind now.

............

Later that night as you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You huffed in annoyance, assuming Queen needed you for something.

She had a knack for disturbing you at ungodly hours. But knowing better than to ignore her, you went to answer the door anyways-

To some strange black-haired guy in a black suit and white turtleneck sweater.

"Hi, um...can I help you?"

"[Y/n]? It's me."

"....wait....Spamton?"

"Yeah!" The salesman laughed, throwing his arms out and making a pose. "Whatdya think of me now?"

Perplexed, you looked him up and down. He ditched the lime-green pants, instead wearing white trousers. And his hair was slicked back. But what was most peculiar about him were his glasses, tinted with pink and yellow lenses.

Had you not known any better, you would've thought Swatch suddenly shrunk and became robotized.

"Cool but..you kinda look like Swatch a little bit. Was that on purpose?" You mused.

"...haha....yeah uh..funny story. Um.." He dropped the act, losing his trademark grin as he wondered how to explain himself and this sudden transformation. You could tell he wanted to talk inside the room, so you let him in and shut the door.

"I don't recall Queen mentioning any costume contest-"

"It's not a costume." He muttered, uncomfortably rubbing his hands together as he looked at you with sadness. "This is who I am now. The new me."

"..huh? You serious?" When he nodded, you frowned slightly. "I'm confused. You don't look like an Addison anymore-"

"That's the point...! I...I don't wanna be associated with them anymore. I decided to stand out, y'know? If you're gonna be a big shot, ya gotta stand out from the crowd!" He forced a laugh that sounded rather glitchy.

You didn't buy it. It wasn't like him to do this out of the blue.

"Spamton, why imitate Swatch of all people? And why out of the blue like this? I mean..I don't mind if you like their style. But I didn't even recognize you until you spoke."

Try as he might, he couldn't make any better excuses. So seeing that he was cornered made him finally admit his jealousy, overhearing your conversation with Swatch while he was browsing--when he really wasn't, but he didn't wanna come off as creepy.

His voice glitched further due to stress, accidentally blurting out some kind of...flirtatious term as he explained how much you meant to him since day one.

You weren't sure if he meant to say "hot single" on purpose. Though you were flattered that such a famous guy like him...actually had a crush on you, an ordinary Darkner who just fetched the Queen's stick wherever she threw it.

You found it hard to believe he thought of you that way..so you kept your own feelings buried. So to see that it's mutual was a relief, and it made you smile.

Spamton, on the other hand, was stressing the hell out. So much so he didn't even see your smile. He just saw himself being stupid the more he rambled on.

It was such a stupid, stupid reason to get insecure--to the point of changing his entire appearance without warning. All because you were friends with a butler who was doing their job???

How selfish can he get when he already had everything he wanted and more?

When he did acknowledge your small smile, he thought you were holding yourself back from laughing. But you had every right to laugh and call him a joke for thinking this will get your attention.

As he finished talking, he could see your smile fade and huffed. He waited for you to tell him how stupid he looks and to go back to being the plain old Addison you met.

Instead of ridiculing him you...hugged him?

At this point you were sitting on the bed together. Of course yours wasn't as massive as his was, but it was big enough for you two to share.

"Spammy, I'm flattered you like me in that way but...you didn't have to do all of this to get my attention. I promise there's nothing going on between Swatch and I. We're just friends. They're not replacing you or anything."

"I know, it's just.." Taking off the glasses, he set them aside before hugging you tightly, head buried in your chest. "I don't wanna lose the only person in this damn place who makes me feel like myself. Who loves me for me, not my success. And...I-I felt like I had to change something about myself to make sure of that."

"Well..you don't need to change anymore. I love you no matter what you look like."

He blinked, his face turning as red as his cheeks.

You could sense his embarrassment from the way he tensed up in your arms and chuckled, patting his hair softly. "Just..don't feel pressured to change for me..or anybody for that matter, okay? Or at least let me know if you're gonna change things up again."

"You don't think..I look stupid or creepy like this?"

"No. Honestly you look pretty handsome. Black hair suits you well."

Hearing those words made him breathe a small sigh of relief. He nodded and hugged you tighter.

His new looks were staying for good.

[cupofteaguk]

on the road (to you)

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

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

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

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

word count: 27k 

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

And then you receive the invitation in the mailbox. 

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

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

The post in your hand reads: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then go!” 

“But I don’t have a plus one!” 

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink. “What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.” 

“You know how expensive flights can be.” 

“Of course.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!” 

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

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

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

“There’s more,” You groan out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Karly frowns. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pout. “That seems a little dramatic.” 

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

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

So you sigh. 

“I guess I should text Jungkook, huh.” 

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, thanks, that’s really nice—!” 

“Someone has to give you an embarrassing goodbye.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gape at her. “Karly!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean!” You snap back. 

“So, Y/N, ready to go?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise both your eyebrows. “Celia?” 

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

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

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

You look up at him, wide eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook grins back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook grins. “I’m down for that.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins. “You are correct.” 

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

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

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

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

You nod immediately. “Great. Perfect.” 

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

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

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

You settle deeper into your seat. 

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

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

“Sure, sure, of course.” 

There’s a pause. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And how do you feel now?” 

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

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

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

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

. 

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

You are in the motel. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, ready to get going?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that about?” Jungkook asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook nods. “Thanks.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight.” 

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

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

You snort. “It’s only been a minute.” 

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

“What is it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” 

“I know.” 

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

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

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

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

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

It’s much better than the fantasy. 

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile back. “Hi.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your lips part. “Jungkook!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh shit, that wasn’t my intention!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More than that, it’s Jennie. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The thought brings the tears back to your eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, it’s fine.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses. “What do you mean?” 

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

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

You’re still trying to catch your breath. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook (10:20AM): it’s actually Y/N? We all went to college together… 

Jennie (10:20AM): OH!!!! wait isn’t she the one Irene was working with a lot for senior projects? 

Jennie (10:20AM): OH HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO

Jennie (10:21AM): OKAY JUNGKOOK I SEE U 

Jennie (10:21AM): she’s THE Y/N right???? the one u were in love with for our entire college career?? 

Jungkook (10:22AM): …… maybe? 

Jennie (10:22AM): WOWOWOWOW good for u Jungkook !!! glad to see u finally having the balls to ask her out !! 

Jungkook (10:22AM): OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH 

Jungkook (10:23AM): I actually felt BAD for leaving you by yourself BUT NOT ANYMORE 

Jennie (10:23AM): LMAO Jungkook I’m friends with Irene’s entire bridesmaid row i’ll be fine 

Jennie (10:23AM): just go get ur dick wet!!!!!! 

Jungkook (10:23AM): istg i will leave you on read 

Jungkook (10:23AM): also that is NOT the point!!!!!! Just wanna love my new girl :( 

Jennie (10:24AM): You’re gross 

Jennie (10:24AM): but sounds good see you tonight! 

You look up from Jungkook’s phone to see him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction, pleading for you to forgive him. 

The only thought that can be translated into a coherent sentence comes out: “You were in love with me during college?” 

Jungkook exhales in a laugh, his arms finding your waist once again. “I think ‘in love with’ was a bit of a stretch back then. I think you could agree that we didn’t know each other well enough before for me to say that.” 

You’re still looking at him. “Back then…?” You echo. 

He nods. “Back then.” He brings you closer, one hand moving up to gently brush at the skin of your cheek. “But it’s different now. Now, I can say with absolute certainty that I’m in love with you.” 

Your lips part. “You’re in love with me?” The tears spring back into your eyes, but for a different reason entirely. The emotional rollercoaster you have just been on is unbelievable. 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of your tears. “Oh shit, I’m sorry! Is that too fast? I’m sorry, I should have given you a warning or something. Or more time at least. Oh no, please don’t cry…” 

You brush him off with a watery laugh, waving his concern away. “It’s okay Jungkook. This is fine, really.” You give him a smile. “I love you too. I really thought you were pulling my leg or something.” 

Jungkook gives you his own small smile. “I’m sorry. I should have brought this up sooner about us being each other’s plus ones. Just because I assume something doesn’t mean it’s an established thing.” He brings you closer, his smile turning into a grin. “You love me too, huh?” 

You giggle. You’re too strung out to come up with something witty or clever. “Yeah…” 

Jungkook is still smiling, his gaze switching between your lips and your eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” 

You nod. “About time.” 

He kisses you again, softly and sweetly, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips but it’s gentle caresses that make your heart feel like it’s crawling up your throat. 

“OH MY GOD GET A ROOM!” A voice calls from the other side of the parking lot, forcing you and Jungkook to pull away. The pair of you look at each other and you start to laugh. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead, sweeping down to your ear. “How about we check into our room and get ready?” 

You giggle, nodding over at him. “That sounds good.” 

So Jungkook leads the way, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you gather your suitcases from the car and enter the lobby. You check in easily, as Jungkook is provided a map with directions on how to reach the room. 

The pair of you don’t pull away once until Jungkook is sliding the key card into the door and pushing it open to reveal the bedroom you’ll be sharing for the night. 

Both you and Jungkook park your suitcases near the foot of the bed, as per usual. 

“Do you want to use the bathroom?” Jungkook offers. 

You nod, smiling softly. “Okay.” 

You gather the dress you’ve brought in your arms, about to enter the bathroom, before Jungkook’s voice stops you. “Hey,” He calls, approaching you and wrapping you in his arms again. He’s much more handsey this time, like he needs to make sure you’re not going to run away again, like you’re going to be okay. “You feel better now?” His thumb brushes your lips. “Your eyes are still a little red.” 

You nod. “The makeup will probably help that,” You reassure in a soft voice. 

Jungkook mirrors your movements. “Still, how about I get some ice for you so you can put something cold underneath your eyes… to stop the puffing.” 

He looks genuinely concerned and worried for your wellbeing that you can’t help but smile. Since he is insisting, you decide to just let him be. “Okay, Jungkook.” 

He smiles. “Okay! You start getting ready and I’ll get the ice, okay?” A quick kiss on your cheek before he’s bounding out of the door with the provided ice buckets. 

Your eyes linger on the door for a few minutes before you’re turning back to your suitcase. The dress you have picked is a pink flowing floor-length number—something Karly helped you pick out before leaving. It’s soft enough that it doesn’t leave crease marks along the fabric, which had made this outfit perfect for the trip. You take the dress and your bag of makeup before entering the bathroom. You’re just slipping on the dress when you hear the hotel room door open and close. 

“Okay, I got the ice!” Jungkook announces through the bathroom door. “Did you want to work on your eyes right now?” 

“Sure,” You call back. “Do you mind zipping me up first?” 

“Of course,” Jungkook returns, sounding distracting as you open the door to the bathroom. You peek your head through, noticing Jungkook opening his suitcase on the floor and sorting through it—probably for his own suit. 

He must hear the door open, because he looks up towards you. Immediately, his eyes widen as he straightens up into a standing position. “O-Oh wow…” He’s looking you over up and down, up and down, as if he needs to commit this to memory. “Y-You look great. Beautiful.” 

“Really?” You stammer back. “Thank you.” 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on you as he approaches you. “You needed me to zip you up?” 

“O-Oh right, yeah.” Hastily, you turn around, brushing the hair from your back to expose your undone zipper, and your bare back. 

You think that he purposely grazes the tips of his fingers against your skin in his process of bringing the zipper up to the top of the fabric. You’re about to turn, thank him, but his hands back at your waist do the gesture for you. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You look really pretty.” 

You pout. “You’re being too nice to me.” 

Jungkook whines, hugging you close to him. “You’re too cute.” He noses at your temple. “I just wanted to see you smile.” He pulls away after a moment. “Let’s take care of your face, yeah?” He turns around and returns with a small baggy full of ice. “Here, sit down for a second.” He leaves for a second, returning back with a towel. “Maybe… five minutes each eye. I don’t know. I’ll get ready while we’re waiting.” 

So he takes his suit out from his case and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with a towel of ice pressed against your eye. The cooling sensation definitely helps with the puffiness. 

Jungkook appears from the bathroom a few minutes later—dressed in a black suit with a white button-down and a long skinny black tie. His hair has been fiddled with a little, but he still has that messy, boyish, lovable appearance that makes your heart race. 

“Did you switch the towel?” 

You nod. 

“How do you feel?” 

Slowly, you bring the towel down and rest it on your lap. You look at Jungkook. “How do I look?” 

He leans forward towards you, holding your chin gently between his fingers. “You look better. Did you need to finish getting ready?” 

“Yeah. I just need to touch up my makeup.” 

“Okay, go ahead then.” 

Jungkook takes the towel, and watches as you make your way back to the bathroom. You’re only gone for a few minutes before you’re emerging once more—eyeshadow a little darker, lashes a little closer, and lips slightly pinker, but overall still looking like the same version of the girl he fell in love with. 

The pair of you drive to the wedding venue, a cute brick building with browns, greens, and whites surrounding. Guests already swarm the outside area, some of whom you recognize from college. The sight makes you nervous. 

Jungkook sees this, and he reaches over to grab onto your hand. “You can just stick with me, okay?” He smiles. “I’ll protect you.” 

You roll your eyes, but you are thankful to have Jungkook as your source of comfort and be that person you could run back to. 

He parks and meets you at the front of his car, where you lace fingers and make your way towards the venue. You go through a small round of hellos and ‘nice to finally meet you’ conversations—most notably from Mingyu and Jennie, both of whom light up at the sight of your presence. Contrary to your previous worries, you find that you don’t really need to be so nervous. Mingyu and Jennie are friends of Jungkook’s for a reason—they radiate a relaxing nature that you can tell is what has drawn the three of them to each other. 

They ask about you, your college experience, your current experience, passing easy conversation in the ceremony space right before the start of the wedding. It’s fun to see Jungkook joking around with the friends he grew up with, and even more fun to see how easy you are allowed into that world. 

The actual wedding ceremony is a blur. You vaguely recognize the extremely attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Seokjin at the head of the aisle. You definitely recognize the equally as attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Irene, downed in white lace and looking much more beautiful than you ever remember her. Vows are exchanged, kisses are shared, there’s an applause, and pictures are taken before the guests are ushered into the main entry room—decked out with a bar and a few scattered seating areas. Jungkook whispers to you that guests are put here temporarily, as the ceremony space is being converted into a dining area. 

True to Jungkook’s promise, he lingers by your side most of the night. Although you reassure him that you are fine, you are much more emotionally stable compared to a few hours ago, and that perhaps you are okay catching up with Nayeon—another girl from college, actually someone from the first party you ever attended who defended you when you were receiving unwanted attention—but Jungkook simply tells you that he likes being around you. He likes being able to put his arm around you, likes to rest his hand at your waist, likes people knowing that he has you. 

It’s a few more minutes of conversation, of laughter, of old stories being exchanged between people you haven’t seen for years, when the guests are called back into the newly converted dining area. Instead of rows of chairs lined up, there are round tables filling the space. The long panel of doors once closed along the wall of the room have been opened—exposing a gazebo with a D.J. and a dance floor, all encircled by a string of big bright fairy lights. 

You and Jungkook are situated at the same table as most of the guests you recognize from college. You assume this is purposefully done to give you all a common ground, and it works because conversations spring easily between you all. Even when you’re not talking about your experiences from university, you’re able to transition from topic to topic. You and Jungkook occasionally talk amongst yourselves as you’re eating, but you sit together and laugh together when Irene and Seokjin emerge and listen in during the wedding toasts. 

Finally, Irene and Seokjin make their rounds through the room, stopping at the tables to cheer and laugh and exchange a few words of congratulations and conversation. Following this process, everyone at your table stands on their feet as Irene and Seokjin make their way towards you. There are bright smiles, Irene’s cheerful gasp as she takes in all the guests that have come to join her. She circles your table, hugging every guest, continuing this when she reaches you. 

Irene grins at the sight of you. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!” 

“I know!” You return, pulling away from Irene. “Congratulations. This wedding is beautiful.” 

She beams, absolutely radiating in her white dress and glittering makeup. “Thank you so much for coming! But oh my god, are the rumors true, did you really show up—!” She looks over your shoulder, and grins again. “Jungkook!” She hugs Jungkook. “I should be saying congratulations to the two of you. I was surprised to get the text from Jungkook saying that you guys were coming as each other’s dates. Gave me a whole pain because I had to switch some seats around at the last minute. But anything for my favorite people.” She turns to you and holds onto your arms. “Jungkook has had a crush on you for years, so you’re really doing him a huge favor.” 

“Okay, enough,” Jungkook interrupts, scowling. But there is still that playful look in his eyes. “Did all your friends know about this? Jennie knew something was up too when I texted her.” 

Irene presses her lips together. “Mingyu might have mentioned something.” She presses her hand to Jungkook’s cheek. “Stay safe, you guys. Hope you enjoy the rest of the night.” She moves onto her next guest. 

Jungkook is groaning. “Remind me to never tell Mingyu anything ever again.” He glares at the boy from across the table. “Gonna fling some peanuts at that son of a bitch.” 

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist. “Oh, let him be. It’s Irene’s wedding. You can get him tomorrow.” 

Jungkook pouts, but he does wrap his own arm around your shoulder. “Ah, love my girl—promoting evil behavior after festive events.” He kisses your cheek as your table takes their seats once more. 

The good natured atmosphere continues as you and Jungkook down your food, remaining fully engaged in the conversations happening around the table. After another hour of this, the DJ announces the start of the married couple’s first dance. Irene and Seokjin take to the dance floor and spin around, her white dress flowing around the room like light. Underneath the glow of the fairy lights, it looks like the couple is in an entirely new world. And you are so taken by it. 

Jungkook does not turn to you until the DJ plays a slow song—a first slow song after a series of upbeat dance and pop genres. He jerks his head towards the dance floor. “You want to dance?” 

You take his hand when he offers. “Of course.” He leads you across the room, towards the gazebo, where several other couples have moved to cling to one another. Jungkook pulls you in: one hand on your waist and the other with your own hand. “This is really nice,” You start off. 

Jungkook laughs. “The wedding, or the dance?” 

You smile over at him. “Both. Being able to slow dance with you, however, is marginally better.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a little after that. He seems content just staring at your eyes, taking in the magic of this moment. “Thank you for coming with me,” He starts. “The whole road trip thing. Definitely would not have been as fun if I did all that by myself.” 

“Well, thank you for inviting me,” You return. “Even though we had that big misunderstanding. I had a lot of fun.” 

“Hey.” Jungkook angles his head a little so he can look at you in the eyes. “You know that I would never hurt you, right? You’re too important to me that I wouldn’t even think to pull some stupid shit like that again. You know that I love you too much to do that to you, right?” 

“I do know now,” You say, gazing over at him. “And I love you too.” 

You’re not usually an expressive person. But it’s worth saying those words just to see the grin that overtakes Jungkook’s face. It’s worth even more when he leans forward, kissing you openly in front of all his friends, nibbling gently at your bottom lip, running his tongue over the wound, and into your mouth. It’s worth it to have his fingers dusting sweetly over your skin, coaxing your mouth to open to allow exploration. 

It feels like worlds pass before Jungkook pulls away, giving you that breathless smile dimple and all, before he’s leaning forward to bury his face into your neck. 

“I think the drive home will be fun,” Jungkook mutters softly. 

“Hm?” You hum, eyes closed as he presses tiny kisses along your neck. 

“Most definitely,” Jungkook says, lifting himself just enough so that his lips hover over your ear lobe. “Because I plan on fucking you in every hotel bed for the rest of the trip.” 

You feel your heart race, your cheeks heat. Yes, this was definitely worth it. 

[sailorshadzter]

a random one shot in which i twist the entire plot of game of thrones just because i can.

inspired by the prompt: a kiss to your lover's knuckle before a dance.

dont ask me how THIS came from that, it just did LOL

He finds her among the others, dressed in a silk gown of sapphire, made from a bolt of fabric he'd left in her rooms several weeks before. She's laughing, rosy lips curving as she pivots ever so slight, just enough that their eyes find each other's. Her laugh does not fade, but her eyes darken, pink tongue escaping to moisten those lips that only the night before had agonized him in the best of ways. "Your grace," Robb Stark says as he approaches, bowing low before Jon as he falls into place before them. She on the other hand does not move, not at first, smiling as if she holds onto a secret before she sinks into a curtsy, though she never once pulls her eyes from his face.

The Stark siblings have been South for nearly six months now, having arrived at the start of the new year. It was mostly out of peace between their kingdoms- once, their fathers had been at war- now, the sons have taken over and such a war had not been theirs to fight. Cousins by blood, neither Jon nor Robb had wished to shed another drop of family blood. And truth be told, neither had their fragile, broken nations. And so it was peace that was brokered, easily at that, and both Robb, the King in the North, and his sister and heir, Sansa, had come to King's Landing as Jon's honored guests.

"I thought I might dance with the lady," Jon says, beckoning towards Sansa who at least has the grace to blush. Robb casts a glance towards her and then grins as he turns back to Jon. Nodding with approval, he bows again before he makes his way through the crowd, only stopping when he catches sight of the lovely Margaery Tyrell who shines in pale gold damask, a single red rose tucked into the high coils of her hair. Reaching for her hand, he brings it close to his lips, brushing a soft kiss to her knuckles. Such a gesture sends shivers down her spine. "You look beautiful," he says as the music begins again, a slower tune that brings them closer together. They're both aware of the eyes that watch them, the King and the heir to the North, though they pay little mind of any of them watching. Her hand is small and warm in his, while her other hand dares to brush across the nape of his neck. That is what matters, that feeling her touch gives him. "That dress is most becoming."

She laughs, soft and twinkling, and once again those lips curve with a smile. "It is only because of this fine silk," she insists, though even she has been unable to do little else but admire the gown she's crafted for this night. Though quite unlike the styles of the North, she has retained some of her roots, for her red hair remains woven into braids, although it shimmers with a gem covered netting gifted to her by Margaery. That and the pendant she wears around her neck was stamped with her House sigil, worn once by her own father.

He twirls her out and then back in, closer than ever before, though she's uncertain as to how they could ever be closer. But then she snickers, recalling in fact, they could be much closer. As if Jon senses what she's thinking, it's his turn to chuckle, dipping his head down low, so close that his breath tickles her ear as he whispers what he's thought many times that evening. "I do wonder what it looks like upon the floor of my chamber, though." She blushes deep to the core of her hair, but she's breathless all the same. She likes it and he knows it. He loves that she likes it, truthfully.

Sansa Stark had come to King's Landing after a dark, somber period in her life. Once the spoiled, pampered princess of the North, she had been left alone in Winterfell with her youngest siblings, protected by the bitter cold and a small armed force. While her father had been in King's Landing, plotting against Jon's father, Rhaegar Targaryen, her mother had been with Robb on their way to join Ned in the South. What could not protect Sansa nor her siblings was the traitor Bolton House, that swept in upon hearing of Ned's death in battle and took Winterfell for themselves. Sansa was locked away in chambers and never again saw her siblings- Arya lost to the Northern wilderness, the boys certainly smothered in their chambers while they slept.

When Jon's father and Robert Baratheon was found dead after the last fight in what would now be called Robert's Rebellion- he and Robb met on the battlefield. It was Jon who spoke of peace and Robb who asked for nothing but to have help saving his sister from the unspeakable suffering she endured while held prisoner by Ramsay, the bastard born son of Roose Bolton. And save Sansa they had. Riding in at the head of an army, Robb and Jon swooped in and took Winterfell back in the name of House Stark.

Back then, she had worn her black gowns as armor, keeping to herself for the first few weeks of their arrival. Jon had assigned to her a few handmaidens and one in particular, Shae, certainly had found her place as Sansa's confidante. And then there was Margaery Tyrell, the beautiful and wealthy heiress to the Tyrell family. She had been the first to bring Sansa from her shell, the first person Jon had seen make her smile in the first six weeks of her stay. And then... One day... One day she had found him, all alone, in the quietest corner of the massive gardens. She had blushed, stammering an apology, turning to go before Jon could stop her. Two weeks later, they met again in similar fashion, though this time it had been Jon who happened upon her. They met here among the flowers nearly every day after that, hidden from prying eyes by rose bushes and fauna of the brightest green, side by side on the small stone bench.

That simple stone bench had been the place of their first kiss, a soft kiss that left him tingling long after she'd gone. Jon can't really remember when he'd begun to realize the depth of his feelings, but it was sometime between her falling in love with Ghost and Ghost with her, he really never could figure out which came first. But in truth, seeing her sink to the floor in his chambers to hug his neck, or to find the wolf asleep in her bed was all he'd needed to know the truth of how he felt. He loved her. He loved her beyond anything else in his entire life.

"The song is over..." It's her whispering and he jolts back to reality, realizing that indeed the song has ended and they still yet stand together. Springing apart, Jon offers her a most regal bow, his hand reaching for hers as he had done at the beginning. "Jon..." She calls him by name as the music strikes up another tune, this one quicker, though neither of them are thinking of dancing now.

"Meet me, in our usual spot," he murmurs over her knuckles before he drops her hand and disappears into the crowd. Sansa remains where she stands for several long moments more, her hand still yet warm where his lips had touched.

[ x x x ]

He hears her footsteps as she approaches.

There on the stone bench, he waits in silence for her, knowing without a doubt that she would come. She does not hesitate as she once might have, rather she sinks into her place at his side, silk skirts rustling with her movements. From above, the clouds shift, exposing her to the moon's pale light- though he cannot believe it, she's even far more beautiful with moonlight woven into her hair. He swallows, reaching out, hesitantly, to trace the length of her jaw with trembling fingers. "Jon..." Once again she calls him by his name and her hand reaches up, taking hold of his. This alone is enough to comfort him, to give him a sense of courage he's not even felt in battle before.

"Marry me," he says these words simply, without the hesitation from moment's before. She blinks, staring at him as if she's not heard him correctly. Before she can say a word, he's falling down to a knee before her, there on the stone bench, still yet clutching her hand. "Marry me, Sansa," he goes on, smiling up at her, those blue eyes wide in her ivory features. "It is the one thing in this life I have ever wanted-" to be a prince and then a king? It was not his first choice in life, but if he was going to do it... He wanted it to be with a woman he truly loved at his side. And despite the short time he's known her, he knows there can be no other. That there would never be another. This was not a king asking a princess, a noble, it was a man asking a woman. Nothing more, nothing less.

She cannot believe him when he speaks and yet... His dark eyed stare is so poignant, his words so very heartfelt. And truth be told, her her skips a beat at the realization of what he's asked of her. To marry him... To be his wife... Was it not what she dreamed of, if only in the privacy of her own mind? There is a warmth spreading through her and she finds herself to be nodding, over and over again nodding as she smiles brighter than she's ever smiled in all of her life. And then finally... She says what he's been waiting for.

"Yes."

When he rises up, she rises along with him, her heart singing as his hands slide into place against her cheeks. He could have spent forever right there in those gardens with her, if only time would allow. But he knows soon they must return to the ball and then to a new life they would build for themselves.

A happy world, a perfect world.

[crescentmoons-and-stardust]

Twisted Tales: Mercy, the Fifth Sister

Mercy decided she wanted to be married. Her four older sisters weren’t married yet despite their father’s attempts. The villager’s men were weary of the Duke’s daughter but that would not be a problem for Mercy. She already had a beau to marry, now she just needed to convince him to propose. 

But then, Ichabod came to town. He was a pastor of their faith, come to help teach the children of the village. He was welcomed into the Duke’s home as honored guest and quickly became entranced by the boldest of the elder daughters. Mercy was near hysterics when her father told her that the pastor had asked for her hand in marriage. 

“I’m supposed to marry Brom!” She cried.

“Brom hasn’t asked to marry you. But Ichabod has. It will be a good match.” And like that it was done. Or so the Duke thought. Mercy began to plant the seeds of her plot to get out of the marriage that very night.

“Ichabod,” She said that night over dinner. “Did you know this town is haunted?”

“I don’t believe in such things.”

“Oh, but you would if you came across our dreaded phantom in the middle of the night. They say he can be spotted on Bones Hill, behind the cemetery late at night. He was a criminal who was beheaded for his crimes. Now he is forever searching for his head.”

Ichabod scoffed at her tale but Mercy insisted this was what the villagers believed in. She coyly suggested he might perform an exorcism just to appease the villagers. Ichabod was a vain man and the idea of being the village’s hero appealed to him. So they decided that on the next full moon, he could journey to Bones Hill to perform the task.

Later in the dead of night Mercy began to create her ghost. She collected animal bones and tree branches to make a crude skeleton and tied it together with twine and wire. She bought a deer from the local hunter and gutted it for more parts. She used the rib cage and one of the antlers for an arm. The other arm was made from the deer’s femur and she used the rest of the longer bones to fashion legs. She fitted an old pair of pants and a shirt over the skeleton and stuffed them with leaves and pieces of meat from the deer. She even made skin for the hands and feet from old leather and the flesh of the deer. When she was finally satisfied, she recruited her sisters to help bring the abomination to life. 

They put the thing in the center of a circle and followed Verity’s chants. They each offered the creature a gift. A drop of blood, a strand of hair, a recently fallen milktooth, a petal from a marigold, a few tears, a memory, a secret, a wish and a dream. Next to Mercy, Chairty took the creature’s hand made of twigs and gave it a kiss. Finally, he was given a name. 

“Victor,” Mercy decided. And once the name left her lips, the thing began to rise. The younger girls shrieked in fear and delight. It jerked awkwardly to its feet and took a few lunging steps. It was horrifying. It was perfect.

They hid Victor in the woods until the full moon. Mercy walked him over to Bones Hill that night and whispered what he had to do.

“I want Ichabod gone from this village and from my life. Do whatever it takes,” She told it then retreated back to the woods. Mercy and her sisters waited in their wooded glen in anticipation for Victor to return. They heard a single scream that pierced the night air. It was almost dawn when he came staggering into view.

“Is it done?” Mercy asked it. The creature dipped its body in imitation of a nod. 

That morning, Mercy was excited to see Ichabod and hear of his experience. She hoped he would leave that very day.

But Ichabod did not appear at breakfast and soon a search was put out. They searched for a week but they never found him. Mercy felt uneasy as each day passed and wished that Victor had a mouth to tell her what had happened. She hoped that Ichabod had simply fled in fear. Guilt gnawing at her, she visited Bones Hill. She searched not knowing what she was looking for. As she got closer to the woods, she decided there was nothing to see, when a patch of red among the dead grass caught her eye. She followed the trail of red until it led to a large lump half buried in the mud. 

The stench overwhelmed her and she almost retched from it. She wanted to turn away but she forced herself to look at the half mauled body that used to be Ichabod. His stomach had been torn open by wolves and his guts lay scattered about but it was his face that would haunt Mercy for the rest of her life. His eyes were wide open and his mouth would forever be frozen in a scream of terror.

[sabraeal]

Of Silk & Spell Betwined

Here is the second holiday gift you all voted for! The Fae AU tied with Drink Deep of Lethe on its first round, and once again, only won by one vote on the tie breaker! I’d been hoping to get the original Of Silk & Spell Betwined written up into a full chapter...and then 2K+ of set up came out, making it into another, much more fitting chapter for the title 🤣

[Read on AO3]

Raj might have left it to his title to impress when first they met-- or at least, his flank of guards barricading the door to her tiny apothecary. But tonight, it seems, he has taken a different tack.

No. Shirayuki stifles a sigh. It’s no use lying to herself, not when she’s made her name by seeing things as they truly are. This whole week has been a change in tack for the marquess; a wooing, true and simple, rather than a show of strength. And tonight, this ball, is the culmination of all his efforts, one last display of wealth and affection to sway her.

A useless one, but there is no telling that to the gaggle of young maids that pour into her room. Local girls, by the way they titter and cluck, their lilt achingly familiar even if their faces are not. Castle girls never made their way to the village outskirts, not unless they needed to unmake a mistake. Girls like those came shrouded by the dead of night and heavy cloak both, never showing their faces. If any of these young things recognized her, they made no sign of it, hurrying over to her trunk instead to open it with curious hands.

And fall silent.

“Milady,” one of them says finally, nearly choked by the word. “Is this your only gown?”

The only one fit to be paraded before the duke and his like. “It is the one I’m wearing.”

They draw together, a flock of thoroughly harassed fowl. Not a single one of them makes to reach into the trunk, their hands fastidiously knotted at their apron strings, pale as lace.

With as much politeness as she can summon, Shirayuki asks, “Is there something wrong?”

“No, milady,” one is quick to assure her, but still, not a single hand flutters, not a single tongue wags. “It’s only...”

“Something ain’t right about it,” the youngest of them blurts out, eyes wide enough to show white. “I cannae put my hands on it or my fingers’ll fall off, I know it, sure as--” her teeth clamp down, gaze flickering up to where Shirayuki stands-- “the sun rises.”

Curiosity gets the better of her. Her wardrobe had been the last thing to interest her while she prepared for her first jaunt to the mortal world. Beyond worrying that the silk and wool might indeed be just glamour, leaving her naked beneath the burning sun, she hadn’t thought much about it. But now--

Now she gets within five paces of the trunk and is assaulted by honey, bright and sweet as it coats her tongue. There’s a dozen other scents-- sage and lavender, the briefest burst of citrus that sets her eyes stinging-- but after a week with only the earthy musk of man and the gentle fragrance of autumn, the magic overwhelms her.

Her hand reaches, and by the time her thoughts catch up to her heels, the act is done. That arcane hum vibrates through her, her next breath of sweet summer rather than mortal decay; as if the knowe itself had followed her, stowing away like a child in a cart. And yet--

Yet it was just a dress. A gown, not in the fashion of mortals, but in the drapery of the sidhe; the very same they might wrap one of their honored guests in before she danced to death beneath the mound. Made of silk as any other-- or at least possessing the seeming of it. Shirayuki knew not what sort of creature might spin the thread that sidhe wove, but she doubted it would be anything so practical as worms and mulberry trees.

And no silk she knew could hold magic like this, as if it had been spun into every thread, a spell woven with shuttle and loom rather than thought and will. It leaps into her, not a jolt but a kiss, a caress made of sunlight and sweet grass. This was no spell to set her feet to dancing, but a shield; so deftly done that only a master’s hands could have wrought it into being.

“It’s all right.” A smile rises to her lips, unbidden. “None of you need worry yourself with this. I’m a deft hand with putting on my own clothes, after all.”

The maids are happy enough to leave her to wrangle the yards of slippery fabric Izana has saddled her with. The whole of them gather up by the door to her boudoir, a tight little bundle of striped cotton and dubious expression as she lets it glide over her shift, settling against her skin. She’s half afraid it will slip off her, but whatever warding is in its weft and warp keeps every layer of it flowing easy as water from a fall, never moving more than she wills it. There’s laces still that dangle down her back, requiring a firm hand to pull them tight, but even with the impressed glances her women give her, Shirayuki knows better than to ask.

“It’s quite all right if you get to other business,” she says brightly, hands clasped tight in her lap. “I’m sure you have more pressing things to do than watch me until evening.”

A concerned murmur ripples through her flock. “But your hair, Miss,” one maid says, mouth set in a stern line. “You’ll be needing us for that then. And the rouging--”

“Ah!” Her hand flies up before she can stop it, as if it were but a wayward apprentice. “None of that will be necessary. And I’ve done fine enough with my hair before.”

Fool that she is, she turns her back to them. It is, after all, how Raj ends any conversation he considers no longer worth having, and the topic feels quite closed, from where she stands.

It is not, not at the least. Her maids may quail at spell-woven silk, but to intimate she can handle her toilette-- that is a step too far.

They do not so much approach as descend, skirts and fingers fluttering at the edge of her vision, and Shirayuki--

Shirayuki knows well enough the appearance of a battle lost. With a sigh, she submits.

“Hah!” Obi does not so much enter as resolve into the room, shadow settling into smile before the rest of him follows. “I’m guessing the maids were all over you, Miss?”

“Mhm.” Fate has never cowed her, but perhaps if it ambushed her as those women had, she would be in this castle still. “Do you think you could...?” He flinches, and she amends, “Please help me.”

Shirayuki turns her back to him, the laces shaking down her back. Obi does not still so much as dissolve, his outline suddenly indistinct against the deepening night. “Some maids these are,” he laughs, finally, steps cat-light as he approaches. “Leaving a job half done.”

The silk tugs against her skin, settling like a glove as Obi pulls it fast with professional precision. Not a single knuckle brushes against her stays, nor even a hint of a finger gone astray. Only the strange cushion of his magic, the gentle nip of his geasa at her back “They wouldn’t touch it.” 

Her arms prickle with the soft bristle of pine, but it’s no longer unpleasant, just...Obi. “I can’t say I blame them, Miss. Elder Highness wove enough magic into this to strangle a Formorian.”

She’d thought the same; albeit with less color. “Does he think there will be trouble?”

“Doesn’t trouble go without saying when it comes to the Shenezard?” Obi grumbles, copper flooding her tongue. “But maybe what that monkey said got to him too. About that pretty boy.”

“Maybe.” Her hand raises to her throat, rubbing at the ribbon around her throat. Pine pricks under her fingertips, reassuring. “Do you think--?”

“What’s that?”

There’s a flutter of shadow, flickering at the corner of her eye, and Shirayuki-- she jumps, even knowing just whose golden eyes loom over her. “Wha--?”

Obi doesn’t speak, but the fixed point of his gaze is all the answer she needs. Her fingers might be gloved, but the embroidery nips at her as she spreads them along it, playful like a kitten.

“I don’t think,” he says, strangely stilted, “that this sort of thing is in fashion.”

“Perhaps,” she allows with a gentle smile. “But I was told quite sternly that I couldn’t tie my hair with it, and it felt...wrong to leave it behind.”

His hand lifts, a finger outstretched as if to trace the line of his gift across her throat. Her breath catches, trapped in the cage of her chest, the moment stretching thin--

But it drops, boneless at his side, replaced by that canted grin. “What a waste, Miss. I bet his lordship would have been happy to have diamonds dripping down your neck, if you let him.”

“I’d rather this.” It’s not only his eyes that pulse wide, but the long black of his pupils, like a cat on the hunt before he settles back into himself. “I need confidence more than jewels, and this...”

Shirayuki always speaks the truth, but this-- this one is too raw to let loose. Instead, she demures, chin ducking into the curve of her collarbone. “I never thought I’d be so nervous.”

It’s as if the shadows finally shake him loose; one minute he is shrouded in them, and the next he’s solid, clad in a black shades lighter than the one he can summon, trimmed in a gold whose shine pales next to his grin. “Well, don’t forget you’re an honored guest of the marquess. If any of this lot gives you trouble, you can just stick to him.”

Shirayuki heaves a sigh, knitting her fingers in her skirts. “Hiding behind Raj’s title won’t do us any good. Not if Izana wants to make an alliance with the world above.”

“You’ve won over tougher crowds,” Obi reminds her, brows creeping up toward his hairline. “What is it you’re worried about, Miss?”

“I’ve lived a long time beneath the mounds.” Less time than it took for the seasons to pass out here, but she preferred not to think of things such as that, not if she wanted to sleep well at night. “What if--? Ah, I mean, I might not know how to comport myself among man as well as I did when I lived among them. If you see me acting weird,” she tells him, mouth pulled into a grim line, “Give me some sort of signal. Like...clearing your throat.”

He’s far too amused for such a simple request. “As you wish, my lady.”

“Ah, but you see!” She sweeps closer, enough that his geasa sting her skin. “You change yourself so completely when it’s called for. If only you could teach me...”

“Ah, Miss.” He’s not longer grinning now, but something more sweet, more melancholy. “I think you’ll win these lords and ladies over well enough, just on your own.”

She blinks up at him. “Obi--”

The knock interrupts her.

“Ah...” Comes the muffled call through the door. “Sir Obi...?”

Obi doesn’t bother to walk across the room, just takes one step into the shadows and comes out at the door, his edges too indistinct for a mortal man. A breath makes him solid, the handle turning beneath the press of his palm. “You called?”

The messenger outside shuffles, obscured by the long, lean line of Obi’s body. “There’s been a, ah, erm...” He coughs. “A message, I believe. From your...lord?”

Shirayuki squirms, trying to see around the stern set of Obi’s shoulders; she needn’t have bothered at all, for as soon as he turns, she sees the dove, coddled in his hands.

She breathes, hands trembling. “It’s from...?”

Obi quirks a brow, grimly amused. “Do you think so?”

“Ah, I’m--”

He holds up a hand. “Not that either. Let us listen.”

Obi crosses the room on two legs, setting the bird down on a table. “All right then,” he says, folding his arms. “Sing your song.”

The dove opens it’s beak, but no coo comes out, merely Mitsuhide’s voice, pure and clear. “I hope all is well with the two of you.”

There’s a pause after that, long enough that Obi snorts. “Could be going better.”

“About the matter we discussed before you left,” Mitsuhide continues, his discomfort growing with every word. “There has been some news.”

Obi crouches, the dove shying back with a flap of its wings. Still, the message plays on.

“It seems our person of interest and his companion are no longer within His Highness’s purview. It seems--” Mitsuhide swallows-- “that they are no longer within those of our neighbors as well.”

“Does that--?” Shirayuki catches herself, only just. “Then they are--”

“Yes,” Obi grunts, levering himself to standing. “Pretty boy and his friends have gone through the veil.” He turns those golden eyes on her, glowing the way no man’s should. “Their hunt’s begun.”