#thank u for reading my tags hope u are having a nice day

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 3

part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol

not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf

in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 2 here<

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By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.

Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.

Just his luck, of course.

But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!

So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.

… Kind of.

That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…

That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.

No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.

It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.

Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.

So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…

Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.

He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.

Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.

Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.

Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.

It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.

It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.

Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.

Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.

He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.

The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.

He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)

Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.

Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!

In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto… something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.

Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.

Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.

What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.

The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.

From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.

No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.

Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!

He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.

He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.

Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.

Shit!!!

Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!

... Okay, plan B!

Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.

Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.

The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.

One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.

Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.

The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.

Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.

They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.

The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.

He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.

“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.

“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.

Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.

Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.

The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.

Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.

“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.

“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.

He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”

“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.

They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.

Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.

The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.

They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.

After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.

“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.

Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.

“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!

Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?

Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.

“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.

He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”

Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”

“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”

Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”

Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”

Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.

“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”

Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”

Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”

“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.

Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.

Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”

Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”

Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”

“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”

Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”

Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”

Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”

Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”

Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.

Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”

Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”

“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”

“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.

They both laughed.

“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”

“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.

“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”

It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”

Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.

“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.

Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.

And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.

A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”

He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.

“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”

Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.

“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.

“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”

The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.

“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”

“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.

Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.

“Uh. What--”

Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”

Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.

Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!

Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”

Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”

The world screeched to a halt.

Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”

Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”

Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”

Damn. Damn it all.

Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”

Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”

Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.

“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”

Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”

Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.

“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”

“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”

Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”

Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”

The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”

Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”

Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.

But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.

The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.

He was standing so close to him! Oh god!

The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.

Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.

“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.

All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.

Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.

Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.

Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.

Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.

Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.

After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.

“Damn. There you are,”

Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.

Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”

The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.

“Hobie!”

Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”

“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.

“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”

“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”

Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.

Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.

With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.

“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.

“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.

“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”

“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. ��Yeah… let’s swing!”

Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.

Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.

“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.

Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.

“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”

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Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…

Miles: gonna*

MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]

Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)

Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects

MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..

Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn

Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates

Miles: It be ya own people

From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.

From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.

[brother-emperors]

Allow me, if you will, a moment to go absolutely rabid over your blog and everything that goes on here. I’ve always loved history but the USA hardly likes teaching anything that isn’t American History. I’ve forgotten how much I love WORLD history, specifically the rise and fall of empires.

I’ve been smothering myself in your posts and I love it ALL. JC, Pompey, Crassus, Sulla, Octavian, Antony, Cassius, and Brutus. Wow what a mood. You don’t miss on your references or your modern AU’s and I’m over here like- I’m trying to buy whatever web comic you put out, book you write, etc.

Also, if you’d be so kind to list some material with like themes to start breaking into these topics. Preferably materials in English or translated materials.

HELL YEAH LET'S GO

if you really want to start on the ground floor for breaking into something, I'd recommend my personal favorite approach which is picking the figure that's most interesting to you, reading through plutarch's biography on them (free! online! in english!) and then putting their name through a jstor search and reading whatever sounds fun.

other than that, the primary theme I've been wandering around in lately, so these are the materials I've been really enjoyed related to that:

The Deaths of the Republic: Imagery of the Body Politic in Ciceronian Rome, Brian Walters

The Game of Death in Ancient Rome: Arena Sport and Political Suicide, Paul Plass

Ideology in Cold Blood: A Reading of Lucan's Civil War, Shadi Bartsch

Statius and Virgil: The Thebaid and the Reinterpretation of the Aeneid, Randall T. Ganiban

Rome, Blood & Power, Gareth C Sampson

I also have a comparatives tag where I play connect the dots with texts that made my brain go brrr

[crescentfool]

Hi 👉👈 I don’t have a lot to say, I just wanted to hi give you from across the room because I followed you for P3 but it turns out you and I share a ton of fandoms and I just think that’s really super neat.

You get a good grade in fandom taste 💖

WAVES HI!! thank you for the follow and message, it makes me happy to hear that you've enjoyed seeing the other media i've reblogged stuff of! P3 is definitely something i hold close to my heart, but i have lots of media i'm full of love for too! so thank you for appreciating it, i hope you enjoy your stay! 🥺💙

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (07) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 15.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: One of my fave chapters! I hope you like this one! And just a heads up that intervals between posting days will be longer as the chapters get longer, too. And bc u know, life... HAHA but again, thank you so much for all the love for this like??? HOW. PLS you've all been so nice so thank you! 🥰 Also… JK in that SNTY suit.

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Mr. Ri loads the luggages in the trunk and you double check that all bags - which you helped pack yesterday - are complete. You enter the car right after and head to the airport where Jungkook will fly to Singapore for a few meetings and to attend Seokjin’s alcohol launch party. 

It’s been over a month since the Arts Center event and so much has happened since then. Jungkook went to Jeju to meet an artist and then to Japan over a weekend to meet another two. He’s been on calls with a few more with plans to meet in their country of residence in the next months, and he’s gone around different local towns to meet with craftspeople for souvenirs and future exhibitions. He’s also touched base with various national and international Korean arts and culture organizations for promotion and joint projects. The event opened doors for a new network that he hoped for. There are now proposals for other collaborations and side engagements that’s doing a lot for the company’s brand and expansion. 

To say that Jungkook and the team have been busy is an understatement. You went back to work after those few days of recovering with everyone overwhelmed by all the things they had to do but like you expected, you all managed and got things organized. There are still multiple things to handle all at once, but everyone’s just been on top of everything and showing how competent you all are as individuals and as a team.

Within that period, Jungkook has stopped by the team’s office and the pantry more times than those first months. He also managed to laugh at Do-hyun’s unfiltered remarks a few times and even slipped his own that got the team giggling. He’s seemed a lot more relaxed and so has the team. Lunch meetings have been regular given all the work you all have to do. Yohan and Chin-sun even say that they’ve gotten to know Jungkook a little better through their visits to the Arts Center. And while they do think he’s still a bit detached and catch him in his own world sometimes, he’s a lot more engaged and is actually way smarter than they’d initially thought. 

Jungkook checks his phone and sighs, prompting you to turn to him.

“Seokjin says the party is an intimate event but there’s gonna be over two-fifty guests so I don’t know about that,” he shakes his head, showing you the restaurant bar where his friend will be launching his alcohol brand. “For some reason, he expects me and Tae to entertain guests on his behalf.”

This was another development you hadn’t expected. Since that morning when Jungkook sent you food when you were unwell, your relationship changed. It’s still professional but there’s more openness now, as if that prompted both of you to be comfortable around each other. 

There’s more trust and honesty, too - he lets you make decisions, lets you handle the team when he’s away, and asks you for your unfiltered opinion. You feel like all the time you spend together has allowed you to learn how he sees and understands things; you even finish his sentences sometimes. 

He’s also loosened up a bit and allows himself to laugh and smile more. They’re still rare occurrences but you never point them out, not wanting him to feel awkward and then stop. They often catch you off guard so you haven’t been able to fully appreciate them but at least he feels comfortable around you, enough to even talk about non-work stuff and things that fill his mind, like random questions or small concerns. 

You’re unsure if he notices how uninhibited he’s become but you don’t point it out either. He still has his moments of living in his head, his faraway thoughts rendering him quiet and observant, and his perfectionist attitude means he’s still critical sometimes. But he doesn’t take anything out on you - not his frustrations nor his fears. He’d usually keep to himself and talk to you once he’s cooled down and you’d take that any day, so long as you keep your sanity and are able to do your tasks as instructed.

In return, you let yourself be the same. You’ve fully restored your confidence and that’s allowed you to show just how capable you are. You’ve been more vocal with your thoughts, too, and don’t take it personally when he doesn’t agree. You smile a lot more, joke with him even, and have been more generous with words of encouragement and affirmation. They come more naturally than you expected, and you appreciate that he doesn’t turn you away whenever it happens.

He’s actually okay to be around when he’s not being grumpy or difficult. You suppose that the situations he was put in - and how you responded with patience and understanding - allowed him to see that you’re truly on his side and that let him put his guard down a little. You’re past trying to please him for the sake of making your job bearable; there’s actual joy in it now, and while the search for who you are outside of all this continues to ring in your head, you think that sticking around for now isn’t so bad either.

“Perhaps Seokjin has seen how good you are with entertaining guests now and deems you worthy of being an extension of him,” you respond to Jungkook’s earlier musings. “And he wouldn’t be wrong. You’ve become really good at it.”

“You know, I think you oversell me sometimes,” he chuckles. 

“Hmm, I think I don’t,” you counter. “If I may say so, Mr. Jeon, it's just that the bar was pretty low so the improvements are quite striking.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs, not taking offense.

“You can still do better at charming people. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from Seokjin and Taehyung,” you push.

“Those two flirt, they don’t charm,” he playfully rolls his eyes.

“Well, I completely disagree, sir. I mean, I’ve seen it firsthand. And I’m not one who’s easily charmed.”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can pick from them, then,” he concedes.

“Kidding aside, I think you’ll be fine, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s unrelated to work so there’s no need to impress anyone,” you state. 

“True,” he hums. “But just thinking about these next few days is already making me tired. Tae rented a yacht for tonight. We have Seokjin’s launch tomorrow, and to celebrate, he’s throwing another party the day after.”

“Hmm, must be that you’re getting old,” you tease, earning you a hum in agreement. “But you’re used to that though, right? They always said that was your life back in Singapore.”

“It was. I had less responsibilities and people to manage but back then, everything seemed too much,” he shares. “I took the weekends seriously and really just did whatever I wanted. I haven’t done much of that these past weeks because I’ve been so tired and I feel like I’m under the microscope when I’m here. So yeah, I’ll probably just take advantage of being back there and just enjoy it.”

“As you should,” you say. “You’ve worked hard and you deserve to spend your weekend however you wish. Just, uh…”

“What?”

“Probably give Lucas a heads-up in case a half-naked woman greets him in the kitchen on Monday morning.”

The silence is deafening and you think you’ve crossed a line with this one. You turn towards him and he looks stunned at your unfiltered remark.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in apology. “That was too personal.”

“It’s okay,” he responds after a beat of silence. “I guess I deserve that. I mean, I never apologized for the morning when you experienced exactly that. And for when you found that underwear on the floor, which I forgot to clean up. So, uh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, too. I got over it,” you assure him. “And if anything, I’m pretty sure she left that on purpose so she’ll have a reason to come back.”

“That’s exactly it,” he groans. “She saw me again and wanted to go to my apartment so she could get it. I told her I threw it away.”

“How brutal,” you tease again.

“Not my finest moment but yeah, I’m sorry to put you in that position. Must’ve been tough seeing proof of all the washroom gossip.”

“You know about those?” You gasp. 

“I’ve heard about them,” he sighs. “Mr. Ri’s got eyes and ears in the office.”

“It’s hard to defend so I just don’t try,” the older man shakes his head. “Not like you deny it anyway.”

“Not like I really care,” Jungkook shrugs. “But even then, I guess it wasn’t the best start for us,” he tells you.

“Perhaps not, but I’m not one to judge, Mr. Jeon. That’s all in the past now, and that feels like a lifetime ago.”

“It does,” he hums. 

It’s during these casual exchanges when you get to see a bit more of Jungkook as the person that he is, beyond the perfectionist executive who still harbors fears and worries about his new role. He’s still a human being who finds ways to deal with the stresses of life, someone who needs time to step away from his burdensome responsibilities, someone who seeks intimacy and connection and finds ways to attain them in his own ways. The doubts and worries are still there, but the foundation has stabled a bit. Somehow you think that you’ve created a space safe enough for him to talk about them, to apologize, and to try to be better. You hope he gets to create that for himself, too, and if that’s what you’ll leave him with by the time you decide to step away from this job, you think you’d be satisfied. 

Silence engulfs you both and like he often is after being vulnerable with you, he keeps to himself once again. You wait a while before running through his meetings for today and next week and inform him of what the team will be working on while he’s away. Jungkook responds with a few last-minute instructions, especially about the tasks he needs done in time for your team meeting on Monday. You’re both back to professional talk and you don’t really mind; there’s something about being honest and open that could be a bit disarming.

The car stops and Mr. Ri exits to retrieve the luggage from the trunk. Jungkook, in his navy blue suit, gathers his things and says goodbye. Before he can close the door, you call out his name.

“Yeah?” He asks, his one hand carrying his bag and the other, on the roof of the car as he bends to look at you.

“Happy birthday,” you say. “I know you think it’s just an ordinary day but I hope you celebrate well.”

“Thank you,” he says after a few seconds, basking in the softness of your smile for the short moment that he can.

Jungkook steps away then closes the door. He heads to the airport lounge before taking the 6-hour flight to Singapore, spending it on reviewing reports and design proposals. He goes straight to the office when he lands, settling down in his room where he responds to emails. He munches on some dumplings for lunch, thinking he’s missed the ones from the restaurant across the street, but then Lucas enters and sets down a bowl of seaweed soup.

“Ms. Cho asked me to get this for you, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook is caught off guard but manages to dismiss Lucas and tastes the dish. It’s nothing like his mother’s, but then again, he hasn’t had it in years. When Jungkook moved here, there were no celebrations apart from getting drunk at a club, which is also why he’d stopped thinking of his birthday as anything special. There were no traditional meals or well wishes or birthday cakes.

He’s here again. There’s that yacht party tonight but it won’t feel like a celebration. Somehow, with this bowl of soup, this does. You’re a thousand miles away but even then, he still feels your presence. Even then, he feels more cared for than he has these past several years combined.

Jungkook wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache. His neck feels a bit strained, given that he’d slept in an awkward position wearing his clothes from last night. He also barely remembers much. One minute he was drinking with a woman around his arm and the next he’s… here. 

He shifts and lays flat on his back, groaning as last night’s happenings manifest in the soreness of his entire body. The yacht was fancy, as he’d expected from his best friends. There was overflowing food and drinks, the music was great, and the guests were honestly too many for his liking. There were familiar faces and new ones, but he mostly stuck around with those he knew. What he also remembers is not being able to taste his cake. He’s definitely calling Seokjin to complain.

Suddenly hit with the thought of not knowing how he’d gotten home last night - or with whom - Jungkook sits up and groans once more, the incoming call adding to the ringing sound in his head.

“Mr. Jeon,” Lucas answers on the other end. “How are you feeling today?”

“Terrible,” Jungkook says, now finding the strength to get off the bed. “Did you take me home?”

“Yes, sir. You wanted to leave so Mr. Ri and I took you to your penthouse,” Lucas answers. “Your valuables are on the table.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing it was one of those nights. Removing his clothes, he sees the fresh marks on his chest. Wanting to prepare himself before finding some stranger in the other room, he asks his assistant if he’d brought someone home with him.

“No, sir. It was just you. She, uh, she asked to come but you told her you were too tired so she stayed behind.”

“Oh, good,” Jungkook exhales in relief, not wanting to deal with any of that this morning, which is one reason why he always asks them to leave. “How long do I have until I have to get ready for tonight?”

“About five hours,” the younger man replies. “You have a scheduled dinner with your friends at 5:30 and then the event at 8. I’ll be there before that to help you get ready.”

“Alright, thanks. I’ll just workout to deal with this hangover.”

“Medicines are in the cupboard, sir. Please just let me know if there’s anything more you need.”

“I will.”

Jungkook hangs up and presses on his temples as if that’ll do anything. He retrieves the medicine as advised and thinks of something else he needs - a cup of lemon ginger tea. Ever since you’d prepared one for him that one morning, he’s been having it after every night out. He calls the butler to have it prepared for him, given that he doesn’t have the energy to do so himself. 

It arrives, and coupled with the aspirin, he’s starting to somehow feel better. He knows that heading to the gym will do the trick, as it always does, but it still makes him think that he shouldn’t have drank as much as he did last night. 

For someone who’s not particularly fond of people, even Jungkook sometimes wonders why he goes out and parties as much as he does. 

He wasn’t always like this though. His weekends used to be spent on food trips and travels, but after the breakup with Chaerin, those days became free, and he’d stay out late so he could sleep the rest of the next day. The women were to make up for the loneliness; the alcohol was to forget why he needed them in the first place. He hates loud and unnecessary sounds, but the music and the chatter started to become white noise for him; they’d become a companion to help deal with the noise in his own head, or the lack of it. 

Years later, the remaining thoughts in his mind were just all about work, and he’d revert to the same habit for relief - the women became his thrill; the alcohol was so he wouldn’t remember them. 

And it works. The ecstasy lasts only through the night. It’s fleeting as his desire for them is. He doesn’t recall names, just that they made him feel good and that they felt the same; they often try to hook up with him again after all, seeking him in the clubs they know he frequents. But he rarely entertains them; a second time leads to a third, and he can’t be assured that they won’t ask the same tiring questions he hates hearing - why doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Why doesn’t he want to commit to anyone? Does he see himself settling down and having a family? What’ll make him want that?

It’s happened a few times, during the rare instances that there’s a lull in between and they take advantage of his brief period of vulnerability to make him open up. He never does, and it’s not because he thinks it’s a weakness to do so, but he just never really let the moment linger to find out. 

After a light meal, Jungkook heads to the gym and spends three hours expending his energy so he could get it back. 

This is his other means of dealing with his stress. Working out makes him focus on something else and it helps in releasing all his anger and frustration. As he stares at his bare body in the mirror right after - the marks from last night still visible - he scoffs at himself. 

He’s so stereotypical, it makes him sick. He’s allowed himself to let his life revolve around the shallow and fleeting sensations of pleasure to counter the permanence and inevitability of his job. This is his world and he made it this way. And while he drowns in the nothingness inside the walls that he created, he still thinks it’s better than being outside; somehow he thinks it’s lonelier and more burdensome out there. At least in here, he’s all he has to deal with; he’s all he can disappoint.

But there are still moments when he wonders what it could be like if he just dared to live differently. Like when he watches Seokjin animatedly explain the history and creation process of Korean traditional alcohol during the product launch that evening and how his passion is moving and infectious. Or when he observes how Taehyung freely moves around the club and makes connections with others as deep as his smile. 

Jungkook thinks about all this as he glances at the woman next to him later that night, bare under the covers like he is, her body curled into a cocoon as she takes a break. 

She’d caught his eye earlier because she wasn’t trying to get his attention like the others were. She spoke less and screamed more, let him do what he wanted but touched him softly as she pleased.

“You’re a good lover. Why do you waste yourself with something temporary like me?” She’d asked. 

It left him speechless and he shrugged - a change from his usual dismissal - but there’s really nothing to say. 

Why does he? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to. 

But it’s at this moment that he tries to imagine what it would be like if it were the same face he saw next to him every morning, if it were the same hand he held everyday, if it were the same warm body he curled into every night. His mind wanders too far, into the depths of a place it can’t go to, beyond boundaries he can’t cross, and the sight is both terrifying and calming. 

It’s safer where he is.

So when she wakes up from a short nap, she looks up at him, her soft eyes wishing for something she knows she shouldn’t.

“You should go,” he says, the softest he’s ever uttered the words. 

“Okay,” she whispers in submission. 

She gets up from the bed, finds her stray clothes on the floor, and puts them on. Jungkook follows her to the door, a first for him. Maybe it’s her gentleness, or the unspoken understanding between them, or maybe because she doesn’t ask for more even if she seems to want to. 

But though he contemplates pulling her back to try to feel what that’s like - seeing her in the morning, holding her hand, curling into her embrace - he doesn’t. He knows even that desire would end; it’s fleeting just as everything around him is.  

He holds open the door. She turns around with a smile.

“I hope someday you find someone you’ll ask to stay,” she says, surprising him again. “I’m sure they would.”

You walk around the store in awe of the luscious plants displayed on the shelves, your eyes as bright as the lights that shine over them. There are so many to choose from, and though you have an idea of what you want to have, it’s tough deciding which ones to get right now. The money tree is a must, so is the Chinese evergreen. But do you go for the orchid or the peace lily? Can you keep up with a spider plant? How many of the asparagus ferns should you get?

Your eyes flit from one plant to the next, eventually deciding on getting everything on your list then placing them on the cart for payment. 

Jimin chuckles next to you. “Since when were you a plant mom?”

“Since she got that aloe vera from Yoongi and she was convinced that she has a green thumb after it didn’t die,” Soomin deadpans next to you as you frown at her sarcasm. “That’s also after my weekly reminders to water the plant because ‘no care’ doesn’t actually mean it’s going to survive on its own.”

“Oh, shush,” you scoff at her. “You told me I was doing a good job.”

“You’d send a photo every few days, hun,” she laughs. “What else was I supposed to say?”

“True. I needed the encouragement,” you shrug, paying for your haul. “But also, I’m a plant newbie. Yoongi said that I probably need some of them at home and in the office for positive energy and he’s not wrong. All the frustration from months ago just accumulated in my apartment and I need a change.”

“So… Is Yoongi a plant dad, too?” Soomin wonders.

“No. He just knows about a lot of things,” you reply. “Plus, he’s an architect and a designer. He knows a thing or two about plant decor.”

“Why isn’t he here with you, then?” She arches an eyebrow.

“Because I’m with both of you, duh,” you roll your eyes. “And before you say anything more, I don’t really like mixing my work friends with my personal friends. It’s different.”

“Well, I’m glad we could join you on this new phase of your life,” Jimin tries to be encouraging. “It’s like turning over a new leaf.”

You scold him over his terrible pun but laugh anyway, enjoying the comfort and playfulness that only your best friends could bring. They picked you up from work last Friday then you all headed to a club after dinner. You spent yesterday at a beach at their insistence then stayed in during the evening. It’s now Sunday and you’re dragging them around as you run errands before saying goodbye to them again, and it’s not a normal day without Soomin mentioning Yoongi. Perhaps it’s because of all the guys you’ve mentioned that have taken interest in you, he’s the only true green flag; he’s also the only one you didn’t entertain at all. You suppose that’s something she’ll not really get over. 

The three of you head to a nearby cafe. Jimin excitedly talks about the latest menu item in their chain of restaurants while Soomin groans about the stuff she has to deal with as she manages her family-owned shipping company that’s the biggest in the port city of Busan. They turn to you and ask how the rest of your week is going to go, with slightly surprised looks when you don’t talk about work with as much disdain as you used to. There’s excitement, even, something that Soomin points out, and when you mention that Jungkook is on an overseas trip, she assumes that’s the reason why.

“Not really,” you clarify. “He arrives tomorrow evening, but the week’s packed - we’re visiting the Arts Center for inspection and then I’m doing an ocular with Chin-sun for the VP events we’re holding in the next few months. I mean, I won’t be buried in files nor will I be in meetings all week. So yeah, it’s not bad.”

“That’s good,” Jimin beams. “At least it’s nothing like how it used to be. Right?”

“It’s a lot better, I told you guys,” you say, reminding them of a similar talk you had the last time they were here, which was a week after you’d gotten sick. “Jungkook is… rational, less grumpy and impulsive; he also listens to me and trusts me. He’s even smiled a few times.”

“Wow, he really set the bar low for you, huh,” Jimin chuckles, earning him a nod.

“Does that also mean that he’s now completely bearable and no longer your type because he’s not an asshole anymore?” Soomin chimes in, being the blunt and bold one among the three of you.

“He never was my type in the first place,” you scowl. “Plus, he’s literally my boss, Soo. That’s like, not some flag, it’s a whole ass brick wall that shall not be crossed.”

“Right. That’s why Mr. Min didn’t make the cut,” she points out. “Told you you should’ve just quit your job so you could date him.”

“And I also told you that wasn’t the only reason why I didn’t want to,” you remind her. “Yoongi’s exactly the type of person I need in my life, and being more than friends is the surefire way of making sure that doesn’t happen. Like, why would I risk a good friendship for something that may not work out? Whether I break his heart or he breaks mine, it’s pain I can’t handle. There’s just no going back from there.”

“Right, that is your biggest fear,” Soomin replies softly, the sympathetic tone in her voice telling you that she does understand where you’re coming from. “I mean, it’s still possible that you wouldn’t hurt each other but I get it. It just sucks, I guess. The good ones often start as your friends.”

“I know. And I’d rather have them and be single than none at all,” you sigh. 

The thought is simpler than it seems. You won’t deny that you’ve thought of how things would’ve been if you gave Yoongi a chance, but the fear of what you’d lose always trumped that type of possibility. 

There’s a kind of pain you don’t want to experience, one of a broken heart caused by losing someone you’ve given your all to. It’s how you think you love, after all; you can’t give any less. But it’s also why you’ve never done it. No one’s inspired that kind of devotion for you. 

Soomin has pointed out before that it’s probably also because you don’t open yourself up to the possibilities as you should. Maybe you’ve just been too focused on other things. But maybe you also just haven’t felt the kind of all-consuming desire for someone who would be worth it, one you’d want so much that you’d willingly face the fear of paralyzing heartbreak just to be with them. 

You suppose that’s the difference. That’s the irony, too. You’re scared to love because you’re scared of the pain, so you keep your distance to keep yourself safe but it’s also why you haven’t found someone you’re willing to crawl out of your walls for.  

There’s not much you feel passionate about in life. Maybe it’s love. But you’re too cautious to feel it, to look for it, so you don’t really know. Maybe it’s something else completely, and working in the environment that you do hinders you from discovering it. You’ve kept your distance from a lot of things over the past years and the thought that one day, you’ll be able to feel free from all the burden you carry because of a past you couldn’t control, makes you look forward to the day when you get to walk away from all those and hopefully, find whatever it is you’re looking for. 

Jimin nudges you after you zone out, and you switch the subject and ask about the latest gossip in their hometown. You enjoy living vicariously through their social life back in Busan. They not only come out here to Seoul to see you but also to take a break from all the drama that they can’t really escape from, given the type of people in their circle of friends. You always thank the heavens you got lucky that at 10 years old and making a new life in a new city, you found Soomin and Jimin, perhaps the only other people aside from your mother who make you feel safe and protected, a feeling you don’t take for granted. 

They indulge you and share some stories, but when Soomin goes through her social media feed to show you something, she gasps instead when she realizes that the men in her friend’s Instagram post include Jungkook.

“Did your boss just go there to party?” She asks, showing you the photo.

“Partly,” you reply. “His best friend hosted the launch of his alcohol line there but there are a couple more parties because it’s his birthday weekend. Your friends went?”

“Yeah, some of them are Kim Seokjin’s friends, apparently,” Soomin says. “Small world. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Seoul and Busan socialites attract each other.”

“Why aren’t you there, then?” You chuckle. 

“We’re choosy socialites,” Jimin clarifies. “Or like, pretentious. We just act like we are but we really aren’t, just to say that the Park and Cheon kids are interesting and sociable like the rest of them.”

“Who says they’re interesting and sociable?” Soomin states incredulously. “My eyes roll to the back of my head every time I’m in those shitty events. The lack of self-awareness of rich people repulses me. And I obviously don’t count us in.”

“And you shouldn’t,” you confirm. “I attract good people, I guess. I’m glad you’re not like them.”

“Well, what about Jungkook’s friends?” Jimin asks. “How are they like?”

“What I can say about the Kim brothers is that they’re nice people,” you say. “Very charming, ridiculously good-looking... And they sound like good friends, too. I can’t say much else. Their dating game is pretty strong though.”

“I’d assume. I mean, when you look like that, how could you not be?” Soomin states. “I mean, even Jungkook’s on point. That’s some hot girl he’s got.”

She shows you a couple of Instagram stories from her friends posting about the launch party. It turns out, there were a lot of Korea-based personalities who were invited. You spot Jungkook immediately, wearing the all-white ensemble that you packed for him the other day. His hair is a bit curled and the knitted top underneath the simple coat highlights his taut physique. There’s also that gorgeous woman around his arms, and if what you know about him is enough, you’d guess she’s probably one of those he seeks for a good time. 

The sight of him loosening up a bit and enjoying himself is something you appreciate. He’s always stressed when he’s here and you’re glad he could spend a few days partying elsewhere without having to think about work, especially during the week of his birthday. You don’t know how much of this aspect of his life he enjoys, but he does seem a bit free yet still somehow detached. You suppose that’s something he’ll always be - a man trying to live his life while separating himself from the meaning of it. You’re unsure of how he does it but perhaps it’s not that different from how you are, too. 

After lunch, Soomin and Jimin do a few more of your errands with you before dropping you home and then heading back to theirs. You spend the rest of the evening arranging your plants in your tiny apartment and feeling like more life is breathed into it with every one of them finding their home in a corner or on a shelf. Oddly enough, you feel a bit less lonely. That’s how you think you’ve been doing things, after all - finding substitutes for the kind of company you’re yearning for, for the kind of relationship you’re so afraid to have.

Jungkook wakes up that Monday morning feeling a lot better than he did the days before. For one, there’s no ringing in his head nor the feeling of dehydration. Bare under his soft covers, there also aren’t any fresh marks on his chest that signify the kind of night he usually has. In fact, he remembers most of it - he stayed by the bar and briefly chatted with the women who’d approached him. 

Suzy was there last night, too, the only one he’s hooked up with more than once, and probably the only one he’s had proper conversations with, given that she’s a landscape designer. She’s been away on business trips and had just gone back, her bluntness about going back to his apartment that she’s too familiar with being met with a rejection that she didn't take personally. 

“Has Seoul changed you?” She asked, her eyebrow arched in anticipation of his reply.

“Do you think a place would do that to me?” He laughed.

“No, but a person would,” she shrugged. 

“None of that,” he shook his head. “There’s no one. I’m too busy, too tired.”

“But not too lonely?” she asked. “It’s the only reason why you would call me.”

There was no bitterness in her words but still, he asked. “And why did you always come, then?”

“To see if each time would be good enough for you to not make me leave.” 

The conversation took a turn that he didn’t expect, the usual honesty in her words being too honest for him. He fumbled for something to say but she shook him off, claiming that she knew what she was getting into every time he took her home and that constantly hoping for something doesn’t guarantee that she’d get it one day. 

He drank a couple of glasses of whiskey after she left but managed to call his butler for a sandwich and lemon ginger tea in time for his arrival at his penthouse. The meal did the trick, as he’d slept soundly after a warm bath without a splitting headache and regrets the next day. 

It’s Monday, after all, and it’s back to work as usual. He has a few meetings to attend before flying back to Seoul, one of which is with the team. He gathers the energy to get off the bed for a half-hour exercise before getting ready. He eats the breakfast that the butler orders for him then heads to the office where he briefly meets with Lucas. 

Settled on his desk, he proceeds to virtually meet with the team, who all promptly greet him from the conference room. He asks how their weekend was, with most of them looking surprised because he rarely asks them about it, but they answer anyway. That’s when he notices that you’re not around, prompting him to look for you.

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you answer off camera before appearing on screen with a candle-lit cake in your hands.

He’s surprised when the team sings him a happy birthday, your eyes fixed on him as you mouth the words with a soft smile on your face. Do-hyun giggles at his silence, saying that he probably forgot it was his birthday or he maybe didn’t expect that they’d prepare something for him. 

“We like you now, Mr. Jeon,” she teases, earning him a nudge from Chin-sun but she doesn’t seem to mind and neither does he. 

It’s what makes him laugh, hoping that the pink on his cheeks aren’t visible on screen. He hadn’t expected this. He also knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he’d bet that you had everything to do with this.

“You’ve probably been too busy to celebrate but we haven’t forgotten. More like, Ms. Cho made sure we remembered,” Manager Lee chuckles. “We hope you enjoy this little something we prepared.”

“It’s an ice cream cake so it’ll just be in your refrigerator and you can have some when you return,” you say. 

“Thank you,” he finally manages to say. “You didn’t have to but I appreciate it. I’m looking forward to having some when I get back. Ms. Cho should also buy another one big enough for the team to share.”

You nod in acknowledgment of his instruction before starting with the meeting. There’s a lot to talk about, given the Arts Center construction and activities, as well as the upcoming year-end events that they have to organize and coordinate. It goes on for over two hours and it ends with your gentle smile after he says goodbye.  

The rest of the day feels too long for Jungkook, especially during the late afternoon flight and eventual ride home. He stares at the photo you sent of the cake, making sure he sees the greeting on it. 

“Get home safely, Mr. Jeon,” you text him after he says thanks. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With the reminders of the impermanence of things and people this weekend, Jungkook finds comfort in the stability that you provide. It’s in your smile, in your reminders and organization of his life, in your thoughtfulness and patience. It’s in the assurance that tomorrow is another day, one in which he gets to see you once again.

The cake is simple but sophisticated. The mint chocolate flavor is exactly how he likes it and in ice cream cake form, it’s really delicious. He’s glad he gets to have this all for himself, as the team was able to enjoy one yesterday as per his instruction, and you’d sent a group photo of everyone enjoying it to him, the small smile that formed on his face no longer surprising him. 

For one, the comfort is there. He’s seen just how much better the team is working together because of it - they’re more open to giving him feedback and receiving his, any moment of frustration is easily mended with laughter, and his encouragement and affirmation have been motivating them as well. In the midst of it is you who makes sure that communication flows smoothly and that everything is on track, acting as the glue that keeps everyone together. 

He sees firsthand just how good you are at handling things, and how despite all the stress, you manage to get him seaweed soup and a cake for his birthday. It’s more than just the details regarding work that you’re on top of; it’s also details about his life, and how he’s responding to it tells him that maybe, whatever change there is like what Suzy observed, a big part of it is because of you.

“I’m glad you like it, Mr. Jeon,” your voice cuts through his thoughts. 

He looks up and sees you with a portfolio in hand, motioning towards the cake that’s now one fourth eaten.

“Ah, yeah,” he says, not denying it. “I feel like I haven’t had sweets in a while. Where did you buy this?”

“Oh, uh, I asked the baker who made desserts for the Arts Center event if she could make a customized ice cream cake,” you explain. “Fortunately she could. And thankfully it’s delicious. She enjoyed working with us so she gave us a discount.”

“You… had this made for me?”

He’d expected it to be store-bought, but learning you made the effort to reach out to someone reminds him once more of your thoughtfulness, of your care.

“Yes, I, uh, I just assumed you’d receive a few and I thought to give you something a little different.”

“It’s the only one I got actually,” he says, catching you off guard. Your face falls a little so he follows it up. “Like I told you, I don’t celebrate my birthday so I don’t let people know about it. And the ones who do also know that I don’t make a big deal out of it so they don’t really give me anything.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling a little sad. 

You’re not one to have big celebrations but you do have a bit of it. For your 30th birthday at the start of the year, Jimin and Soomin threw you a little party in your humble home in Daegu where they performed some of your favorite songs and enacted your favorite drama scenes to make you happy. There was no need for anything fancy - just your loved ones and your mom’s and Min-woo’s amazing cooking. 

But even before that milestone, your friends always made sure to at least get you seaweed soup and a birthday cake; they want you to remember that there are lives impacted because you were born. You can’t really say that Jungkook’s impacted your life the same way but you still value his existence; a small cake is just a little something to celebrate that. But the idea that his family and friends pass up on the cake - and perhaps the gifts, too - makes you think that there’s really not much in Jungkook’s life he feels he could share with others, that there’s not much he could give and receive in return. 

“I hope I didn’t cross a line if it’s something you don’t like people knowing,” you continue. “I just thought… it would be nice to receive something from us.”

“It actually was,” he admits, his voice soft and low. Turning away, he says, “it’s been a while since I actually thought about my birthday as anything other than ordinary. It’s nice to be reminded sometimes. So thank you, Ms. Cho. For the soup, too. I appreciate it.”

Perhaps it’s his honesty that does it, but you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. If learning how to express gratitude is something you could teach him, you already feel accomplished. 

It’s the next day when you find yourself back in Jungkook’s office, staring at the potted plant in your hands. You’ve gone from debating on whether to leave it on his desk or the coffee table, to even giving it at all. You won’t lie and say you didn’t know what you were thinking when you passed by the plant store after work last night to get this specifically for him. You did - you wanted him to feel that joy of receiving a gift, which you suppose doesn’t happen, especially for someone who can literally buy anything he wants. 

But still, it doesn’t mean that your good intention will be received well. You’ve given Hoseok a small gift every year for his birthday, partly because he likes receiving them and also because it’s your way of saying thanks. 

You want to give this to Jungkook as a form of gratitude, too. Despite how you both started, the amount of things you’ve learned from him and continue to have somehow made up for it, and you also know that he’s learning from you as well. He’s given you agency to make decisions. He’s also given you events and small projects to manage, making you realize it’s what you really enjoy doing. Seeing things come together the way you envisioned it is so satisfying. Perhaps without intending it, Jungkook’s showed you a way out, a path that you want to explore so much that you’re willing to let go of all that you know in this company for something new, for something that feels more like you. 

Your thoughts have completely digressed and with the time you took debating and reflecting, you hadn’t heard his footsteps, and so you jerk a little when he calls out your name.

Turning around, you bow in greeting, remembering at the same time that you have something that you’re not 100% sure yet you want to give right now. But as always, he calls you out on it. 

“Is that a snake plant?” He asks, walking towards his seat.

“Yes.”

“Is that the one on your desk?”

“Uh, no, actually,” you laugh dryly, knowing you can’t turn back from it now. “I… I meant to give it to you, sir. I just thought that, uh, the money tree on the shelf might be too lonely so I got you a desk plant. I heard it’s good for positive energy and to filter the air.”

“It is,” he hums. “Is that why you got yourself one?”

“I suppose. I figured it could help improve my mood. Yoongi suggested it before but I just kept pushing it back. I finally got some for my apartment last weekend,” you explain, just so he knows it didn’t come out of nowhere. 

“And you think this will improve my mood?” He arches an eyebrow. 

“Maybe,” you shrug. “We’ll probably need a dozen of them here but we could start with one.”

He matches your soft laughter with his own, which you’re thankful for. He reaches out for the plant, nonchalant like you when your fingers brush against each other. 

“Hopefully this will work,” he says as he places the small, white pot next to his desktop. 

You leave him so he could prepare for a conference call while you’re set to meet with the marketing team. Jungkook gazes at the plant and notices the little note attached to the string around the stem. 

Happy birthday, it reads. 

This wasn’t just something to match the money tree that Hoseok left for him that he hasn’t been caring for much. This was a gift for him. You probably assume that if he doesn’t receive birthday cakes, he wouldn’t be receiving gifts, either. And you’d be right. His best friends just throw him parties. And once he left Seoul to obtain his MBA in Singapore and stayed to work in their Southeast Asian headquarters, the distance between him and his parents grew. They’d reach out but he didn’t bother much, so he’d stopped expecting anything. After he broke up with Chaerin, he stopped receiving anything at all. This is the first time he’s gotten something from someone after a long time. 

It’s simple in its meaning and honest in its intention, and he doesn’t hold back the smile that forms on his face.

You watch the realization dawn on Jungkook from outside. You’d remembered the silly note you left right as you sat down and didn’t have time to take it back, which really wasn’t much, but you suppose it’s enough to tell him that the plant indeed is a gift. You don’t know if someone like him even receives them, or would even appreciate something so cheap and humble, but the gentle smile he has on tells you that he probably doesn’t get much, but that this is something he welcomes. 

Your smile follows soon after but it feels different this time. There’s pride somehow that your little gift could elicit something so rare out of him. There’s also a bit of awe; this is the softest he’s ever looked, with that tinge of gratitude and yearning, a complete contrast to what you know of him, to how you’ve always seen him. It’s… it’s actually beautiful. 

And this is when things start to get confusing, especially as your phone beeps with that SMS from him.

[From: The Boss] Thank you, ___.

It’s the non-work message. It’s the use of your name. This is personal for him and you acknowledge that it’s the same for you. Perhaps there’s a reason why you made the effort to get the gift last night, why it mattered to you that he received something to celebrate his birthday, and why seeing him appreciate it the way he does is making you giddy and satisfied at the same time. 

Maybe it’s the care you’re starting to feel for him that’s beyond just wanting to make your job bearable. You’ll dissect what that truly means later on, but right now it’s just you, him, and the glass wall in between the both of you. There’s distance, there’s a boundary, but there’s a transparent barrier that allows you to see what’s on the other side, one which allows you to know who he is behind the man you’ve come to know. And you admit, he’s not so bad after all.

The construction of the Arts Center is going better than expected. Given some of the delays due to the wrong materials delivered and some permits that took a while to get, the workers were able to make up some ground, largely due to Jungkook’s supervision. When you both visited a few weeks ago, there were many things to work on, and he managed to identify the priorities and find ways to get the project back on track. 

It was during those few days of constantly being on site that you saw how efficient and effective he really works. You admired his precision and attention to detail, how he instructed the team leads and project managers and laborers, how he put together the design of one of the rooms just as he’d envisioned it. 

He was commanding and decisive, and you appreciated his thorough and simple explanations that allowed you to keep up with him. He’s said that he wants you to understand what’s happening so that you’re well-informed should you need to communicate to others on his behalf, and what initially intimidated you turned into something you became interested in. Since then, you’ve been watching design shows to help you further. The challenge was welcomed, and now you feel like everyday, you’re learning something new on the job. 

His instructions from that time were followed, and you’re back today to inspect the rest of the spaces. Everything is so massive, and with one half of the wall of the performance hall already done, you can clearly see the upgrade. The details are impressive, and the way that the traditional designs merge with modern elements is a feature itself. 

You’re immersed in the intricacies of the ceiling, walking towards the wall to get a closer look that you don’t immediately notice the workers walking past you with a massive slab of marble. The moment that you do, you step back too quickly, tripping on your heels, and just as you brace yourself to hit the ground, you instead feel your back against a firm chest, with hands on your elbows breaking your fall.

You sigh in relief, even leaning your head back because nothing could be more embarrassing than falling on your ass in front of many people, including your boss. That is, until the familiar scent of jasmine and bergamot wafts through your nose and you realize that what you just did is debatably more embarrassing than what could’ve happened. 

The familiar clearing of the throat is what finally does it for you, and with wide eyes, you turn around and face him to apologize. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I—”

“Was so much in awe that you didn’t notice the workers passing by,” he finishes, his slightly teasing smile calming you down.

“Ah, well of course. The details are too pretty,” you reason, stepping back only a little. You look at him shyly. “But thank you. I was about to fall.”

“I know. And I was about to lose it if my assistant got injured on the job.”

“True. It’s bad publicity, I guess,” you shrug. “And distractions could cause delays. And that’s bad, too.”

“Or you know, I simply just can’t have you injured, simple as that,” he says with a little frown on his face. 

“Imagine if I didn’t see them? They could’ve dropped the marble and I would’ve completely lost it!”

“Why?” He arches an eyebrow.

“That slab is like, two months’ worth of salary, Mr. Jeon.”

“It’s actually more but that’s not the point,” he fully frowns now. “If you didn’t see them, then they could’ve hit you, and then you would be whining in pain right now. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, ___.”

His voice is firm and low, and you nod in acknowledgment because you also know he’s right. The workers’ vision was limited but yours wasn’t; you were just too distracted and if you hadn’t pulled early enough, that marble really could’ve done damage to you. And if it wasn’t for Jungkook catching your fall, then something bad still would’ve happened to you.

“But are you okay? You didn’t twist your ankle or anything?” He asks.

“No. Uh, the heel’s just a bit loose but I’m fine,” you reply, still trying to wrap your head around how he’d said your name - informally, in this setting, as he told you that you could’ve gotten hurt. Maybe you weren’t imagining the worried tone of his voice earlier.

“Okay,” he sighs. “You have to be careful next time.”

“I will, sir,” you reply. 

You step aside and Jungkook sees you from his peripheral vision as he returns to assessing, staying put and only glancing at the ceiling unlike earlier. He’d seen you marvel at the design of the hall earlier, and while he was initially doing the same, seeing you wide-eyed and impressed caught his attention more. 

Many times, he’s seen you look dejected, frustrated, angry. He’s seen your moments of focus and joy, too, but this is the first time he’s seen you be in awe. There was this softness on your face that was still filled with emotion, and he’d been drawn to you enough to see that you were about to fall. He’s glad he has quick reflexes and was able to get to you in time, the worry he felt at the thought of you getting hurt in any way was quite overwhelming for him. And while it’s partly because you’re his responsibility in this case, he also knows it’s more than that. 

He gestures moving to another room and you follow him outside, and just as you try to stay close to him, Jungkook also makes sure you’re away from any kind of danger. He moves to your side when there are workers nearby with their heavy equipment and large materials. He shields you from the drilling. He glances at you as you both walk towards the other performance hall. And when you get there, you see the ceiling installation is ongoing, and Jungkook immediately calls for hard hats for the both of you. 

He hands you one and you put it on, fumbling with the strap underneath your chin. You groan in frustration when you’re unable to lock it, and that’s when you see him move towards you. 

“Let me,” he says.

You stop your movements and shyly nod in agreement, and he waits for you to let go before he fixes it himself. 

It’s a little odd being on the other side, since it’s always you who fixes his tie or his coat. But you’re the one watching him now, with his furrowed brows and seriousness in securing this safety gear on you making you feel warm inside.

He steps back then looks at you, trying hard to control his laughter.

“Are you laughing at me, sir?” You pout.

“No. I don’t make fun of people,” he says, turning serious now, but you don’t miss the grin on his face.

It’s unfair that he looks good even with a hard hat on.

One of the project managers calls him and he goes around, with you staying close by. This performance hall is bigger and boasts of a more traditional design, which would hold the cultural performances that the Culture Minister is very excited about. You watch Jungkook inspect the space with thoroughness, checking each wall panel and each seat. 

It’s amazing to you just how involved he is with this project even with the project managers handling things relatively well. He wants to be on top of everything, he’s said; it matters too much for him to not know what’s going on. 

You see Yoongi enter the room and approach him. Once he sees you, he laughs as well.

“Do I look that bad?” You groan. “Mr. Jeon was laughing at me, too.”

“It’s a little big, and I guess I’m just not used to seeing you in one,” Yoongi shrugs.

“Why don’t you have one?”

“I don’t need it. I’m here all the time and nothing happens.”

“Well, I’ve been here a few times and I almost fell earlier,” you say, recalling the almost-embarrassment.

“I know, I saw it,” he chuckles.

“You were there?!” You gasp.

“No, I was totally in the other room that’s why I witnessed you almost get hit by the marble then trip on yourself,” he deadpans. 

“I didn’t see you, that’s all,” you shrug. 

“I was by the doors. I checked these spaces yesterday and I just wanted to be around in case Jungkook had new instructions,” he explains. “But I gotta say, you guys were kinda cute earlier.”

“Almost falling on my ass isn’t cute, Min Yoongi,” you scowl. “I could’ve either ruined the marble slab or hurt my bum. Either way, it would’ve been embarrassing.”

“I didn’t mean just you. I meant you guys,” he gestures towards Jungkook. “He caught you, didn’t he?”

“Yes… That was embarrassing, too,” you frown. “What’s cute about that?”

“He looked worried. It’s just not something I’ve seen him be towards other people, that’s all.”

“It’s because an injured employee on site isn’t good, okay? Plus, if I’m incapable, then no one’s gonna be around to make his life easier,” you reason.

Yoongi stares at you for a while before shaking his head. “Wow, you really are dense.” 

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you cross your arms in frustration. 

“Forget about it,” Yoongi shakes his head, deciding not to push it. 

He’ll tell you another time that he’s glad you’re becoming more of yourself again, that the light has somehow come back, that there’s now comfort you exude around the man you’d once despised. Yoongi feels assured now that there’s someone else who seems to be looking out for you, and that it’s something you don’t seem to mind at all.

“Yah! You’re being all mysterious again!” You pout, something he chuckles about. 

“Me? Mysterious? Come on. I’ve always been an open book,” he teases. 

You’re just about to nag him again when you hear Jungkook clear his throat, and you turn towards him and ask if he’s already done inspecting.

“There are still a few things I want to run by my design lead before leaving,” Jungkook says. “Please move my meeting to 3PM.”

“That’s noted, sir. I’ll give Mr. Hong’s assistant a call.”

You excuse yourself and step outside, leaving both men alone.

“Angering my assistant, are you?” Jungkook asks Yoongi, the curious yet playful tone in his voice evident.

“Nah, just teasing. That a problem?” Yoongi answers back. 

“No. It’s good she has someone she’s comfortable with at work.”

“Could be you, you know? That isn’t so bad,” Yoongi remarks, surprising him. “And it doesn’t cross whatever boundary you’re trying so hard to stay behind.”

“We’re not… on that level. I mean, I don’t know how to be someone other people are comfortable being around,” Jungkook admits.

“I don’t know about that. Seems like you’re already that for her,” Yoongi says. “I was just teasing her about how you guys looked cute earlier, when you broke her fall.”

“You were there?”

“Both of you really don’t notice other people when it’s just both of you, huh,” Yoongi laughs. “But yeah, I was. I saw her relief. And I saw you worry.”

Jungkook merely shrugs, not wanting to confirm. Even if he denies it, Yoongi will still believe what he wants to believe. But the older man knows you well just as much as he knows him. 

“You care about her, don’t you?” Yoongi responds to the silence. “And I mean not in a superficial way, or a good boss caring for his employee type of way. Like, you worry when she’s sick or overworking, when she’s hurt or in danger. You want her to always be safe, to get rest. You like having her near. You wanna know that she’s happy.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Jungkook finally answers. “I can’t think of her that way.”

“I know. That’s why you were the way you were,” Yoongi says. “How else do you respond to things you can’t control than through anger and detachment? But just because you shouldn’t, it doesn’t change the fact that you do.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong,” Jungkook counters.

“Well, irrationally calling her out and being angry were wrong, too, and you did those because you weren’t being honest with yourself,” Yoongi argues. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, the least you can do is be true to yourself about how you feel. Because the more you deny, then the more you resist, and when you do that, you end up hurting her. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.”

“Then just… accept things - what you feel, what you both are, what you can or can’t be.”

Jungkook looks at his friend as if some epiphany had just transpired. It’s been difficult for him to make sense of what he feels around you. There’s always that air of familiarity, but the warmth and comfort are new. There’s the reality that you come from different worlds, but that you both somehow feel and experience and maybe desire the same things. There’s that sense of fear over change and of what he can’t control, yet you somehow provide the calm and stability that he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

It’s all these contradictions that have been messing with him, and Yoongi’s right - because of all the times that Jungkook had wanted to create that distance, all it did was hurt you. That’s the last thing he wants, he realizes now. He’s seen you struggle, and even if that’s just a fraction of what you normally go through, it’s enough to tell him that he doesn’t want you to experience that again, especially not because of him. It’s too early to say the extent of his care towards you, and it’s not something he’s willing or ready to explore right now. But just as Jungkook’s about to comfort himself that it’s fine, and that he shouldn’t dwell on it anyway so as not to further nurture it, Yoongi speaks again.

“Just… just a heads up, though,” he adds. “The care that I felt, that’s how it started for me.”

“What started?”

“Me, liking her.”

It’s at that moment when you come back from your call, and you inform Jungkook that the meeting’s been moved and that he has a scheduled one with some of the directors on Monday. 

“Alright,” he says, directing you and Yoongi towards the souvenir shop, temporarily disregarding what he was warned about.

“You two looked so serious. Everything okay?” You whisper to your friend. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi hums, giving you the most genuine smile he could give. 

There’s that sparkle and softness in your eyes that had captured him all those years ago. They dimmed throughout the years and they’ve just been sporadic, illuminating only during specific moments. He’d seen them again a lot more regularly, and even today, as you looked around the halls and admired the designs of the space. 

Yoongi doesn’t know if a certain person is the reason for that. He knows you enough that you wouldn’t even notice it, so you definitely wouldn’t know what caused the change. But as your friend, he hopes one day you will, so that if you’re brave enough, too, you’d try to make sure that the light stays. 

The inspection ends and you get back to the office at 4. You return to piles of documents you have to sift through and encode, and your original plan of leaving on time changes. 

Jungkook spends over an hour talking with Yoongi and the construction lead about the Arts Center, and once that’s over, you see just how exhausted he is. He’s massaging his temples and sighing deeply, and you know that whatever just transpired, he’s going to be thinking about it all throughout the weekend, which he doesn’t really have time for. The gala that one of the Board members throws annually is tomorrow night, an event you’ll be attending with him as well. 

You enter his room to remind him about it and to give some forms for his signature. He signs them off, and when you say you’ve got a few more requests that you’ll leave on his desk for Monday, he tells you to just wait until then.

“Go home, Ms. Cho,” he says. “It’s been a long week. And it won’t end until after tomorrow night.”

“What about you, Mr. Jeon?”

“I’ve got some stuff to sort through after inspection. I’ll probably leave in an hour or so.”

You frown, a mannerism of yours that he’s gotten used to seeing. It’s mixed with a pout that often makes him internally laugh because it seems unlike you. It also always means there’s something you want to say that you’re holding back.

“Should I not?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Hmm. Just thinking that it might be better for you to take a rest tonight, too,” you advise. “The gala could be quite draining and it would be good to save your energy for that.”

“I’ll think about it,” he hums.

“Then I’ll think about going home, too,” you answer back. 

Jungkook chuckles, knowing you’re always going to counter him in some way. And he’s glad that you do.

“You may go. And get a good rest, too.”

You nod and bid him goodbye, exiting the room to start packing your things. It’s five minutes later when the door opens and you see him with his bag, ready to head home as well.

You smile at his tender doe-eyes as he admits through them that you were right - he doesn’t have a reason to stay behind, so he’ll call it a night and get as much rest as he can. 

He pauses by the entryway, and you pick up that he’s waiting for you, perhaps to make sure that you’re indeed going home. You quicken your pace and walk next to him, steps in pace as you both go to the elevator and down to the lobby. 

“Mr. Ri can bring you home after me,” Jungkook says. “It’s late already.”

“Not late enough,” you reply. “I’m okay, Mr. Jeon. It’s not necessary.”

He concedes, and you wait for the car to arrive and say goodbye to him again. 

There’s a softness on his face as he lingers before he enters. A small smile forms, and it’s what you see until you fall asleep that night. It’s the same one that’s oddly been giving you comfort lately - it’s a little restrained but somehow it still looks vulnerable. Perhaps it represents how Jungkook’s been to you - there are some contradictions, but beyond all that, there’s care.

Mr. Ri happily greets you as you enter the car that late Saturday afternoon to head to Jungkook’s penthouse. He compliments your dress, saying it’s nice to see you in something formal that fits your style - it’s simple yet elegant, and you tell him that your mother wouldn’t stop gushing over you through the screen, nagging you to send full-body photos so she could appreciate you more.

Jimin and Soomin surprised you in the morning to help you fix up, insisting that they wanted to make sure you spoiled yourself for the event. If you wouldn’t, they would, so they treated you to the hair salon and had your nails done. They’re the ones who took so many photos like some formal dance, and Jimin commented that the only downside was that they were sending you off to pick up Jungkook. 

Defending your boss the way you did surprised you a little; it surprised them a lot more. You’d said that he bought you the dress, that he’s been nothing but kind, and that whatever negative feelings you had towards him are all in the past. Your friends understood, deciding not to ruin your night and then letting you go so they could eat out and meet you back at your apartment once you’re done. 

You chat with Mr. Ri about how things have been at work, your friends, and your family. You also talk about the gala and how it feels a little nerve-racking attending this time, given your experience with Jungkook. 

It’s a grand event that the company’s executives attend, and guests are asked to refrain from going solo. For such requests, it’s not unusual for them to bring their assistants. You’re expected to attend anyway, and assistants usually partner up with each other and it always worked. You went with Hoseok last year because A-yeong had a work event, and while you expected that Jungkook wouldn’t care for such request and maintain that he’d go by himself, you also didn’t think that CEO Jeon would insist that his son take you as his date so he wouldn’t be alone. 

The elder Jeon had reasoned that business discussions usually take place during the gala, and it would be good for you to be around and be familiar with the new people on the scene. Hoseok had said that they’re expected to stay through the whole thing, and it’s much better for his cousin to have a companion so he could survive the night. That was months ago when things were still a little shaky for you both. You still remember Jungkook’s displeased look when it seemed like he had no choice in the matter, especially since he probably thought that his father just wanted to make sure he’d act accordingly. It feels like a lifetime ago, really, as you think about his soft smile from last night. 

You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, why his gestures or mannerisms suddenly mean something to you, or why there’s excitement when you think about seeing him outside of work. You’re unsure why the curve of his lips when he grins or the deep huff that follows his laugh makes you a little giddy, or why his eyes lingering on you makes your heart beat a little faster than usual.  

Just like right now, as they gaze at you while you seemingly do the same. 

“You look, uh—” he starts, unable to find the accurate but appropriate term to describe how you look. 

“Nice?” You finish, recalling the term he’d used when you tried this gown for the first time. 

“Something like that,” he chuckles, earning him a giggle from you.

He playfully shakes his head, perhaps knowing that you’re used to him not making grand compliments or anything. But he does smile after, and there goes that blissful feeling again. 

Maybe it’s because for the first time, you’re being appreciated. Maybe just like how it’s been recently, he likes being around you, prefers it, even. And given how you felt so unwanted during his first few weeks here, this is a blessing, as if in his appreciation of you, you’re liking yourself as well.

“Well, in my opinion, you look quite dashing, Mr. Jeon,” you say bravely. “Except your waistcoat seems to be uneven.”

“Exactly what I thought,” he sighs. “I can’t quite align it properly.”

And as you always do, you approach him, your hands immediately going towards his shoulders to flatten the vest, then his sides to pull it down. You adjust it a little bit more then fix his collar after, and suddenly this feels so natural - being close to him, taking in his scent, and smiling as he glances at you. 

“Do you need help with your coat?” You ask once you finish.  

He nods and you follow him to his walk-in closet where you take the last piece of clothing and assist him in wearing it. He adjusts the lapels while you assess if all wrinkles have been flattened. You watch him look at himself in the mirror and you can’t help but admire him as well. He exudes confidence, which you can say now is strikingly different from the Appointment Dinner where he still looked a bit unsure. But now, he commands respect. The deep black color of his striped three-piece ensemble with his slick hair parted in the middle makes him even more handsome, and you manage to hold in the gasp you were about to release as he faces you for a final look.

“All good?” He asks. 

“All good,” you smile, turning around and walking back to the living room. 

He follows, and he takes this time to bask in your beauty before he has to act like it doesn’t affect him again.

There’s a reason why he was rendered speechless the first time he saw you in this gown at the tailor shop, so much so that he had to step out to get some air. You look even more stunning now, with your classic but natural-looking makeup and your styled hair. You exude a certain kind of glow that sucks him in, that makes his heart race yet soothes him just the same. 

It’s a little dangerous for him, given that he’ll be spending this entire evening with you as his date, looking the way you do while he has to act disinterested, as if his attraction isn’t slapping him in the face and his internal alarm bells aren’t ringing.

But he has to act professional. He has to stay behind the lines even if his mind is yelling all the words about your beauty that he has to ignore. So he gives himself this short moment where he gets to admire you, and when you make it to the elevator and become confined in a small space, he holds his breath as you smile at him shyly, hoping that he doesn’t give himself away. 

He’ll get himself together, he orders to himself, and he’ll make sure he doesn’t scare you off. 

You make it to the lobby and enter the car. The drive to the venue is quiet at the beginning. It’s technically not a work day so there’s no reason to discuss work. You and Jungkook may have started talking about non-work matters but it doesn’t mean you readily talk about actual personal things. They’re occasional, as it’s not something he seems to do much and you’re often guarded about yours. It took a while for you to open up to Yoongi and even then, there are many things he doesn’t know. You’re comfortable around him, there’s no denying that, but there are still parts of you that you don’t like to share with others, and you suppose that Jungkook is the same.

But still, you ask how his evening was and how his day went, expecting he’d give a basic answer.

“I just stayed home last night and watched soccer over drinks,” he says. “Then I did my workout and went for a swim this morning. I did a bit of work in the afternoon and then got ready.”

“Ah, no party last night and then recovering from it in the morning?” You tease, knowing that’s a usual occurrence for him. Lucas did mention about the Singapore trip and how he’d taken home a passed out Jungkook on the night of his birthday. 

“Well, there was a party,” he responds. “There always is, but I passed up on it. I didn’t want to feel out of sorts tonight. There’ll be a lot of new faces and I don’t wanna mess up.”

“Oh, you won’t. You’ve been doing really well, Mr. Jeon. And that’s me being honest.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” He arches an eyebrow. “Would you tell me otherwise?” 

“Well, the me of now, would. The me of a few months ago would want to but wouldn’t.” 

Jungkook dwells on your answer. “Hmm. What changed, then?”

“I got used to you.” 

He meets your gaze and somehow it feels too long. You don’t really know what prompted you to say it but you felt a little bold, a little too honest.

“In what sense?” he wonders, turning away now.

“I’d say I got used to the mood swings but then again, they haven’t been intense compared to those first few weeks,” you admit. “But surprisingly, it’s the calmness I’ve become accustomed to. And the seriousness and occasional zoning out, but also, the…”

Care, you want to say. Or the thoughtfulness. 

“Consideration,” you say instead. 

Jungkook’s throat dries up as he finds the words to say. He’s now afraid to look at you because he might give in and say something he’ll regret. He’s been praised before for his work and his designs, but he supposes that no one’s really complimented him for something he does for other people, specifically for you. Maybe that’s why he thinks he doesn’t deserve it; he’s unsure if he’s really considerate by nature or if he just is towards you. It’s why he brushes it off, insisting he just has his moments.

“But those moments could mean a lot to the one it’s shared with or directed to,” you counter. “Even if it was just once. Or even if it was so trivial that you probably forgot already. But the other person doesn’t. Or they would, but something about that moment stays.”

Jungkook thinks about the moments you’d shown him consideration. Or even care or thoughtfulness, but he wouldn’t word it that way to you. There are the big ones - when you showed your support of the Arts Center to his father, when you calmed him down during that first Board meeting, when you gave him the noodles when he was sick, when you stayed with him during his interview with the magazine publications.

When you stood up to him. When you didn’t quit after that first week.

There are also the small moments - the ginger and lemon tea on Monday mornings when he looks like he’d drank too much the night before, the biscuits you serve with his coffee, the affirming looks during team meetings, the comforting smiles from outside his office when he’s stressed. 

There’s a lot of those you show him, and he realizes now that he remembers each one. 

The silence returns soon after, as you both seem to prefer basking in the soft music that Mr. Ri plays. 

It’s 15 minutes later when you arrive at the venue. You get out of the car and meet Jungkook by his door, surprised when he offers his arm that you take. 

“This is how they do it, right?” He looks at you questioningly.

“Yes,” you chuckle. “It’s a little over-the-top but the hosts treat this like it’s some red carpet event and I just follow what the others do. Bitna says it’s the one time we could feel like proper ladies or something, whatever that means.”

“Hmm, makes sense. I guess I’ll be a proper gentleman, then. Whatever that means.” 

You hold onto him lightly as you both make your way inside. You try to disregard the firmness of his arm and the way it feels under your touch, so you gently let go not long after and clutch onto your purse instead, not wanting to give off the idea that you’re anything more than each other’s dates. You greet the guests and establish your position to those who are unaware in an effort to show that this social event is a work function as well. 

Jungkook talks about the Arts Center when he can, and you mentally take note of certain projects, sites, events, artists, and patrons that are mentioned, quickly typing them on your phone for future reference. He talks to you about them in between flutes of champagne and canapes that are some of the most delicious you’ve ever had.

Jungkook laughs as you down another brie and cranberry bruschetta.

“What? I like fancy food,” you pout.

“Yes, your normal people’s taste buds like fancy food,” he teases. 

It’s a statement you make often and you smile that he now uses it against you.

Your moments of casual ignorance of what’s going on around you are ones you find yourself enjoying too much. You internally sigh every time a guest approaches him, and even more so when you find yourself with a few others and someone stands a little too close, or has his hand linger on your elbow, or whispers something in your ear as if you’re at a bar and the music is too loud, which it isn’t, so there’s really no reason for this son of some business tycoon to be asking you to head outside “to talk.”

“Don’t you have a date?” You ask after he insists. 

“Yeah, some girl,” he shrugs. “She’s kinda boring. Lucky I found you.”

You awkwardly smile, knowing it’s not your place to reject him and make a scene. He looks to be the type who always gets his way and if he doesn’t this time, you’re afraid of how he might take it. 

You don’t budge and call for another flute of champagne instead, finishing it in one gulp that has the man releasing a deep breath in front of you.

“So you’ve been working for the Jeon’s for 8 years, you say?” He speaks again.

You nod, looking around to avoid his eyes.

“That’s quite a long time, yeah? I’m sure I can get you a spot at my company,” he brags. “I mean, we sell luxury cars. That’s way more interesting than buildings and shit.”

“I don’t drive,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I don’t know how to.”

“Perfect. I can teach you then,” he smirks. 

It’s the look that heightens your level of discomfort, and just as you’re about to make some excuse and run away, Jungkook calls your name that has you immediately turning towards him.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

He’s not too far away; he comes closer yet still maintains a bit of a distance. 

“Hoseok’s asking for me but I want to speak to Mr. Saito before he leaves. Can you go to my cousin on my behalf?”

“Of course,” you say, excusing yourself and scurrying away from the scene, sighing in relief at the sight of a familiar pair of faces.

A-yeong gives you a hug and you return it, then you turn to Hoseok and ask what he needs Jungkook for.

“Nothing,” he says. “I didn’t call for him.”

“Oh, okay. Well, he said you did.”

“I haven’t spoken to him since we got here,” Hoseok replies. “You know how this gala goes. So many people to meet. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just… uh. Well, I just met Mr. Kwon’s son. And let’s just say, I don’t want that to happen again.”

“Oh, ___,” A-yeong sighs, knowing exactly what you mean. “Just stay with us. Or don’t leave Jungkook’s side.” Turning towards the man who’d just arrived, she adds, “stay close to her, okay?”

Jungkook looks at you, his eyes asking a question that you know the answer to but neither of you says anything. 

“I will,” he nods. 

Both of you stay where you are for a while before heading back to your seats for the sit-down dinner. You converse with those at your table, thankful that they’re all decent and entertaining. After that, Jungkook doesn’t leave your side. It almost seems like he’s your date rather than the other way around, but you appreciate his presence, especially when he calls your attention once you start looking uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I just… I just get a little uneasy when people I don’t know get too close.”

“I understand. I’m the same,” he says, prompting you to look at him. “But I just feel uncomfortable, not unsafe. There’s a difference. And it’s not okay if that’s how they make you feel.”

He knew without you saying the words. It takes you back to that night at the restaurant with Hajoon and how Jungkook had looked the most guilty he’d ever been when you said that his staring made you feel uncomfortable. You supposed then that it was mostly because he thought he was causing a rift between you and Hajoon but you realize now that it was more than that. For all that Jungkook is, you’ve come to see that there are things he can’t stand himself doing; deliberately making you feel unsafe is definitely one of them. Perhaps it’s why at this moment, you feel the exact opposite being around him. 

And that’s how the rest of the night goes. He stays close but when he’s caught up in a conversation he can’t get out of, he gives you that look to remind you that it’s okay to step away, that you have the ability to remove yourself from a situation you don’t feel good being in. And you do, and the worry you used to have about being a mere assistant fades away. You never thought that one Jeon Jungkook would give you the permission to do that.

You’re seated on a chair some time later, the hours of walking in your high heels taking its toll on you. You wave to Hoseok and A-yeong, no longer having the energy to walk up to them for a proper goodbye. You sigh to yourself, feeling the tiredness slowly overtake you. It was still a good night, but it took a lot of energy from you, too. 

“Hey,” you hear Jungkook call out. 

You turn to him, still looking handsome as he stands nearby, his hands in his pockets as he mirrors your exhaustion.

“Ready to head home?” He asks.

“Yes,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh. 

You stand up, limping only a tiny bit, but you think Jungkook notices, as he offers his arm just like he did at the start of the night.

“This is what a proper gentleman does, right?” He asks. 

“I suppose. Although I might say, Mr. Jeon, that’s what you were the entire time. So thank you.”

Jungkook nods in response, unsure how to receive your gratitude. He knows what you mean, as the first sign of your discomfort had him looking at you constantly. He was worried all night but he supposes there’s no reason to feel that way now, as your faint smile just signifies that you’re tired more than anything. 

For the short moment it takes for you to walk closer to him, he basks in your beauty once more. The night will be over soon, and he’s glad he could give you some reprieve this time. He tries not to lose it when you tighten your grip on his arm for support though, but that’s something he can think about later on. 

The walk to the car isn’t that long and you let go of him eventually. You head towards the other door then enter, the space in between reminding him of where you both belong - on either side of a line, one that he shouldn’t think of crossing.

You sink into your seat, fighting the urge to curl your body and take a nap, so you sit up straight and hold yourself together after once again feeling Jungkook’s arm under your touch. Most of the alcohol has left your system but perhaps not enough, as you boldly look at him and smile in appreciation. He returns it, perhaps knowing why you are.

You look out the window, appreciating Seoul’s night sky, until the vision starts getting unclear, as the rain falls steadily on the window. The tapping of the droplets on the glass is a sound you’ve come to appreciate, among other things that you used to be terrified of. 

There’s just this calmness, as if the rain is greeting you, accompanying you in your thoughts. But the sound of the radio getting louder disrupts that a little bit, and in looking at Mr. Ri in question only to find him glancing at the rearview mirror to see the man next to you, do you realize why he’s doing so.

Jungkook’s demeanor has changed, a complete 180 to how he looked not long ago when he seemed satisfied, fulfilled, almost proud of himself for surviving the night. He’s now cross-legged and cross-armed, with his eyes closed and jaws clenched, as if he’s trying to hold himself together. Or trying his best to drown out the sound of the rain, the way Mr. Ri is trying to do for him.

Your face falls at the sight. You’ve seen Jungkook stressed and angry and disappointed; you’ve seen him anxious, too, but this is different. There’s a bit of fear in there, and with the way he flinches and how he’s clutching onto his arms, you know this comes from somewhere and this was caused by something. If it’s anything similar to what you know, then this was because of something painful.

You want to reach out to him but you know you shouldn’t. You helplessly look back on the road then glance at Jungkook every few seconds as the rain continues. It doesn’t seem like it will be a terrible downpour but it’s stronger than usual. 

You try to remember instances in the past where he’d acted this way. A few come to mind, and you think now there’s a reason why he becomes uneasy when it starts to drizzle. That happened the other week while you were on a site visit with him for a small project, but you hadn’t thought much of it, given that he was on his fourth cup of coffee on the way there. 

But right now, you wish there was something more you could do; anything is better than nothing. But you feel constrained - by the distance, by your position, by his boundaries that seem to always be there.

By some miracle, the rain weakens, and it’s stopped by the time you arrive at Jungkook’s apartment building. The car halts and with him still in the same position, you think he probably doesn’t realize he’s home. 

“Mr. Jeon,” you say softly, gently tapping his arm to get his attention. “We’ve reached your place. And the rain has stopped. It’s… it’s okay to open your eyes now.”

It takes a few seconds but he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, then looks around. It’s just droplets frozen in time on his window and he sighs in relief. Somehow the assurance that he’s okay means something to you this time; you hate to think of what burden he carries that he hides away.

He opens the door, and there’s a bit of disappointment you feel when he closes it and leaves without a goodbye. You suppose he just wants to get to his place immediately and rush to safety. But you don’t want to intrude, not if distance is what he needs, so  you settle with just watching him walk away. 

But then he turns around, and with that bit of boldness left in your body, you open the window and give him another smile. You wish he feels the tenderness in it; you wish somehow it’s enough to let him know that you understand, and that he’s not alone. 

“Good night,” you manage to say, and he hears it despite the distance.

“Good night, ___. And thank you.”

It’s the use of your name. It’s the softness of his smile and the words of gratitude. It’s the way he lingers as the car starts to drive away and you’re left watching him even from afar. 

It lets you know that he knows. And it’s the reason why you sleep soundly that night and why for the first time since you’ve met him, you can’t wait to see him again. 

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[skythealmighty]

can you imagine if like. object show characters were active on tumblr . i mean fans on here but his account is dead so. i mean itd be fun

#rocket talk #roc save #Fan come Back we miss you

(0 notes)

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

OH MY GOD NEW TPOT EPIWODHWND IM GONNA GO INSANE ONE!!! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS ONE!!!!!!

1️⃣ theoneandonly Follow

:)

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

HELLO??

#oh my god HI . THIS IS LIKE IF A CELEBRITY CAME UP TO ME IN PUBLIC. #ARE THE OTHER ALGEBRALIENS ON TUMBLR??? #/WHAT/

(3 notes)

🧪 test-tubular Follow

My best friend is pacing around my lab. I think a new episode's come out on one of his shows...

#I love him (/p) but he's going to become an unskippable cutscene very quickly

(0 notes)

⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow

i love shrimpy but it feels like he rlly doesnt ... get what i mean you know 😔 at least hes trying to cheer me up? i just wish i had someone to really talk to when it comes to these weird things i keep seeing

💼 emotional-baggage Follow

hey, i completely understand how you feel! im going to be busy the next few days with a finale, but ive sent you a dm if you need someone to talk to ^-^

⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow

thanks, ill take you up on that later!

⛔ nowayhuhuh Follow

...suitcase?

#i dont think shes been online since that last post #i hope shes alright...

(5 notes)

💰 goforthegold Follow

Reblogging this every time I miss my co-hosts!

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

🎮 iamnotmrkrabs Follow

Are you Okay

💰 goforthegold Follow

Take a wild guess.

(512 notes)

🥈 5centwonder Follow

why do people keep messaging me about hotel things?? i barely even go in two's hotel!

🥈 5centwonder Follow

yowie, you all need a hug :(!!

#especially you baseball guy!!! #im giving everyone in the comments a nice warm soft cookie

(19 notes)

🆚️ wordswithfriends Follow

Reblog if you think Flower winning BFB was a good choice, you like cheesecake, you hate Steve Cobs, you think Platinum is annoying, you're a fan of Dr. Fizz, you watch Jasonville TV, you think Glowstick's elimination was deserved, or you're gay

#they'll never know which one #i'm gay

(3,724 notes)

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

WHY IS THERE INTERNET IN RJE AFTERLIFE HELLO

👑 kingofeverything Follow

OMG NO WAY

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GET OFF OF TUMBLR.

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

YOU HAVE??? A TUMBRL???????

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

...no.

👑 kingofeverything Follow

reblog if u dont have a tumblr

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

This is stupid.

(10,734 notes)

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

imagine needing to be Consistent to be popular

🖍 magic-crayons Follow

You know it girl!!!

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

AYYYEEEE

#idk who u are but we should hang out Now

(3 notes)

🟢 greenyguy Follow

🅱️alls

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🎒 liam-plecak Follow

Oh my god I finally got this thing to connect to the internet. Okay.

Hello, Tumblr, my name is Liam Plecak. I'm sorry for the tag spam, but this is an urgent enough matter that I think warrants it.

For the past year and a half, I've been trapped in another universe with little-to-no communication to anyone else. I've been reading a few posts here and there, and I think some of you might be able to help with freeing me and my friends (I think some of you have powers?). Below is an in-depth description of where I am, what happened, and who did this to me. Please, if you can help, send me an ask.

Keep reading

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

oh my god? liam from hfjone is fucking real????

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

I'm sorry what

[toruro]

— ✧ the letter

i hope one word, one letter, will laugh and cry with you (the letter / ateez)

pairing. xu minghao x reader

description. in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.

genres. slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l

tags. idol!au, alcohol consumption & underage drinking, lots of arguments, Lots of pent up emotions oops, miscommunication, sorta hot headed reader, minghao is minghao and that is a warning enough

fic playlist.

w/c. 26k

a/n. the smut has been moved to a separate post which can be found here! i had so so so much fun writing this! huge thanks to @gyuswhore bc em literally helped me through every step of the way & sat through me planning & switching around the events of the story a bajillion times, and thank u to @honeyhypen who read over this for me ^-^

ENVELOPE

To: Xu Minghao

“Why are you in my room?” Jun huffs, turning around to look up at you as you stand by his door. In front of him is a massive, yet unfinished LEGO replica of Hogwarts. You frown, glancing at his friend who lays on his bed with a phone up to his face.

He’s Jun’s new friend, and you’ve heard your brother talk about him but this is your first time really seeing Minghao in the flesh. Shaggy hair hangs loose over his dark eyes as he peeks over his phone and glances at Jun, as if to silently ask who you are.

“Dad says dinner is ready,” you tell him, feeling a little timid under the gaze of the new boy. He’s only two years older than you, but the only interaction you get with high schoolers is your brother, so you’re feeling shy. He’s a very nice looking boy, you think to yourself, but try hard not to stare as Minghao uncrosses his legs and sits up on your brother's bed.

Jun’s eyes soften when he notices you standing awkwardly, standing up and pointing at you as he says your name. “My sister—two years younger,” he explains.

“One point five, actually,” you correct him with a roll of your eyes, feeling more comfortable now that Jun is initiating something. Your brother laughs at you and ruffles your hair while Minghao stands up behind him.

“Ya-da, ya-da. You’re still two grades below, so it doesn’t really make a difference. Anyways, this is Minghao,” he says, pointing at his friend behind him who throws you a small smile and wave.

“I know,” you blurt out before you even have a chance to think, heat flushing to your face after you realize what you said and see Minghao give you a funny look. “I-I mean because Jun talks about you a lot,” you clarify, clearing your throat. “Y’know, he doesn’t have a lot of friends so when—”

Jun clamps a hand over your mouth and gently drags you out of the room as Minghao follows behind closely with silent laughter. “That’s enough from you. Watch it, or I’m never letting you talk to my friends again.”

“Friends? I think you mean friend,” you retort, looking back at Minghao who watches the two of you amusedly. “Are you sure you want to be friends with someone so mean to his sist—”

Jun flicks your forehead and you push his chest. “Shut up already! If you scare away all my friends, all I’ll have left is you, and you’ll just have to put up with me all day!”

“You’re right about that,” you say with a heavy sigh as you all make your way to the dinner table where your father has set out a meal for the three of you. Putting your hands up in defeat as you sit down at your spot at the middle end of the table, you glance at Minghao who takes a seat with Jun sitting between the two of you. “I guess I’ll back off for now.”

Jun scoffs. “You better.” The three of you laugh together.

Yiren rummages through your closet, and you frown deeply. “Hey! You better clean that up,” you warn, rolling off of your bed and onto the floor, lazily standing up.

“I’m helping you pick out a nice outfit! You said Minghao is coming ri—” You scramble to your feet to slap a hand over Yiren’s mouth, eyes wide.

“Shut up! My brother’s room is right there—he might hear you!”

Yiren rolls her eyes, nudging your hand off her mouth with a huff. “Oh my god, don’t tell me you haven’t told him yet.”

“What?” you narrow your eyes at her, grabbing one of your bras that she threw onto the ground and stuffing it back into your closet. “You thought I was going to tell Jun that I have a crush on his best friend?” you half whisper, half yell.

“Uh, why wouldn’t you? You’re seriously missing out on your chance to have him help you get with Minghao.”

You scoff, looking down at all the clothes strewn across the floor. “Have you met my brother? He would flip if I even mentioned being with a guy, let alone that guy being two years older and his friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Yiren retorts, throwing herself onto your bed leaving you to clean up the mess she made.

“Yes I do. This is how I can tell you don’t have any brothers …”

“Well if you never make a move on Minghao, how are you ever going to get him? You gotta start somewhere, and maybe your brother is the first nut you gotta crack to get there.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly planned on making any moves,” you mumble, reaching down to pick up a cute pink jacket you haven’t seen in a while.

“Uh, why not?” Yiren piques, sitting upright on your mattress.

“Excuse me, have you looked at Minghao?” you groan, slumping against your wall with the jacket in your hands. “He’s so … cool, and popular, and handsome,” you gush, and Yiren makes a disgusted face.

“Uh, no, sorry I don’t fawn over your future husband, so I don’t really look at Minghao but—”

“And he’s going to be a senior! Why would a senior ever go for—” you look down and gesture at yourself, “—me.”

“You’re seriously downgrading yourself—you know you’re a catch.”

“Yeah, not for someone like him,” you snort, flopping down onto your bed next to her. “It’s whatever, it’s a stupid crush anyways.”

“Yeah,” Yiren says flatly. “You’ve only been crushing on him for like three years—hey! Don’t hit me!”

“Then stop saying this stuff,” you groan, throwing a pillow onto her head.

“Okay fine, I’ll stop. So are you going to wear that?” she asks, pointing at the jacket you left at the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, I think I will. It’s cute right?”

“Mhm … bet Minghao will totally like it and—”

“Yiren, shut up,” you giggle, pushing her again as you roll off the bed. “Okay, so the pink jacket and these jeans?” you ask, picking one pair off the ground and holding it up for her to see.

“Mm, no,” she says while shaking her head, standing up to join you as she looks at all of the clothes she threw across the floor. “Let’s see …” she hums to herself.

“Yiren,” you say with a laugh, “I think you’re putting more thought into this than me.”

“Well I can’t just let my best friend be single and lonely for the rest of her life! If all you do is sit around and listen to Radiohead, you’re going to end up being sixty-five and alone in some cottage in the woods.”

“Hey! That actually seems pretty peaceful,” you try to object, but Yiren narrows her eyes in your direction.

“Okay well,” she drawls out, putting her hands on your shoulders so you’re right in front of her, “Imagine being sixty-five and living in a cute cottage in the woods with Minghao. Sounds better, doesn’t it?” You can’t help the giddy grin that makes its way onto your face when Yiren says that, and she punches your shoulder lightly when she notices. “See, you do want that! So just listen to me, okay?”

“Okay, okay, fine! Just tell me which jeans to wear.”

She looks down, picking through the denim before pulling out a light blue one with little flowers embroidered on the pockets. “Look, this is cute. It’ll match with the jacket.”

You nod along, not questioning her because as far as you know, Yiren’s fashionable instinct stretches much further than yours and whatever she says about this must be true. As you change from your pajamas  into your new, curated outfit, Yiren sits back on the bed and grins widely.

“Looks perfect on you. Minghao will love it.”

“You think?” you pique, looking at her with bright, beaming eyes.

She winks at you and you jump up and down on the balls of your feet at the excitement. “I want at least 25% of whatever you get from your wedding gifts. You both will owe me big time.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens … Anyways, you ready to go? Let’s wait downstairs and get some pop while we wait for Minghao to come,” you suggest, Yiren agreeing with a nod as she bounces behind you. Jun, it seems, is still in his room waiting for his friend, so you stick your head through his door. “We’re going down to snack a little. Wanna come?”

Your brother shrugs, pushing himself off his swiveling chair to join you. “You know if we still have those cupcakes? The ones you made last week?”

“I think we have a few left. Why? You liked them?” you exclaim happily, turning around to face Jun as the three of you settle in the kitchen. You reach for a box you kept on the island, popping off the lid to show him.

Jun grins and pulls one out and you offer one to Yiren who stands beside you. “‘course I like them,” he says with his mouth stuffed with cake and cream.

Yiren, shooting a look of disgust his way, says, “Ew! Please don’t chew and talk, that’s gross.” Jun rolls his eyes at her as Yiren stuffs her own face with the cupcake, sighing as she digs in.

“Whatever,” Jun grumbles after swallowing it down. “They taste really good, you should make them more.”

Yiren nods, tapping your shoulder, “Agreed. Send me the recipe too,” voice muffled as she continues to munch down on the cupcake.

“Didn’t you just tell me not to eat with my mouth full?” Jun mutters, crossing his hands over his chest. You laugh at the banter and suddenly you hear the doorbell ring, ears perking up. “That’s probably Minghao—I’ll get the door.”

As your brother makes his way down to the foyer, you turn to look at Yiren. “I would give you the recipe but I don’t want to be the reason your house burns down. Seriously, remember the last time you tried baking and—”

“Oh my god, is the recipe what you’re thinking about right now? Minghao is just about to come—offer him a cupcake! Show him your amazing baking skills and show him what a good housewife you can be!”

You give your best friend a look of bewilderment. “What the hell Yiren,” you groan, slapping your hand on your face, trying to hold back your chuckles. “Okay, I’ll give it to him but only because I want him to be impressed. Not because I want to submit myself to misogyny for the sake of a man.”

“Okay fine but—look!” she exclaims in a hushed whisper. “He’s here!” You immediately straighten your back and smile when Jun walks back into the kitchen with Minghao. He’s wearing some loose jeans and a black hoodie, his hair longer than before.

He says your name when he sees you, throwing up a wave and a smile. Minghao then glances at Yiren with a blank stare, pursing his lips together. Yiren chuckles nervously and clicks her tongue while pointing at herself. “Yiren.”

“Ah. Hi Yiren,” he says politely.

“You guys want some pop?” Jun offers when he opens up the fridge. Yiren, Minghao, and you nod happily and respectively call out your choices.

“Sprite!”

“Cola!”

“Cola!”

Jun juts his lip out in a pout when he turns back to the three of you. “I wanted Cola too, but there’s only two left.” You’re about to furrow your brows and tell him that it’s okay, you don’t really want any, but Minghao speaks up before you.

“She can have the Cola, I don’t mind,” he says casually, grabbing one can from Jun and handing it to you with soft eyes. “Here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t really care for the difference between Sprite and Cola and—”

Minghao chuckles and shakes his head, and you think you might just pass out when your palm brushes against his knuckles when he eases the cold can into your hand. “Seriously, it’s fine,” he tells you. You glance at Jun and Yiren who are busy opening their own cans, turning your attention back to Minghao.

“Thank you … Uh, do you want a cupcake? I made some a while ago and we still have some left,” you offer, holding up the box to him.

“It’s the last one. Are you sure?”

“How the tables have turned,” you laugh, and Minghao cracks a bright smile at that and holy crap, if you weren’t so busy trying to keep your composure, you’d be freaking out over how handsome he looks when he smiles. “‘course you can have it. I’ve had plenty of them,” you admit sheepishly as he reaches for the cupcake and brings up to his mouth.

“Holy shit. I don’t blame you for eating a lot—if I had these in my house they’d be gone in like an hour.”

“Right!” Yiren agrees, and you can’t help but chew on your bottom lip when you smile from the praise.

“Guess this is just a sign for you to make more, huh,” Jun says, walking to stand next to you to lean on your shoulder.

“Uh-uh! You gotta reimburse me somehow,” you protest, looking up at your brother with a firm expression.

“Please make more, they’re really good. I’ll buy you boba if you make more,” Minghao chimes, and it’s safe to say you don’t expect it from the way you cough on your own saliva. Yiren laughs at your reaction, and Jun only looks at you weirdly when you nod in agreement.

“Oh, so you’ll make cupcakes when he asks but not for your dear older brother?”

You roll your eyes, saying, “He offered to buy me boba! You know I can’t turn that down.”

Jun huffs in faux irritation, digging his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys. “Ya-da, ya-da. Anyways, would anyone other than my super fake, mean, evil sister like to go to karaoke now?” he asks playfully. All it takes is one glare and pulling on his hair for a few seconds to have him shouting out apologies as the four of you make your way to the car garage.

The ride to the karaoke place is short with Jun in the front and Minghao sitting in the passenger seat next to him. You and Yiren pile into the back, and the three of you scroll through your phones to decide what songs to sing later while Jun drives.

“I get to sing Creep, right?” you ask excitedly, bouncing up and down in your seat.

“How’d I know you were going to bring up Radiohead,” Jun mutters, pressing his head back into the head rest when he stops at a red light, while Minghao turns in his seat to look back at you with wide eyes.

“You like Radiohead?” he asks with a small smile.

The corners of your lips are lifted and your face brightens when you nod vigorously. “Yeah I do!”

“I think ‘like’ would be an understatement. I’m like 99% sure Thom Yorke lives in her skin or something because what she has for Radiohead is a lot more than just ‘like,’” Yiren says.

“No way, I love Radiohead,” Minghao tells you. Holy shit. So Minghao is attractive and nice and smart and pretty much perfect at everything and he enjoys Radiohead? You might go insane.

“Really?” Your eyes are wide with your jaw hanging open, leaning forward in your seat.

You hear Jun groan from the driver’s seat, and both you and Minghao shoot him a dirty look. “I forgot both of you are obsessed with Radiohead. Seriously, could either of you get more emo?”

“If you weren’t driving right now, I’d strangle you,” Minghao says bluntly before looking back at you. “Anyways, what’s your favorite song?”

“Junnie, please, can you put on Creep now? You know I’ve been waiting forever,” you plead, holding your hand out to the microphone that’s in your brother’s hand. The room is dark and lit up with red and blue LEDs across the border, making the room glow purple.

“But I want to sing another round of Taylor Swift!” he protests, pointing at the big screen in front of you while clutching the microphone close to his chest. You scoff, poking his side. “You know I’m not ticklish, so that doesn’t work.”

“You’re not ticklish? How?” Yiren exclaims, looking at Jun with wide eyes.

You turn to squint at her. “He’s weird. I thought we already established this.”

“Hey!” Jun whines. “See this is why you won’t be getting to sing Creep tonight.”

“Jun!” you cry out, and you’re about to pull out a string of complaints and curses, but then Minghao is stepping in, pointing at you.

“Put on Creep. She’s been asking for a while and I want to sing it too,” he says. Jun is quiet for a moment before sighing and handing you the microphone which leads you to puffing up your chest and smiling proudly.

“Thanks,” you chirp gleefully, as Minghao holds his own microphone up to his lips.

When he smiles at you, it’s kind and sincere in such a way that it has your heart swelling under your pretty pink jacket. Minghao coolly points at Yiren who sits by the control tablet. “Creep. Hit it.”

The air inside your house is warm as you skip down the hall and down the stairs. When the bell rang the first time, you thought it was just some package but when you hear it ring twice, you think otherwise.

When you peek through the little peep-hole, you jump up and down on the balls of your feet, a mix of excitement and nerves pools at your stomach. You open the door and Minghao shuffles in front of you at the doorstep. You haven’t seen him in a few weeks, and his hair looks shorter. “Did you cut your hair?” you ask the seventeen year old as you move to the side so he can step in.

“Yeah, it was getting in my eyes too much,” he tells you with a nod, a small puff of vapor coming from his lips. It’s cold, and you hear him inhale a breath of relief when you close the door behind him. “Thought the door was never gonna open. I was freezing my ass off,” he says, unwinding the brown scarf from his neck.

“‘m sorry,” you reply sheepishly as he takes off his shoes, following you through the foyer. “Jun didn’t tell me you were coming so I was in my room. He’s still out with my dad, but he’ll be back soon.”

“That’s fine.” Minghao shrugs off his puffer jacket, placing it on the coat rack while you make your way to the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink? It’s cold outside, so I can make some hot chocolate. Jun got the nice kind from the cafe down the street.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” he says, sitting down at one of the stools in front of the kitchen island as you take out some milk and hot chocolate powder. It’s silent, and you chew your lip while thinking about how this is the first time in a really long time that you and Minghao have been alone together.

Nearing the end of his twelfth year in high school and just like the first time you met him, he’s as enticing as ever. Dancing competitions with Jun, left and right, smart and respectful with the teachers, popular among the students—you're lucky you get to talk to someone as cool as him, even if it is only on the account that you’re his best friend’s little sister.

“How’s high school?” he asks casually as you boil some milk over the stove.

“It’s alright … English is still hard as ever,” you admit, dropping the powder into the frothing milk.

Minghao chuckles softly when you turn around to face him, and a small smile makes its way onto your lips. “Yeah, it was never my strong suit either. You still friends with … what’s her name? Sorry, I’m not good with names—the girl who lost her voice at karaoke when she came with us?”

“Yiren?” you giggle softly, recalling the memory. “Yeah. Still friends, still as loud as ever,” you say with a sigh, mixing the milk as it turns light brown. “How are things with you? Jun’s been telling me the dance practices you guys have is pretty intense. He always looks like he could eat a horse when he comes home.”

“That’s good to hear, and yeah, it’s all going good. It is pretty tiring, but it’s a lot of fun,” Minghao replies, stretching his arms behind his back as you pour out the hot chocolate into two mugs, bringing it over. “Thanks,” he murmurs, grabbing from your hand sitting down at your regular spot, one extra chair seated between the two of you as always.

Arm’s length, you think for a moment, before shaking yourself of the thought. “I’m sure the practice is paying off though—seems like Jun is always talking about some new kinda competition or something.”

“Mhm,” Minghao hums, taking a sip of the hot cacao. “This is really good, thank you,” he says with a soft smile, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some sort of giddiness erupt in your stomach. “I think … I think we can really take it somewhere—our dancing.”

It’s a sparing thought that Minghao and Jun’s dreams are far beyond yours, and you have a bit of a difficult time trying to understand what he means by somewhere and if that somewhere includes you or not.

“You’re going to Korea?” your eyebrows furrow as you glance between Jun and your parents.

“Nothing’s finalized yet—” your mother says, but when Jun’s eyes flicker between you and the ground, you already know that this is set in stone.

“Yes it is.” Your voice is small when the words come out. “You—” you take a deep breath, “—you’re going.”

“Not now, of course,” your dad says, patting your back as he stands up, your mother following suit. “Talk for a few minutes, yeah?” he says as both your parents walk out. When your whole family walked into your room ten minutes earlier to tell you they had big news, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly was not this.

And now you’re sitting with your brother on one end of your bed while you’re curled up against your pillows on the other, unable to meet his gaze.

“When are you going?” you ask quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“August.”

“That’s in a month and a half,” your shoulders deflate as you say it. “How long?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You bury your face in your hands in hopes that it’ll muffle your cries. It doesn’t.

Jun scoots over to you quickly when he sees your shoulders shake, one arm going around your back to pull you close to his body, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “How are you going to do it?” you blubber as your brother pats your back. “You can’t just go to a whole different country alone and—”

“I won’t be alone. Minghao is coming with me,” Jun tells you quickly. Now that brings your head up. You don’t care that your nose is snotty and that your hair is all over the place and that your face burns, you just need to see the look on Jun’s face to see that he isn’t messing with you.

The way his own eyes are glossy gives you your answer. “Y-you both got accepted into tha-that company?”

Jun nods. “We applied together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were applying? I-I would’ve understood. You could have given me more time to process this and—” You look down at your hands, “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, not finding the words in your throat.

“We didn’t even know if we would get accepted. Me and Minghao promised each other that we’d only follow through with it if both of us got in and we didn’t think that there’d be a high chance of that because it’s so competitive … I only told Mom and Dad because until we got the acceptances, I really didn’t think it was going to actually happen.” You gulp at his words, trying to let it all sink in.

“I think … I think I just need to go on a walk. Take a breather, y’know,” you mutter under your breath as you stand up. Just as you're about to walk away, you stop yourself, looking back at Jun who stares down at his hands. You don’t think twice before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. “I’m really proud of you,” you say quietly before rushing out of your room and down the stairs.

You shove your feet into some slippers in the foyer, rushing out onto the street soon after. You aren’t sure what you’re doing or where you’re headed, but you continue to trudge along the sidewalk until you’re walking down the main road.

The summer air is hot and stuffy, and you wonder if you feel so suffocated because of the sun’s onslaught or because of thoughts that run through your head. It’s surrounding you, breathing it in, it fills your lungs, courses through your veins, rushes to your brain—you don’t know what it is, but it’s uncomfortable and has you dizzy and your vision foggy.

You lean against a thick lamppost next to you, hands on your knees as you knit your eyebrows together as sweat beads down your forehead. What the fuck, you think as you breathe in through your nose.

You hear your own name bounce around in your head, and the sound only grows louder and louder until you’re muttering under your breath, telling yourself to shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up. And there are tears in your eyes but you furiously wipe them away because while you don’t mind crying, you do mind crying if you don’t know why.

And fuck, there’s that voice again, your name echoing over and over again until it’s growing lowder and ringing in your ears. You think you might start crying again until the voice sounds familiar and you’re whipping your head up and standing straight when you see a car pull up to the curb next to you.

“Fuck my life,” you mumble to yourself when you see Minghao in the driver’s seat of the car. He rolls down the window and god, he looks so pretty with his hair back and upper body fit into a loose yellow shirt.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asks you, brows pinched into a concerned expression as he looks at you, face flushed and sheen from sweat.

“I—” You’re about to smile at him and let the giddiness of having your crush talk to you take over, but then the words get caught in your throat when you remember the whole reason you’re out here. “—I’m just going on a walk.”

“In this heat?” He raises a brow at you. “Where to? Let me give you a ride. You don’t look too well.”

“Nowhere really,” you say with a shrug. “Actually, I might just head back home,” you rush out, turning on your heel to walk in the other direction so Minghao can’t pry any further, but he stops you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he calls out, and you don’t have the willpower to ignore him. “Let me drive you home then. Seriously, you don’t look well—like you look like you’re ‘bout to pass out and shit—so just get in the car, please?” He says the last part with some sort of beggary etched onto his face and you just can’t deny him. Not now, not ever.

Pulling the door open, your limbs feel heavy as you climb into the car, air much cooler and fresher than outside. Leaning your head against the headrest, you let your eyes flutter shut as Minghao starts the car.

“Are you seriously okay? You look—”

“Sick, I know. I look sick,” your grumble, eyes still shut. You wonder if you should tell him Jun just told you everything.

“I’m sorry,” and you can tell from the way his voice doesn’t waver that he means it.

“Jun told me about Korea.”

“Oh.” Yeah, very big oh. “Just now?” You nod. “Is that why you were out here?” You nod again, finally opening your eyes.

“Hey, this isn’t the way to my house.”

Minghao keeps his eyes on the road. “C’mon, let’s get some pop,” he says, ignoring your statement and driving into the parking lot of a convenience store. He unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out his end, not saying a word, and you figure that you have no other choice but to follow.

Any other situation and you’d be grinning about spending some time alone with Minghao, but after hearing Jun tell you that he’s going to be traveling hundreds of miles and flying over borders within the next two months has your stomach churning in a way you don’t like.

You don’t know if you want to spend all the hours of the day with Jun and Minghao, or if you want to crawl up in your bed and pretend they don’t exist so it’ll hurt less when they’re gone. You feel stupid for thinking like this—you know it’s going to hurt either way.

You’re lost in your own thoughts as you walk into the store after Minghao, only snapped back into the present when he says something to you. “Hey, those are your jeans that you wore when we first did karaoke right?’

You blink once and then twice before looking down at your pants. They were those same jeans. “Yeah, how’d you know?” you ask him incredulously, and Minghao chuckles as he reaches into the cooler and pulls out a pink popsicle.

“I remember the flowers and how they matched your pink jacket. It was cute,” he says casually, and you hope he doesn’t catch onto the way your fingers twiddle together nervously and you avert your gaze. “Anyways, you like Cola right?” he clarifies when reaching into the drink fridge near the cooler. You nod shyly, thanking him quietly when he hands you a can.

As you make your way to the cash register, you fish around in your pockets for a few moments hoping you’ll dig up a dollar bill or something but then Minghao’s hand is on your wrist and he shakes his head with a smile.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover it.” He turns back so quickly you don’t have time to protest because he’s already sticking his card into the machine, throwing the cashier a thumbs up and walking out the store without a word.

“I could’ve paid for myself, y’know,” you grumble, following behind Minghao, watching to see where he’s headed. You think he’s going to get back into his car, but instead he plops down on the street curb, sitting on the ground. You just look at him for a few moments, contemplating what to do for a few moments before joining his side.

“Yeah, but I wanted to pay for it.”

The sun is bright and it beads down on you relentlessly, but you don’t complain. You both sit in silence as you both tend to your snacks—Minghao tries to lap up his popsicle quickly now that you’re out in the heat and you try to drink as much of your Cola as you can before it grows lukewarm. The air grows thick between you.

You can’t find the right words to say. You suppose there aren’t any right words or any wrong words, and that you can say just about anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Glancing at Minghao who takes a lick of his pink popsicle, you feel that uneasy feeling swarm inside of your chest.

You could kiss him right now. You could press your mouth against his sticky lips and lap at the sugar against his tongue. You could hold his face and run your fingers through his hair and cradle the nape of his neck. You could do anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Minghao, after all, was leaving.

But you’re scared and Minghao is mature and his dreams are big and he’s brave.

Your eyes linger on his plush lips for no longer than a second before you shamefully look down at the Cola in your hands, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach.

“You’ll remember this place, right? Like—if you get big and famous and stuff, you two won’t forget, right?” you resort to asking. You say ‘this place,’ but really, you mean ‘me.’ You don’t want to be forgotten.

Minghao watches you with his eyes clouded with something you can’t really make out. “Of course we won’t. We’ll remember forever.” Absentmindedly, you trace figure-eights into the top of your can of pop, and Minghao catches the motion.

Using his own finger, he traces the figure of the number eight over the cement of the curb. “See. Like infinity, y’know?”

You purse your lips together and nod, your mind going dizzy. “Can we … can we go?” you mumble softly, gripping the can in your hand. “I think the heat kinda got to me.” It’s not entirely a lie.

Minghao doesn’t question you, polishing off his popsicle and tossing it into the trash before unlocking the door so you can take the silent ride home.

Jun and Minghao flew out two months ago. You went with your family and Minghao’s family to bid goodbyes. It’s not like you wouldn’t see them again—give or take a few months and Jun would be back at home, but he’d have to leave again. And again. And again.

It’s sad, you think, as you slump against Yiren on some random person’s couch. You miss them so much, but when you think about Jun and Minghao, all you can see is the hard work they’ve put into going where they’re headed.

You feel selfish as you bring a cup up to your lips. You feel pathetic and lame and if you weren’t already drunk, you’d be wallowing in self pity as well. The alcohol tastes just as bitter as your feelings, and while you wince when you gulp it down, you don’t hesitate to let some more run down your throat.

Yiren watches you worriedly when you clutch her arm and shut your eyes tight. “I miss them,” you whisper, and she doesn’t know if you’re talking to her or to yourself. She strokes your hair and coos to you about taking you to lie down somewhere.

Your head spins as she helps you stand, letting the cup fall to the ground, not bothering to pick it up. Yiren pulls you into an empty bedroom and sits you on the bed. “Drink this,” she instructs, handing you a bottle of water.

“Yiren, I miss them,” you repeat yourself.

“I know, I know you do. Do you want to go home? I’ll drive you and—”

“No, you go have fun. I just need to sit down for a sec,” you tell her, letting your back fall onto the mattress. Yiren gives you a warning look, but you shoo her off. “Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She looks like she wants to protest, but you both know you’re on a one track mind right now.

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” Yiren begs as she walks away and closes the door behind her. You’re still dizzy, but not nearly as bad as before. Sitting up, you glance around the room. It’s simple—probably a guest room in whoever’s house this is. Also probably why the door was unlocked in the first place.

You feel you might pass out until your eyes land on an open notebook on a table in the corner of the room. You don’t think twice before standing up and ripping a sheet out, scrambling for a pen.

DEAR MINGHAO

I’m drunk right now. I miss you and I miss Jun. I hope when you guys come back again, we can go to that karaoke place again and sing to Radiohead. I’ve expanded my taste you know—my favorite song is Fake Plastic Trees now, and I even got a record player just so I could play the vinyl for it. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.

When you come back, we should really go there again. Yiren’s been getting really tired of me singing Creep every time, so I need a new duo partner. And she’s leaving too, so there’s that.

I really want to kiss you right now, but you’re in Korea.

I miss Jun a lot too. I think I hate you for it. He’s my brother but somehow you get to see him more and talk to him more and be with him more. Sometimes I call him and it’s for less than five minutes and I hear your voice in the background and I don’t know if I want to listen to you speak forever or strangle you so you can never talk again. I get that Jun is busy, and that you’re busy, but you guys get to be busy together.

Yiren told me she’s probably going to go to college out of the country next year. I’m going to miss her like hell. I think I already miss her, and so I drag her to karaoke with me so she won’t ever forget about me and Radiohead and how garbage I am at singing Creep.

Jun says he’s going to come visit home in two months, and that you might come along. I didn’t know home was a place you only visit, but I guess being an idol changes you. I probably sound super bitter right now. I’m not. Maybe I’m upset that you guys are gone, but I really am happy for you.Jun is happy, and you’re happy, and I’m so happy you have each other.

It’s hard to focus on your exam—halfway through your degree and you still get the jitters every time you step into the testing hall. It’s probably the nerves. And the caffeine. And the fact that you’ll be seeing your brother and Minghao in three hours.

It’s mainly the third that has your leg bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you jot down your answers. The exam takes longer than you’d like to finish, but as soon as you’ve finished the final question, you’re bolting out of the large room and toward the parking lot.

Connecting your phone to your car, you call Jun as you back out of the parking spot. “Hey, you guys at the airport?” you ask when you hear him pick up.

“Yeah, we’re just getting out right now but there’s kind of a crowd so it might take a while to just get to the car.”

“I forgot you guys are, like, famous,” you mutter jokingly. “Where’re you headed first? Minghao’s place first?”

“Yeah probably. He’s gonna see his parents and stuff first and then I’ll go to Mom and Dad’s house, so you can just come there.”

“Okay … we’re still good for our dinner plans, right?”

“Yeah, actually I was wondering if Minghao could tag along,” Jun says, and you can hear some muffled shouting from the other side.

“Oh okay, yeah su—”

“Hey, look, there’s a lot of people here and I can’t hear much so just text me your response and I’ll get to you in a second,” Jun tells you quickly as the shouting grows louder. He hangs up soon after and you sigh heavily as you start driving to your parents house.

The ride is quiet but you’re happy to be met with gleeful parents when you get to their place. You’re all a bit spirited at the prospect of Jun coming home, so when you hear the old ringing of the door bell, you’re bolting to the door and swinging it open, jumping into his arms.

“What happened to ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” Jun teases as he hugs you close, awkwardly trying to shuffle into the house. You poke your tongue out at him when you finally unwind your arms from around him.

“Hi. Hello. How are you? You seem obnoxious, as always,” you shoot back, and Jun only grins, pinching your cheek tightly.

“Oh how I missed my little insane sister,” he says before moving onto your parents, enveloping them in hugs as you all begin to settle down in the living room. The four of you spend a few hours catching up with Jun before he excuses himself to freshen up so he can get ready for your plans for the evening.

When he comes back all ready, you’re pulling out your keys from your purse and waving bye to your parents, promising them you’ll stop by the next morning as you and your brother make your way to the door.

“See you later!” Jun calls out before closing the front door behind him and following you to your car. Minghao’s house is close by, no more than a five minute drive, and it’s quiet as you take the familiar roads through the town to get there.

“Should we go in?” you ask when you park in Minghao’s driveway. “You haven’t seen his parents in a while, have you?”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. C’mon, let’s go.” You both slip out of the car and make your way to the front door. Minghao’s mother opens the door and you spend a few minutes exchanging greetings and catching up before Minghao is stepping out, clad in some black jeans and a grey hoodie.

He smiles when he sees you, pulling you into a hug, giving you a chance to feel the slightly damp hair against your cheek and the woody smell that always reminds you of him. “Hey, how’s it been?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I-I’m good,” you say shyly.

“Let’s talk more in the car, yeah?” Jun suggests, turning back to Minghao’s parents to give them a hug before you all wave your goodbyes and get into your car.

“Where’re we headed?” Jun asks, as you back out of the driveway. Jun sits in the passenger seat while Minghao slips into the back.

“It’s this new place—opened just a few months ago so I doubt you’d have gone there yet,” you tell him as you start driving.

“Is it the place next to the cafe?” Minghao asks you, and you nod excitedly.

“Yeah … how’d you know?”

“My mom told me about it, and said I should try it out. I guess now’s my chance, huh.”

“Yeah! It’s really good, I hope you both like it,” you say, reaching over to the AUX controls to flick on one of your playlists. “Okay guys … are you ready?” you warn, watching Minghao’s eyes brighten through the mirror.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you guys are going to sign Creep again—” Jun starts to groan, but you reach over and press a finger over his lips to shut him up.

“Quiet,” Minghao hisses to his friend, scooting forward in his seat so you’re in his view, placing his hands under your headrest. His fingers brush against the back of your neck and you’re scared you might crash the car from the way his touch makes you shiver. Fuck, more than half a damn decade and you still can’t fight it off. “Turn it up,” he instructs from behind, and you can only grin as you reach over and pump up the volume.

The deep rumble of snare and guitar echoes through the car as the song starts and you already feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. So when the first lines of, ‘when you were here before,’ leave your lips, you aren’t sure if you feel your heart mending itself, or if it’s salt being poured on the wound.

Because from behind you is Minghao’s voice, so deep and velvety and angelic it has you almost in a trance. He’s been good at singing, always, but now his voice sounds … mature, and developed and … and you love it.

You think back to the first time you sang Creep with him, and the lyrics already have you reminiscing when you both sing, ‘couldn’t look you in the eye,’ because goddammit you still struggle to look at Minghao for too long because you’re scared you’ll get lost.

And when it gets to the part before the bass is blaring in your ears, Minghao and you are singing, ‘I wish I was special, you’re so fuckin’ special,’ at the top of your lungs and you can’t help but let the irony sink in.

Now you’re pretty sure when Thom wrote Creep, he didn’t mean it to be about your love life, especially not the non-existent one between you and your brother’s best friend, but Thom is speaking to you right now, and you wonder if Minghao can hear the way you’re singing from your heart. How you’re singing for him.

When the song comes to an end, Minghao’s fingers brush over the nape of your neck one last time before he retreats back into his seat. You try to not mull on the feeling any longer, shaking your head of all of those thoughts when you near the restaurant.

“Here it is!” you chirp, parking the car on the curb. The three of you shuffle out of the car casually, making your way to the entrance.

“Looks nice,” Minghao comments as he opens the door for you and Jun. Your brother hops in merrily and you and Minghao both share a soft smile as you go inside too, your body nearly jerking when you feel his hand on the small of your back as he follows behind you.

His touch is warm and gentle and—fuck, does he know what he’s doing to you right now?

You’re more relieved than anything when he finally lets his arm drop, the three of you making your way to the table you booked. You were scared that if Minghao stayed close any longer, he’d be able to feel your heart beating through your chest.

You guys sit down at the table, Jun next to you while Minghao settles across the two of you. “So how’s your classes going?” he asks you as you look through the menu. “Jun said you had an exam today, right?”

“Yeah, it was my final one,” you tell him with a sigh of relief. “It was stressful preparing for it but it went better than I thought.”

“Good to hear,” Minghao says as a waiter comes along to pick up on your orders. After he leaves, Jun turns to you.

“What’s Yiren up to?” Jun asks you curiously. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.”

“She’s, uh, she’s good,” you reply. “I haven’t seen her in a while either … she went off to college in Korea, remember?”

Minghao chuckles, “Seems like everyone’s going there, huh? Maybe you should pull up too.”

You scrunch up your face and shake your head while you take a sip of water. “I think I like this place too much to leave. Plus, who’s going to take care of our old folks if I leave too?” you tease, nudging your brother in the side.

“Mom and Dad can take care of themselves just fine,” Jun shrugs, ruffling your hair as the waiter brings along some food.

“Looks good,” Minghao says, holding up some chopsticks as you all look down at the sizzling dishes in front of you.

“It is! See?” you say pointedly, looking up at Jun. “Imagine I moved to Korea—I wouldn’t be able to eat this.” Your brother only rolls his eyes and Minghao and you laugh together while you dig in.

As you work through your meal and catch each other up on your lives, Minghao eventually leans back in his seat and sighs heavily. “I’m really craving something sweet right now.”

“I’d say we should pick up some pastries from the cafe next door but they closed two hours ago,” you say sadly.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that place. They made the best chocolate buns ever,” Jun mutters to himself, polishing off his plate.

“Let’s go to the cafe tomorrow evening, yeah?” Minghao suggests as he takes a sip of water. At the suggestion, you chew at your lip.

“Uh, I don’t think I can go then,” you say, hoping they won’t pry any further.

Of course, your brother doesn’t allow you a second of peace. “Why not? Your last exam was today, right?”

“Yeah, but I have stuff to do,” you reply nonchalantly. Jun scoffs and tugs your ear, causing you to whine. “What was that for?!”

“You didn’t clear your schedule out for me? I thought you missed me! You know I have to leave in like a week,” he complains, and you and Minghao share an amused look as you nudge Jun on the side.

“Relax, you can have me in the morning and afternoon and everything … I just have to go somewhere for the evening.”

“You’re being really ominous about this, you know,” Jun retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where’re you going?”

You chew on your tongue, contemplating if this is the right moment to bring it up, or if you should even tell Jun and Minghao this at all. “I just have to see someone.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jun groans. “You’re literally asking me to pry. Tell me who—a boyfriend?” You chuckle nervously, eyes flickering between Minghao and your brother, shaking your head.

“No—not a boyfriend,” you say dryly, scoffing at the irony. “Remember Renjun? I told you about him when I was in freshman year.”

“Vaguely. Remind me who he is again?”

“He’s just a guy, and he has some of my stuff I need to pick up.” Both Minghao and Jun cock an eyebrow at you after that. “What?” you huff, leaning back in your seat.

“An ex?” Minghao asks and your face burns.

“I—yeah,” you say casually. “An ex.”

Jun frowns deeply. “I didn’t know you and Renjun ever dated. I didn’t even know you ever had a boyfriend,” he says, voice evidently upset that he was left out of this.

“It wasn’t that serious,” you pat his shoulder as to soften the blow. “Plus it happened when you were on tour—we hardly talked then.”

“Still! You could’ve told me!” You bite back a, ‘But could I really?’ because this isn’t the time or place for that.

“It’s whatever. I just need to pick up some stuff I left at his place and—”

“So it ended pretty recently then?” Minghao piques, and your eyebrows furrow, slightly annoyed by both of their belated interest in your love life.

“What, no! It’s been months and—wait, I don’t see how that’s any of your guys’ business,” you huff and Minghao backs off a little, but Jun still stays curiously leaning in.

“Whatever. You’ll be available to come with us to the lake on Friday though, right?” Jun asks, pulling out his phone and holding it up to your face to show you a picture of a lake house. “I booked a place to stay the night and all.”

“Of course I’m going to come—I’ve been looking forward to it!”

“Good,” Jun says gruffly, still somewhat glaring at you.

You give him a funny look. “What?”

“I’m still mad you never told me—you’re supposed to tell me this stuff! How else am I supposed to know that you’re doing fine on your own and actually growing up.”

“Oh my god, Jun, I’m an adult! Did you think I would never have boyfriends?”

“No! At least not without telling me!”

You chuckle and Minghao follows in suit, enjoying the little sibling bicker. “Okay fine. I’m sure I’ll be telling you every detail of my love life when it gets resurrected.”

Minghao snorts at your use of words, and you revel in the way the sound makes you feel. Fuck it, it’s been more than half a decade and you still get butterflies—you can’t fight away the feeling, so you might as well wallow in it.

You wonder what Jun would think about this—your love life being pulled and shaken by his own best friend. Oh well, some secrets are best kept hidden anyways.

“Here’s your stuff,” Renjun says softly, handing you a paper bag that’s stuffed with a wide array of your belongings.

“Thank you. Is my pink jacket in there? I’ve been looking for it for a while and I didn’t know if I left it at yours,” you ask timidly, holding the paper bag close to your chest.

He scratches the back of his head as he steps back, nodding. “Uh, yeah I think it’s at the bottom.” You peer down at the contents of your back, and give a half smile when you see the pink cloth peeking out from underneath.

“Thanks for taking care of my stuff. I know you’ve basically moved out and all.”

“No worries. Do you, uh, need a ride home or anything? It’s pretty cold.”

You purse your lips at the offer, but shake your head. “It’s fine …” There’s an awkward silence and you quickly wonder if you should say anything more. Renjun looks awfully … apologetic right now and you feel there’s some more you can say. “How’s your new place? Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, I flew up there a few weeks back to get some of my main stuff shipped. A nice apartment, way bigger than whatever I had here,” he says with an awkward chuckle. You appreciate the effort.

Nodding, you tighten your grip on the bag. “That’s good to hear. I hope it all goes well with you. I … I think I’ll be taking my leave now. My brother’s back in town so …”

“Oh yeah, I heard from Jianing. Hope you’re having a good time—I know you haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Thank you. Anyways, I’m gonna get going now. Thanks again,” you say as you step back, throwing out a small wave.

A half-hearted, “See you,” leaves Renjun’s lips as you turn on your heel and start walking back to the bus station. There’s no promise of seeing Renjun later, or ever again, and something cold sinks in your stomach at the thought.

The thought that this all could’ve been avoided if Renjun hadn’t gotten that stupid job offer hundreds of miles away. If he didn’t decide to pack his bags and fly away just like Jun, like Yiren, like Minghao. Renjun was leaving, just like everyone else.

You clutch the paper bag close to your chest as you make your way to the bus stop, one hand fumbling in the pocket of your jacket as you search for your wallet and within seconds you’re a frantic mess. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Shit, shit, shit!” you cry out when you drop your bag and pat frantically over your pockets to try and feel for your wallet.

Your digging into every crook of the coat and there’s a growing feeling of dread that washes over you once you realize that you lost your fucking wallet. Hands clenched at your side, you feel hot tears well up in your lash line as you stare down at the ground, letting in the shitty events of today sink in.

You don’t even know why you’re crying now. It’s hardly even cries, really, you’re downright sobbing as you plop down on the curb of the empty street, fumbling with your phone as you pull up Jun’s contact. Pressing the phone to your ear, you shut your eyes tight in an attempt to calm down your breath, but when you hear the line go dead you cry even harder, realizing that Jun is probably napping right now.

“Fuck my life,” you complain to yourself, letting your head hang low as you scroll through your phone. You aren’t even sure what compels you to click on him but before you know it you’re on speaker as you hear the buzzing of the phone as you wait for Minghao to pick up.

One ring. Maybe he’s busy.

Two rings. He might be looking for his phone.

Three rings. He probably won’t pick up.

Four rings, and you’re about to hang up but then it stops. “Minghao?”

Minghao’s voice is cool and calm when he says your name. “Do you—”

“I need your help,” you say so quietly you aren’t sure if he’ll be able to hear it. And then Minghao hears it: your soft pants and shaky breath and something about the sound has him squeezing his phone tightly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m—” No, I feel like shit and I’m freezing my ass off and it’s so cold and I need you to help me. “Can you pick me up? I lost my wallet which has my bus card. I’m sorry, I know it’s a little late and you’re probably busy but—”

“Send me your location.”

Minghao is pulling up in his black car within twenty minutes and by then you’ve had enough time to wipe the tears from your face and piece together yourself to look presentable. Rolling down the windows as you wave over to his car, you hear the doors click and you’re roughly yanking on the door and throwing your stuff and yourself in.

Minghao raises a brow at your ruckus, asking once again, “Are you okay?” When you only sigh heavily, buckling yourself up, you hope Minghao will just leave it alone. You’d rather not talk about the stupid breakdown you just had in front of your childhood crush.

Minghao clearly doesn’t get the message, so when he starts the engine again, he murmurs, “Have you been crying?” You purse your lips together tightly as if the question itself as the tears bubbling up to the surface once again. “Did meeting with Renjun not go well?” You’re surprised he remembers his name—Minghao was never great with names. “Can you say something? I’m worried.”

“Sorry,” you say softly, letting your shoulder drop down, and from the corner of your vision you see Minghao watching you carefully. “I-I just got overwhelmed. And it was cold. Really cold. And then—” You take a shaky breath. “—and I lost my fucking wallet on top of it and it’s all so shitty and—”

His hand is on your shoulder and you hardly realize that Minghao has pulled over and parked so he can turn to face you. You’re crying again and you don’t even know how this fucking happened, all you know is that there’s so much going on in your head and Minghao is right there, he’s so close but then again, he’s so far.

“Hey, hey calm down for a sec’,” he says calmly, gripping your arm firmly. “Breathe slowly, and tell me what happened.”

You inhale sharply through your nose and scrunch your face up as you bury your head in your hands. In your right mind, you wouldn’t even think about telling Minghao about what’s on your mind but it’s been a really terrible past hour and you can’t control yourself.

“Renjun’s leaving. Didn’t want to do long distance and so he’s gone and—fuck, I don’t even blame him but why’d he have to leave,” you ramble, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as Minghao pats your back gently.

“Did he say something to you when you met with him?” he asked, tone laced with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m just—are you o—okay please don’t cry.”

You don’t know why, but Minghao telling you to cry only makes the tears fall faster. “And Yiren—” you hiccup, “Yiren left too, I haven’t seen her in months and Jun a-a-and you—you’ve all been gone.” You don’t realize when Minghao grabs both your shoulders and forces you to face him completely.

“Slow down, please. No one’s left you, we’re all going to be here for you, you know that. Did Renjun say something which made you think like this?” he asks, the grip on your shaking shoulders growing tighter as you desperately try to steady yourself.

“N-no, but you’re not here. I hardly ever get to see my own brother and Yiren and you and Renjun and everything is so shitty I just—” you cry out and suddenly you stumble forward in the seat and before you know it Minghao’s arms are around you.

It’s not like you haven’t hugged him before but this is the first time you’re blubbering into his shoulder about your feelings, and if you weren’t so sad, you’d be fucking appalled. His warm hand is on your back, rubbing up and down slowly until you’ve finally found the conscience to actually breathe and realize just what’s going on.

Slowly, you pull away from Minghao’s hold, furiously wiping away at your face to dry yourself, looking down at your lap bashfully. “I am so sorry, what the fuck, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you blurt out when Minghao drops his hands from your shoulder. You miss the warmth, but you’re quite very embarrassed with yourself and don’t have the will to chase after his touch.

“Please don’t apologize,” Minghao replies softly, watching you with wide eyes. “That … was a lot and—”

“I’m sorry, look, I was just having a shitty day and it all piled up and you just—I don’t know I guess, let’s just pretend this never happened,” you beg with him. Minghao’s face looks like he wants to say more, but you really can’t tell with the way his eyes are clouded.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me.”

You gulp at the irony. No, you really can’t. You can’t tell Minghao anything, really, because even after crying and sobbing and wailing in his car he still looks at you with so much care and it has these stupid fucking butterflies erupting in your stomach like you’re fifiteen with a massive crush on your brother’s best friend.

“Can you just please drive me to my place?” you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I think I just really need to sleep.”

You can tell Minghao still has questions, but you don’t seem too willing to answer them so he doesn’t say anything when he nods and turns back to the road. The ride is silent, and when he finally parks he pats your shoulder.

You look out the window and furrow your eyebrows. “This isn’t my apartment complex …” you tell him, confused as you see a convenience store in front of you. The same one.

“C’mon, I know you love pop,” he says casually, unbuckling his seatbelt leaving you with no other choice to follow behind him. There’s an odd sense of deja vu that envelopes over you, shoving your pockets into your jacket shyly.

“Remember the last time we were here?” Minghao asks with a chuckle as you guys walk into the store.

“Don’t remind me,” you murmur. “That was a shitty day.”

Minghao gives you a nervous smile as he pulls out a can from the fridge and hands it to you, grabbing his own bottle as well. “Yeah, but Cola made it better, right?”

“I guess it did. Cola always makes things better,” you admit. “Hey, fuck you,” you say jokingly when Minghao pulls out his wallet. “You should’ve taken me here another time when I actually had my wallet—I need to pay you back for that day!” you whine with a pout. “Now I’m in debt to you twice! You’ve bought me two Colas!”

Minghao rolls his eyes playfully as he pays for the drinks. “Yeah well things are different now, and I’m pretty sure my wallet doesn’t care about the cost of two Colas.”

“Is Mr. Big and Famous too good for my money now?” you huff when you step back outside, opening your Cola. “I will pay you back, no matter how stupidly rich you get.”

“I’ll have to hold you to that,” Minghao laughs as you slip back into his car. The air is lighter as he drives you back to your place for real this time, and the lingering feeling of pop on your tongue is sweet and fun.

“Thank you for the ride. And the Cola,” you add when he’s in front of your building.

“You remember what I said?”

You nod as you step out of the car, picking up your brown bag. “Thank you so much for this. I’m sorry again.”

“Stop apologizing. Is there … is there anything else I can do? You want another Cola perhaps?”

“Very funny, but I don’t think I want to be jumping off the walls tonight …” you answer, closing the door but still peering through the open window. You think for a second as you chew your lip, nodding when you come up with something. “But do me a favor … don’t tell Jun.”

Jun takes you out to the lake house he booked three mornings after you met with Renjun and sobbed to Minghao in his car. It’s a refreshing turn of events, if you’re being honest, and you’re eager to sink into a relaxing weekend after a stressful exam season.

Your brother drives the three hours on the way with the promise of you driving on the way home hung over your head. When you reach the house—a medium sized cabin perched right by the lake and surrounded by trees and mountains—you’re greeted with the sight of Minghao sitting in his car and scrolling on his phone.

As you and Jun pile out of the car and grab your bags, Minghao comes out too, walking toward you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Thought you guys would never come. If you were gonna be late you should’ve just given me the keys to this place,” he says with a huff.

“Don’t blame me,” Jun shrugs, locking the car after you’ve both taken out your stuff, walking up to the cabin’s entrance. “She’s the one who wanted to stop and buy some pop.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want it either,” you retort, reaching into your tote bag to hand Minghao a can of Cola. “Here,” you offer with a smile which he returns gleefully.

“Okay actually, totally valid reason,” Minghao says, flicking open the can before taking a sip.

“Hey! Don’t be on her side,” Jun whines as he opens up the cabin. Minghao and you chuckle together, your heart warming at the sound as you three start to load your things into the house. Minghao doesn’t say anything about that night when he picked you up, and for that much you’re grateful. This much, you can manage.

By the time you all have settled your things into your respective rooms it’s noon and the sun pummels down with admirable strength. As you stick your head out of your room, you catch Jun making his way down the hallway toward the bathroom.

“You going for a swim?” you ask, gesturing down to your swimsuit that you’ve already eagerly put on.

“Nah, I’m gonna go later. I need to take a call right now,” he says with a sigh and you nod, about to retreat back to your room before Minghao walks out of his own room.

“I’ll go if you’re going,” Minghao tells you casually, and you don’t waste a second to nod. “Give me five so I can get changed and then we can go out.”

You jump down the hall excitedly after he closes the door behind him, making your way to the backyard porch which leads into a deck over the lake. As you place your towel on one of the chairs outside, you hear the sliding door open.

Minghao walks out shirtless, lower half only covered with his swim trunks as he runs a hand through his shaggy hair, shaking his head lightly as he makes his way towards you, placing his towel next to yours. “Thanks for waiting … shit, it’s hot as hell,” he murmurs, and you’re thankful that you’re facing away from him right now—you aren’t sure you’d be able to handle the proximity and the sight of his bare upper body.

“Yeah,” you agree, finally straightening your back and putting some distance between the two of you when you start walking towards the edge of the deck. “The water’s so clear,” you think out loud, looking down at the blue lake in front of you.

“It’s really pretty … you want a picture?” Minghao suggests, walking up behind you.

“I would, but I left my phone inside.”

“Let’s just take it on my phone,” he says casually, holding up his phone in front of you, waving at you to step back a little so he can take a picture. “A candid one would look pretty with this view—like you’re looking out at the lake and stuff,” he begins to say, placing a smooth hand on your shoulder so he can manually turn you around so that you’re facing away from him.

When he lets his hand drop, it brushes over the curve of your hip and you have to bite down on your lip to stop the pathetic whimper that threatens to escape your lips. Luckily, Minghao can’t see the pained expression that makes its way onto your face as he steps back holding up his phone.

“Okay ready …” he calls out from further behind. “Three … two … one!” You hear a faint tapping sound as you still, letting Minghao take the pictures as you wait patiently. It takes a few moments, and you’re about to ask him how much longer he’s going to go at it before you hear the sound of something being dropped, and then a few rattling thuds.

“Minghao, what—” you begin to question as you slowly turn on your heel but by then it’s too late. “WHAT THE F—”

Your scream is cut off short when Minghao runs forward and lunges at you, one arm wrapping itself around your waist as he jumps into the water, bringing you down with him. The cool water of the lake hits your body and the wind gets punched out of your lungs as you feel your limbs entangle with his. Instinctevely, your arms tighten around one of his as your eyes press closed tightly as you feel your warm body start to level with the temperature around you.

And so even as your legs kick around for a few panicked moments, you begin to feel oddly at peace when your head finally reaches the surface of the water, Minghao’s hand still steady over your hips as you gasp for air.

“You’re a bitch for that,” you say, a few choked giggles escaping your lips as you do. Minghao finally unwinds his arm from yours, and while you miss the contact, his body is still dangerously close to yours, and you figure that that is already more than you can manage.

Minghao smiles gleefully, pushing his face so close that it’s right up in front of you. “Mm maybe, but it was really funny. Got it on video too.”

“What?!” you screech, swimming backward so quickly that you hit  your head on the wooden platform of the deck. “Crap!” you exclaim, hand immediately flying up to press against the throbbing crown of your head. Minghao’s eyes widen with concern as he wades his way towards you, tall enough to still have his feet touch the lake bottom unlike you.

“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asks worriedly, his own hand coming up to feel the back of your head. His eyes are big and brown as he looks down at you, and for this moment, you forget about the dull ache and bask in the way the sun hits his skin so perfectly he glows.

“I’m fine!” you squeak quickly, letting your hand drop so you can tread in the water lightly, slowly moving a safe distance away from the deck.

“A-are you sure?” he probes, making his way to you, and you have a moment to admire him from afar—the way his hair is matted against his forehead and water drops gather at his lashes, making his eyes look prettier than ever.

You chuckle at the way his lips are pursed together apologetically, and you splash some water at him to lighten the mood. “Yes, Minghao, I’m great. I hardly hit myself.” Minghao’s face looks uneasy, and you laugh again.

It takes a few more minutes of you trying to convince him that you’re totally fine before he finally lets it go. Eventually, you find yourself on a big inflated duck-shaped floaty, laying down with your face up and eyes closed. You lose track of time, enjoying the white noise of Minghao splashing around in the water around you, drifting off into a hazy state until you hear a loud yell and feel yourself being flipped over and off your floaty.

“Jun!” you whine, rubbing your eyes as you furiously push hair off your face when you resurface, glaring at both Jun and Minghao laugh side by side. “You guys have to stop doing this to me,” you groan, eyes finally adjusting to its normal state.

“What are you talking about?” Jun asks innocently as you make your way over to the two of them, not bothering to turn your duck floatie back up right. “It was just an accident I fell on you—hey!” he yells out when you lunge at him. Minghao steps back quickly as you and Jun waddle and fight in the water, splashing water at each other while you try and get your revenge.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry,” Jun admits with a pout. “You didn’t do this to Minghao after he dunked you in the water,” he complains as you release him.

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“He sent me the video.”

“Minghao!” you exclaim, turning to the boy who is now treading around a meter in front of you. He only shrugs and grins cheekily.

“It was really funny,” Jun tells you with a laugh. “I might just post it on my story.”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare.”

Jun only shakes his head and starts slowly swimming further into the lake. “Don’t worry—I wouldn’t do that. Minghao can’t have any dating rumors, now can he?”

You chew on your lip, not responding. Minghao doesn’t say anything either, only chuckling along with your brother as he follows after him. You aren’t sure what to say to that, and the comment leaves some uneasy feeling hanging in your stomach.

Fuck, maybe you did hit your head hard.

You three spend a good few hours out in the lake until it’s evening. It’s a slow day and you start to realize just how much you missed spending time with your brother and Minghao like this—it isn’t often they get the opportunity to do things like this, so you’re grateful that they decided to share some of their few days of peace with you.

The second day is even hotter than the first, and you wake from your sleep early in the morning when the sky is still blooming with purple and orange hues. Crawling out from your bed, you make your way downstairs. If it was just you and your brother, you wouldn’t be so mindful about keeping your noise levels down because god knows that Jun can sleep through just about anything, but, Minghao is with you guys now, and you’d hate to sour his experience even just a little by accidentally waking him up for being too loud.

So you can imagine your surprise when you walk into the kitchen to see Minghao already leaning against the counter as he scrolls through his phone. He hasn’t noticed you and you contemplate leaving it like that for a few moments.

He’s wearing a tight fit, black, sleeveless top that shows off the curve of his shoulders and lets the sparkle of his silver chain glint under the morning light. Minghao is attractive—you and the millions of people in his comments know that—and you feel an odd sense of pride well up in your stomach that you’re one of the few people who get to see him like this.

With his hair messy and brushing over his eyes, legs crossed over each other as he presses his body weight against the kitchen island, bare skin glowing from the natural light, he’s beautiful.

Your face heats up when you realize you’ve just been staring at him, so you quickly clear your throat. “Good morning,” you chirp, walking into the kitchen so he can finally see you.

Minghao looks up from his phone, tucking it into the pocket of his sweatpants to greet you with a smile. “Hey, I didn’t know you were up. How’s your head doing?” he asks shyly, walking over to casually run his hand over that same spot on the crown of your head.

It’s an oddly intimate gesture, and if you didn’t know any better, your heart might have given out from the way he was touching you. Still, you know he’s just checking to see if it’s swollen, but your heart flutters anyways.

“I-it’s fine,” you reply, opening the fridge to pull out some orange juice as his hand drops. “I didn’t know you were an early riser. Jun always sleeps in whenever he gets the chance.”

“Yeah, well that’s why he’s paged as a literal cat by everyone,” Minghao says with a chuckle as you place a jug on the counter. “Do you want some tea? I’m just boiling the water now so I can add some more if you want.”

“Sure, that’ll be nice.” You pour yourself some orange juice. “Do you want to eat something? I brought some cupcakes to have for breakfast,” you offer, reaching into one of the bags you didn’t unpack to pull out a box.

“Are they those cupcakes?”

“Yup—the one and only!” you exclaim, opening the lid to show him. Minghao grins, pulling two out.

“God, I missed these. Y’know, Jun actually gave your recipe to Mingyu too, but he just doesn’t make them the same,” Minghao tells you, and your eyes light up.

“Really? Poor Mingyu,” you say with a sigh.

“If you ever end up visiting us in Korea, you should really make some,” Minghao suggests as he goes to take care of the boiling water, dropping some tea leaves into it before moving the water into a pot. Then, pulling out two small cups and plates, he says, “Me and Jun have told the others about how good you make them, but they really need to try them.”

“I’d love to,” you say with a grin, giddy with the way Minghao is boosting your ego. As he pours out the tea into two mugs, you put the cupcakes on the small plates, looking out to the glass sliding door which leads to the porch by the lake. “You want to eat outside? The sky looks really beautiful now, and the weather looks like it’s nice too.”

Minghao nods, holding up the two mugs while you grab the plates and follow him outside and onto the little shaded porch where you sit by two of the chairs and the small, knee level coffee table. The sky is still deep in its changing colors, and you pull out your phone to take some pictures.

“Can you take some pictures of me? For my WeVerse and Instagram and stuff?” he asks when you’re done, holding out his phone in your direction.

“Yeah, of course.” Leaning back after you grab his phone, you position yourself as Minghao poses. “Lean back a little more so the background can—yeah, perfect …” You take a few photos, and Minghao nods happily when you show him.

“Can you take some more candid ones?”

“Sure, let’s switch spots. I think it’ll look nicer if it looks like you’re looking out to the lake from here,” you suggest, getting up from your seat. Minghao complies without protest and you spend a few more minutes taking some pictures before finally handing him the phone. “You like them?”

“Hell yeah I do,” he says, looking through his phone. “You’re great at this,” he compliments sincerely.

“I’m used to taking the kinda pictures you guys like now … Jun has trained me well,” you joke, sitting back in the seat and reaching for your own cup of tea. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both relax and watch the sky grow brighter by the minute.

Jun wakes up an hour later, trudging out his room with groggy eyes as you poke fun of him. The morning is slow for a short while after that before Minghao is reminding you all that you need to start heading back home. The two of them are leaving for Korea in two days, after all, and that leaves them with only today and tomorrow to completely bask in themselves and the rest of their family, so you pack your things and end your stay at the cabin before the clock hits noon.

That night, after you drive yourself and Jun home and you retreat to the comfort of your apartment, you flop down onto your couch and pull out your phone. You’re met with a few notifications from WeVerse and Instagram, casually scrolling through the apps when your eyes catch a few familiar pictures.

It’s on Instagram and you recognize the bright orange of the rising sky that sits behind Minghao who is smiling into the camera. The next picture is a candid one of him looking at the lake while he drinks some tea, and the third is a picture of the cupcake you made.

You grin at the picture—the rest of the world won’t know it, but you definitely do—it’s a little piece of you that Minghao is sharing with the world. Though, you aren’t sure if he put as much thought into it as you are right now.

Brushing it off as Minghao just wanting to share a pretty picture of a nice looking cupcake, you purse your lips together only for them to be parted when you read his caption.

i’m a weirdo

Scrolling through the comments, you come across people saying, many among the following:

ur not a weirdo >:c fellow radiohead fanatic i see is the8 a certified creep? o: i didn’t know minghao liked radiohead … another reason to stan!

As you ignore the increased palpitating of your heart at the idea that Minghao quoted a line from, in your opinion, “your guys’ song.” you sit and think for a moment about what to do. You consider just liking the post and scrolling past it before a funny thought crosses your mind, and so you start typing into the comments.

i wonder who took these pics lol

No one’s going to see it. Minghao is definitely not going to see it, but you giggle to yourself anyways. You’re about to put your phone down when you get a notification of a reply to your comment. Curious, you open it up, and see that it’s just a random person.

imagine it’s his gf

You laugh to yourself. You wish.

The last day or two with Jun goes as they always do when he’s here—slow, but all that you need. He spends his time at your parents house and you stop by for lunch and dinner the day after you both return from the lake house.

The afternoon, you both went down to the cafe and stocked up on chocolate buns—Jun’s request—and spent the rest of your time until evening going over your plans for the rest of the summer. You enjoy this part, always. Not Jun leaving—of course not—but spending these tame moments with him.

It makes you wonder what things would have been like if he never left. Maybe he’d move out for university someplace else, but you’d get to see him more, probably. Get to hang out with him every weekend, instead of every two months.

You shake yourself off the thought as you drive to your parents house. Having Jun around more often would be nice, but there isn’t any point in dreaming about the impossible.

As you pull up to the driveway and park your car, you notice Minghao standing out by the front door with his suitcase and a bag. “Hey, looking for Jun?”

“Well, yeah. Of course I wanna say bye to you both before you go … is the van here yet?”

“Nah, it’s still taking some time but Jun is on the other side of the house to see if the car is gonna come from that side,” he explains.

“I’m gonna miss you guys … you know when you’re both going to come next?” you ask, voice softer than you anticipated.

“I really don’t know—I’m sorry. You know how things are.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, shoulders deflating as you look down at the ground..

“I know—it’s not … it's not easy for Jun, either, I can tell. It isn’t easy for any of us to leave.” When Minghao finishes speaking you only nod, and as your eyes meet,you feel like there’s something he wants to say. “Hey,” he murmurs quietly.

A heavy hand is placed on your shoulder, and you feel you might as well sink to the ground and let the earth swallow you up. “If you’re going to talk about—”

“Hear me out, yeah?” Minghao cuts you off, and when you open your mouth in protest, he continues. “Don’t …” he inhales deeply before saying, “Don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way, okay?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “That really depends on what you’re going to say.”

“Okay, just … just listen. Jun, and me, and Yiren, and Renjun—” God, why is he bringing this up? “—we aren’t trying to hurt you.”

“Of course I know that.” Your eyebrows knit together and Minghao sighs at your reaction, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You miss the touch, but your mind is a little too preoccupied with trying to decipher Minghao’s words to dwell on it.

“I’m just saying … you shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.” You open your mouth and then close it, trying to figure out how the hell he expects you to respond to this.

“What d’you mean?”

“Well I mean,” he huffs before continuing, shoving his hands in his pockets, “you obviously have been … upset about people leaving you and you can’t expect everyone to stick around forever.”

“If you’re talking about Renjun, he was my boyfriend. I think it’s okay for me to expect someone who I’m dating to ‘stick around,’ even though it might not be forever.”

“I guess, but it’s not just Renjun, right? Jun … Yiren … me …” he voice trails off.

“I basically spent my whole middle and high school years around you and Yiren, and Jun is literally my brother. Do you think me wanting the people I quite literally grew up around to be here for me is being ‘dependant?’”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I mean we were all going to grow up eventually? Look, don’t take this the wrong way and—”

“Excuse me?” you blurt out harshly, taking a step back, scoffing before you continue. “I wouldn’t be taking this the wrong way if you obviously didn’t mean it the wrong way. You basically just said I’m not independent.”

Minghao frowns at your reaction before responding, “I didn’t say that. I just said you shouldn’t depend on anyone.”

“Which implies that I am depending on people unnecessarily!”

Minghao adjusts his backpack straps as he says, “I mean you did cry for quite a while about how people are leaving you. I just don’t want you to get more hurt by being dependent on others.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you shoot sarcastically, “but I’m not dependent on anyone. I was upset that night because all the people closest to me have moved away and if you ask any normal person, I’m pretty sure they’d agree that that’s a valid reason to cry a little. So sorry if that was too much for you.” You say the last part with disgust laced on your tongue, and you watch Minghao’s face grow increasingly sour as you go on.

“Okay, now you’re just twisting my words,” Minghao huffs, glancing around to make sure that no one is close by.

“What the hell Minghao,” you scoff, clenching your fists at your side. You don’t want to be the person to jump down his throat, but you can’t help but feel like you’re being talked down to. “Why—why are you acting like I’m still a little kid. I’m more than Jun’s little sister, you do know that right?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Minghao retorts, eyebrows rising in a mix of disbelief and irritation. “You think that’s what this is about? For fuck’s sake I’m just looking out for you.”

“Exactly!” you exclaim, pointing an accusing finger at him. “There’s no reason for that! Like I said, I’m not some little girl anymore and I’ve been looking out for myself for years. You just happened to catch me in a moment where I let myself be sad about it which, again, is a totally valid thing to be sad about.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Well congratulations! You were unsuccessful,” you mumble out, feeling an ugly knot build up in your throat. “I trusted you,” you say softly, and Minghao looks at you with eyes so apologetic you almost think about forgiving him. “That night after I saw Renjun—I-I trusted you,” you add more harshly this time. “And I cried to you even though we haven’t properly spoken in fuck knows how long and you take all that and make me out to seem like some sort of defenseless kid—”

“Can you stop—you’re putting words into my mouth. I never said you were defenseless or not independent or anything like that—I don’t even know why you think I would think of you like that because you know that’s not true.”

“Minghao, I don’t know if you’ve realized but it’s been years since we've talked properly. Just because—” You take a deep breath before continuing your bitter words. “—just because you get to live your stupidly amazing life with my brother by your side doesn’t mean that you know me and that I know you, because clearly we don’t know each other at all!”

“I’m sorry?” he says exasperatedly. “Sorry I care about you or whatever, even though things have changed.”

You scowl, and in your right mind you wouldn’t let your next words slip out of your mouth. “Well don’t. I’ve been fine without your sympathy so far, I’m pretty sure I can go on a bit longer.”

Minghao is about to respond, you can tell from the way his hands fiddle at his sides, but then there’s a buzzing and you reach into your pocket to pull out your phone. “Hey Jun,” you say, answering the call without meeting Minghao’s gaze. “… Yeah, he’s with me, we’re just waiting for the car … okay I’ll tell him.”

Tucking the device back into your pocket, you look at Minghao. “Jun is asking for you on the other side of the house. You should go,” you say flatly and you can tell from the look on his face that he wants to say more, but holds back.

Grabbing his suitcase, he tears his eyes from you and doesn’t look back after saying, “See you,” walking away and around the corner of the street. There’s that similar chill that takes over your body when Minghao says the same words Renjun said just a few nights before, and you silently wonder if this is history repeating itself.

“So,” Yiren says as she plops down onto your couch, kicking her feet up onto your coffee table. “How’d meeting with Renjun go? He give you your shit back?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” you grumble as you walk over and nudge her legs to get her to put them down. “And you can’t just flop down and sit! Put your suitcase away so it’s not in the middle of the room,” you order, trying to be stern as Yiren sticks her tongue out at you.

“So bossy—your best friend is visiting your cute little abode and you can’t help her out with her stuff?” Yiren juts out her bottom lip into a pout as you sit next to her and wrap your arms around her waist, sinking into the couch. “Okay what’s going on. You’re being extra snappish …” she asks a bit more seriously, pulling away from your hold to get a better look at you. “Was it Renjun? Did he say something before he left?”

“No!” you say quickly, looking away bashfully, leaning back against the arm rest. You fucking wish you were in this sour mood because of Renjun because you could manage that. Renjun is gone, and it would hurt but you’d get over it.

You aren’t sure how long it’ll take to get over Minghao, if you ever do at all.

“Are you lying to me? You know I can tell when you’re not telling the truth.”

“I am telling the truth.” Just not all of it, you think to yourself.

Yiren sighs loudly, sitting up straight and facing you completely. “You are so bad at this. C’mon tell me—what’d he say? Or was it not Renjun—Jun? Which Jun was it? Did you and Jun fight?”

“I—”

“Like that one time two years ago and you didn’t talk to each other until he came back a month later and—”

You cringe at the memory, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Yiren don’t bring that up. I hated that.”

“Okay sorry,” she says sheepishly. “But seriously—what was it? Renjun? Jun? Which one? Or wait—Min—oh my gosh, don’t tell me it was Minghao!” When you take more than a second to respond, Yiren gasps. “Oh god, it was Minghao.”

She stands up quickly, looking down at your figure on the couch. Before you can say anything, she turns on her heel and walks towards your kitchen. “Hey, where are you going!” you call out to her, sitting upright.

Yiren doesn’t respond, only reaching into the fridge and pulling out two cans of pop. Walking back, she sits down in front of you and hands you a Cola, opening her own Sprite herself. “C’mon, you need to tell me about this. The pop is just here for emotional support.”

You narrow your eyes at her. You thought you were dealing with the effects of your argument with Minghao perfectly fine, but as you look down at the cold can in front of you, an uneasy feeling bubbles up in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you set the can down on your coffee table, leaving it unopened.

Yiren gapes at you with wide eyes. “You’re not going to have it?” Neck hanging low, you shake your head, and you hear her gasp quietly. “Oh my gosh, you just turned down a Cola,” she mutters, grabbing a pillow and pushing it in your direction. “Okay now you need to tell me what’s going on.” She pauses, shuffling closer, adding softly, “It’s okay, you can cry.”

And just like that, the dam breaks and stray tears fall from your lashes as you clutch the pillow close to your chest, blubbering your mind away to your best friend.

“I don’t even get it—I thought I was over him?” you question aloud. “Like when I was with Renjun I was happy and I didn’t think about Minghao because Renjun was great and he was so nice but he just—” you choke back a sob and Yiren pats your back.

“But he left,” she murmurs softly and you want to cry harder because Yiren left too, but then you remind yourself of what Minghao said. Taking a deep breath, your wipe your face of your tears and although your lips still quiver, you start to speak.

“It’s okay,” you mutter, because it isn't like you haven’t cried over this before. “I just—I guess I haven’t really tried hard enough.”

“Tried to … what exactly?”

You huff, throwing your back onto the couch as you look up at the ceiling. “You know: get over him.”

Yiren chuckles a little, and even through your sniffles, you laugh with her. “What are you saying—you gonna fuck around now?”

“Maybe not fuck around,” you say, crossing your legs. “More like … have some fun.”

“So basically fuck around.”

“Yiren!”

“Oh c’mon—you need me to set you up with someone? My sister knows a lot of—”

You nudge her playfully. “What happened to ‘Ms. I Want Half of the Proceeds from your Wedding with Minghao?’”

“First of all,” Yiren waves a finger at you pointedly, “I only asked for 25%, but if you two can come back from this, I will be asking for at least 50% because I have been rooting for you two since day one.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s trying to set me up with other guys?”

“That’s only because you come first to me. Your relationship with Minghao—”

“The nonexistent one,” you correct and Yiren glares at you.

“Okay fine. Your nonexistent relationship with Minghao comes second. I want to see you happy. If you get to be happy with Minghao that’s just an added plus because, you know, 50% of all the gifts and—”

“You’re getting 25% max.”

“Don’t worry. There’s still time for plenty of negotiation and—”

“Yiren!”

You don’t live up to Yiren’s expectations—in her words, she wanted you to have a hot girl summer, but you couldn’t be bothered to go through with it. Well, sort of.

The next two months go along as your summers usually do. You take up a job near your apartment, working through the morning and afternoon, spending your evenings at home or occasionally out with Jianing.

Jianing doesn’t know much about anything when it comes to your (nonexistent) relationship with Minghao, and you figure she doesn’t need to. When you need a distraction, all it takes is a quick message asking her to accompany you for whatever endeavors you have going on for the night and she’s on board.

It’s a slow summer, but you don’t really mind. Not burdened with the stress of your classes and with Jun and Minghao gone for the next two months for their own performances and promotions, you have time to focus on yourself.

Occasional parties, indulging in hobbies, daily walks in the mornings, late nights of binge watching TV shows, outings with Jianing—it’s all a part of a simple routine that you’ve curated to do one thing, and one thing only: relax.

It’s only near the end of the summer, around three weeks before your classes are set to resume, that Jun calls you to let you know he’s coming home with Minghao. He seems pretty casual about it, and you’re reminded about how Minghao probably didn’t mention anything about your argument to your brother, which you’re thankful for.

It’s a passing thought that you’ll have to figure out how you want to act when you finally face him again. Whatever. That’s a problem for another time. Right now, you relax.

That problem for another time seems to have become a problem for now. Jun came home two days ago and things were alright—no run-ins to Minghao and you spend time with your brother like you usually do whenever he returns: with bickering and meals.

It’s only on the third day that things become a little … a little iffy. Your brother texts you in the evening to get ready quickly because he’s stopping by with Minghao for dinner at his place, and it’s all happening so quickly that you don’t have time to come up with an excuse.

So here you are, throwing on your sacred pink jacket because it’s the first thing in your vision, some old jeans, and waiting outside your apartment building much less enthusiastically than you’d like. It’s only a matter of minutes before your phone buzzes with a text from Jun letting you know he’s here and you see Minghao’s car pulling up in front of you.

Making your way to the back door where you usually sit with the two of them, you furrow your brows seeing Jun sitting in your usual spot.

“Sit in the front,” Jun orders when you go to open the back door, “I wanna lay down.” You shrug, making your way to the passenger seat as Jun settles into the back, resting his head on the window while kicking his legs up onto the other two seats.

“Hi,” you say quietly to Minghao who nods and speaks his own quick greeting, averting his attention to the wheel in front of him without much more than that.

“Please,” he huffs, watching Jun through the rear view mirror, “don’t put your shoes on the seats. I just had the car cleaned.” Jun clicks his tongue and kicks his shoes off, continuing to lay back in the seat as Minghao starts the car. The ride is silent as he drives toward the restaurant, both you and Jun on your phones while Minghao has his eyes trained on the road.

Once he parks in front of the place, you watch from the corner of your vision to see Minghao unbuckling his seatbelt before your brother speaks up.

“You guys can wait here, I’m gonna grab the food,” Jun says, slipping in his shoes and making his way to the restaurant, leaving you and Minghao in thickening silence. His hands are resting on his thighs and you press your head on the window, looking out as you try to focus on anything but this.

“Uh,” Minghao clears his throat, and you silently brace yourself for what he might say. “Nice jacket.”

Oh.

Glancing down at what you’re wearing, you twiddle with the hem of the familiar pink jacket. You wonder if this is Minghao’s way of holding out a figurative olive branch, and then you think harder about if you’re willing to accept it. “Thanks,” you reply, matting a hand over your hair before turning your attention to Jun who’s walking towards your car now.

Slipping into the back seat, he shakes the plastic bag in the air as he buckles himself in. “Takeout secured. Let’s go back to your place now,” Jun says, tapping on Minghao’s shoulder from behind. There’s an odd tension in the air, and you don’t doubt that Jun feels it, although he keeps his mouth shut about it.

No one says a word until Minghao is parking in his driveway and unlocking the front door. You follow behind the two of them, Jun grabbing the food as you enter Minghao’s house.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jun asks, putting the takeout bag on the coffee table of the living room as you all begin to settle down.

You shrug off your coat as you say, “Uh, I have to go back to my place and go out for the afternoon and evening with Jianing. Me and her have this little monthly date day thing, and we’re going to the city.”

“Wha-a-a-t,” Jun drawls out, a frown etched onto his face. You narrow your eyes at him, shrugging.

“What? It’s not like you’re leaving right after tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I’m not here for long. I wanted to do something tomorrow, since I might be doing stuff after that!” Jun whines, pointing at Minghao. “We might be going to this cool store and take some pictures and stuff.”

You huff, slightly annoyed as you flop down on a couch. “Okay well can’t you do that tomorrow then? I already have plans.”

Jun pouts, and if he wasn’t so on your nerves right now, you would poke some fun at him. “Why-y-y? You knew I was coming this week!”

“Well it’s not like I can clear my schedule for you. If you wanted to do something you should’ve told me earlier!”

“I let you know last week I was coming down!”

“Jun,” you say with a half laugh, noticing the way Minghao’s eyes have been flickering back and forth between you two through the whole conversation, “one week is not enough time to change some plans. I’ve been meeting with Jianing consistently at this time of month for over a year!”

“But still—”

“It’s not like if I showed up to Korea whenever the time’s convenient for me, you’d drop everything you’re doing to spend time with me!” you exclaim.

Jun’s fists ball at his side before he says, “That’s because my job is important and—”

“The stuff I do in my life might not seem important to you but it is very much important to me. Sorry I’ve made commitments to other people before I even knew you were coming, but I don’t know why you’d expect me to drop all my plans just for you. It’s not even like we aren’t going to see each other afterwards too.”

“Well I’d only hope that’s the case—I only ever see you once every few months so sorry for wanting to take some of your time.”

“Guys—” Minghao starts to say, standing between the two of you but when both you and Jun glare at him, he steps back.

“Do you think your time is worth more than mine or something?” you scoff at Jun, ignoring Minghao.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly did you mean it like then?” you hiss.

Jun sucks in a breath between clenched teeth and runs a hand through his hair. “You know what I meant. Things are just—they’re different. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right yeah. I won’t understand because I don’t have all these girls throwing themselves at me, making me think I’m entitled to everyone’s damn time.” Maybe you crossed a line with that one, but you’re too angry to care now. Hot tears well up in your lash line, threatening to fall any moment now.

“You were the one who was being a brat when you found out I was going to go to Korea in the first place!” Jun exclaims. “Fucking hell, why are you making such a big deal out of me wanting to spend some time with you now?”

Your face screws up into some kind of ugly frown at the words, and you clench your fists as your side. “A brat?” you repeat. “A brat? Is that seriously what you think of me?

“Well you did make a pretty damn big scene about me leaving, so yeah, maybe I do feel entitled to some of your time seeing that you were the one who was desperate for it in the first place.”

“Desperate? Are you kidding me—desperate? I was sixteen and you dumped the fact that you were moving away in like less than two months on me —of course I was upset but desperate? Well fuck you too I guess.” You punctuate the last word by turning on your heel, grabbing your coat off and marching past Minghao and over to the door.

You don’t hear Jun say anything after you do, and for that you are grateful because you don’t think you’ll be able to handle hearing his voice again. Walking out the foyer past the door, you stomp your way to your car, forcefully yanking the driver’s seat open and plopping yourself down with a heavy thud.

Without a word, you press your forehead against the steering and scream a loud and painful, “FUCK!” You can’t even remember a damn thing you or Jun said but all that throttles in your head is the word brat and you feel you might just pull the steering wheel off your stupid car and tear just about everything else apart too.

The prospect is pretty tempting, actually, and in your red, you continue to hit your head, albeit gently, against the wheel as you mutter incoherent curses to yourself. The thud of your skull against the smooth letter rings in your ears until it becomes all that you can hear, so loud that it almost drowns out the knocking sound that comes from outside.

“Holy shit!” you gasp, when you see Minghao from the corner of your vision, standing outside your car with his lips pressed into the thin line. Rolling down your windows, you grimace. “You fucking scared me so bad. Please never creep up on me like that again.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t fucking storm out like that again then,” Minghao says, and your eyes widen slightly when you hear his voice. It’s harder, firmer, more serious than you’ve ever heard before.

“What are you—”

“You can’t drive when it’s night and you’re sobbing—”

“I am not sobbing,” you fruitlessly choke out, wiping some tears off your cheek as you straighten your back and glare at him.

“Look I get you’re mad at Jun and all but can you please calm down and talk to me so—”

You let out a humorless laugh as you begin to roll your windows back up. “Don’t even get me started on you.”

Minghao clicks his tongue as he sticks a hand into your window to stop it from going up any further, looking sideways for a second before turning back to you. “Okay well I don’t want you to drive yourself home like this. It’s not safe.”

“I am not staying here tonight.”

“Then let me drive you home,” Minghao suggests and you open up to object but no words come out. “You agree? C’mon, step out.” You let out nothing more than a huff as you open the door, slipping out quickly and shuffling to the other side where you sit with your arms crossed over your chest, bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

Minghao has already taken your spot, hands on the same steering wheel that you were planning on smashing with your head just minutes ago. He’s quiet for a few moments as he backs out of the driveway and starts driving down the street, the car echoing nothing but your soft sniffles that haven’t seemed to stop.

When Minghao opens his mouth again, you’re bracing yourself for a round of chiding, but all that comes out is a one-word question. “Pop?” He takes your silence as a confirmation, and soon enough Minghao is pulling up to that same convenience store. “Do you want me to get it for you?” he asks after he’s parked in front of the convenience store.

You purse your lips together, finally letting yourself turn to look at him. You really want to be mad at him but when you catch the way his fingers are shoved into his pockets, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he awaits your answer, you start to realize that Minghao might be just as apprehensive about this as you are.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, unbuckling your seatbelt so you can get out, Minghao following you quickly.

You’re the first to walk in this time, grabbing a Cola for yourself before looking at Minghao with a raised brow. When he nods, you toss him another can and he makes his way to the cash register. He’s about to pull out his wallet when you’re brushing past him and getting there first, holding up your card to the machine proudly.

“Just because I don’t want to be in any more debt to you,” you murmur, handing Minghao a can after you’ve paid for them both. You lead the way, walking out of the door and slotting yourself into the passenger seat of your car and Minghao gets into the seat next to you, turning on the engine.

You’re still quiet when he starts driving towards your apartment building, and you think that this is the perfect chance for you to drown in the silence. Maybe if you pretend you’re alone, you’ll be able to forget about all the thoughts running through your mind.

Pressing your eyes shut, you slump down into your seat and just as you’re about to let your mind drift into the silence, you hear a familiar rattle of the snare and guitar bridge and your eyes snap open, staring at Minghao directly. He faces forward, eyes trained on the road as he pulls closer to the curb in front of your complex, sighing deeply when the car starts to slow down.

“What are you trying to do Minghao?” you finally say weakly, burying your face in your hands. “You—you’re playing Creep and you took me to get Cola and all you were supposed to do was take me home so—”

“Can I not try to make you feel better? I don’t want you to be upset, so I’m sorry if I’m trying to do the things I know you enjoy,” Minghao responds with a heavy breath, parking in front of your building just like that night he did when he picked you up from the bus stop after you met with Renjun.

The deep strumming of guitar and vibrations of the bass bounce off the walls of your car, and you slip into your seat as the words of the song sink in.‘What the hell am I doing here?’ Glancing up at Minghao, your vision grows blurry. “Minghao …” your voice is quiet and strained when you call for him, and in that moment, you know.

All those years ago when you wanted to kiss him and hold him and pull him close, but you didn’t because you were scared. When you wanted to let your tongues collide and tug at his hair, but you didn’t because you had so much to lose.

You still have so much to lose, but you’re not scared anymore.

And it seems Minghao isn’t either.

Tonight, you get to taste the lingering drops of Cola on his tongue. You get to feel his arms fumbling over the armrest, slipping around your waist and yanking you onto his lap. You get to hold his neck and let your fingers sit in his hair. You get to indulge.

Minghao’s mouth is hot against yours, tongue lapping at your bottom lip when you take a sacred moment to breathe on top of him before your eyes are fluttering back shut and your lips mold into one once again. He hugs you so close you don’t know how you can still breathe, don’t know how your bones don’t melt into each other in this burning moment.

Your lips work fervently to slide against each other in a wet, calculated mess that has you whimpering into Minghao’s mouth when one of his hands cups your jaw. His thumb is soft against your cheekbone when he tilts your head to the side so that your noses brush against either and his lips delve deeper into the caverns of your mouth.

You don’t know how long you two go at it, fingers grappling at whatever skin you can, Minghao’s hand brushing under your shirt and stroking the plush of your hips. And when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore because your heart is so full, you pull away, letting the thin string of saliva connect your shiny lips.

Your brain is foggy and you and Minghao simply sit in the comfortable silence. Well, almost comfortable silence.

You shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.

“W-wait,” you stutter when Minghao leans forward in hopes to catch your lips in another fleeting kiss. “Oh my god,” you mutter to yourself, pushing his shoulders back against the seat as you try to shuffle off his lap.

Minghao holds your waist tightly, but you break free of the grasp. “What are you doi—hey, wait a sec!”

“You said you’re trying to make me feel better but you just did exactly the opposite,” you scoff, slipping on your coat as you push the car door open.

“What are you talking abo—” You cut him off by slamming the door, and Minghao quickly grabs your keys and follows after you. “Slow down.”

You whip around to face him, tears streaming down your face for what feels nth time tonight. “Look, you left like two months ago spewing all this stuff about how I should be independent but the second you come back you act like you’re trying so hard to make me feel better and stuff and then—” You take a deep breath, “—then we makeout and you—fuck I don’t know, I don’t know what you expect from me! Do you just expect me to forget about this and not get upset when you leave again?” you choke out. “Just keep my keys and drive yourself back to your place. I’ll pick up my car later,” you mutter.

“Can you stop doing this? It’s just like what happened last time, and I don’t want to have to leave if you’re—if we’re not okay.”

“What ‘we?’ Weren’t you the one who told me to not expect anyone to stay? I’m not going to do this ‘we’ and ‘us’ thing with someone who is just going to leave all over again. I’m not going to expect you to stay.”

“Look, I just don’t want this to be hanging over your head when I’m gone.”

Ironic, you think to yourself. You want to tell Minghao that he’s been hanging over your head ever since you met him all those years ago, but you bite back the words.

“Minghao,” you say, your voice strained and tired, “I’m already exhausted and my brain isn’t working so can you please just give me my space.”

And if Minghao is one thing, it’s not pushy, and you know that this is all it takes to get him to back off. Though, you don’t miss the way his face falls as he steps back quietly.

“See you,” he mutters through gritted teeth as he turns on his heel, and you can’t tell if you’re relieved or bothered by the way he leaves so silently.

You don’t see Minghao or Jun after that night. They’rewere  supposed to leave for Korea in the next four days, and so you spend those four days lodged up in your apartment, not leaving unless absolutely necessary—you’re scared that you might run into one of them, as pathetic as that sounds.

Jun doesn’t text you and you don’t text him. It’s a bit abnormal, you two communicate at least once every two days, if not more. It’s a bit of an unspoken rule, but now that you’re both hot-headed and very much not in the right mind, you figure some rules are meant to be broken.

It’s two days after Jun and Minghao were scheduled to leave, the only confirmation that you got that they actually did leave being the group picture at the airport your father sent to the family group chat.

Jianing comes to your apartment when you finally call her over, quickly picking up on your sullen state.

“I don’t get it,” she says with a shrug after you explain to her everything that happened between you and Jun and Minghao.

“Well yeah, I guess you don’t, but this has been going on for a while,” you reply begrudgingly, sinking into your couch as she stares at you blankly from your armchair.

“Just—I dunno—talk to them?”

You give her a funny look. “How?” you groan, throwing your head back. “They won’t be back for like a month at least, and I don’t want to call them.”

“I forget they’re famous sometimes” Jianing mutters, rolling her eyes, and you laugh at the comment.

“You and me both,” you say, straightening your back.

“But still, I don’t get it. I mean just visit them?” she suggests casually.

“I can’t just fly up to Korea unannounced!” you exclaim, bewildered.

Jianing rolls her eyes at you and you frown. “Why not? I mean you just said this might go on for a while if you don’t talk to them so I don’t get it. Just go see them.”

YOURS TRULY

you: chan i need ur help [8:13 AM] chan: this is ur first time texting me in three months [8:15 AM] chan: so i am going to assume this is pretty important [8:15 AM] you: i’m at incheon airport [8:16 AM] chan: what [8:17 AM] you: what [8:17 AM] chan: jun didn’t say anything about u coming??! [8:19 AM] you: DON’T TELL HIM [8:19 AM] chan: what … [8:20 AM] you: i’m surprising him [8:20 AM] chan: ????? [8:21 AM] chan: who knows [8:21 AM] you: um you do [8:21 AM] chan: thank u [8:22 AM] chan: so what do u need [8:22 AM] you: can u pick me up [8:23 AM] chan: i don’t have a choice do i [8:24 AM] you: nope :3 [8:24 AM]

When black SUV stops in front of you by the curb at the airport, you smile brightly, waving at the driver as the windows begin to roll down. You’re about to chirp a quick, “Hi Chan!” but the words get caught in your throat when you see who’s driving.

“Jeonghan?” you ask confusedly. He waves at you from the front seat, and Chan sticks his head in from the back to look at you through the window.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, opening the door to help you pull in your suitcase and get situated into the back seat. “Look, I tried to leave without anyone noticing but they saw me so I told them I was going to the gym, but he said he wanted to come and —” Chan glares at the man in the passenger seat, “— I don’t even know why since he hasn’t gone to the gym in ages—”

“Watch it Chan!” Jeonghan calls out from the front as the cat starts to move, pulling an eye roll out of the boy sitting next to you.

“Whatever. Basically, I had no choice but to bring him along and tell them I was actually picking you up.”

“You guys didn’t tell Jun, did you?” you ask worriedly.

“I—no,” Jeonghan says. “And even if we tried, he won’t be awake for another hour or whatever. That’s besides the point anyways—Chan is terrible at lying.”

“You caught me off guard! I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this morning, so I didn’t have any excuses prepared …” Chan huffs, sinking into his seat as you glance back and forth between them nervously.

“Thank you for trying anyways,” you say sincerely, adjusting in your seat. “I know this was all really sudden but I didn’t plan anything out and I kinda ended up here before I could even process anything,” you add.

“Hey, Minghao was telling us about these really good cupcakes you make—if you have time, can you bake them for us?” Chan asks, out of the blue.

You give him a funny look and then smile. “Sure, if I have the time. I’d like to—they told me Mingyu tries to make them for you guys.”

“Yeah! That would—”

“Thank you, but I’m going to assume that you are here for a reason other than making us your infamous cupcakes,” Jeonghan says, merging onto the freeway.

“As much as I’d love for that to be why I’m here, you’re right,” you mutter, resting your head against the headrest.

“Is everything alright?” Jeonghan asks.

As you’re about to respond, Chan chimes in. “This is about Jun, isn’t it?”

“Ai—Channie, don’t jump to conclusions,” Jeonghan reprimands but Chan shakes his head, holding his hand up as he turns to you with wide eyes.

“No, no, I’m not assuming anything. I’m right, aren’t I?” Partly. Chan continues. “Well it’s just—I can kinda tell. He’s being a little snappier. Jeonghan wouldn’t know but—“

Jeonghan gives Chan a warning look through the rear view mirror. “What do you mean I wouldn’t know?”

“Hannie, just listen to me. So me and Soonyoung and Minghao and Jun have been practicing at night right—for that next performance—and you know that Jun has a bit of a temper, especially in the night, but I don’t know—it’s just been different recently.”

You stifle a scoff when Chan mentions Jun having a short temper, looking out the window hoping no one heard. Jun does have a bit of a fiery streak, but the truth is that you’re just as sporadic as him.

Fire meets fire. Huh, wonder what that makes. More fire, probably. That’s what got you here, isn’t it? Unfortunately.

“Has, uh,” you pause wondering if you should ask this, but curiosity does kill the cat, after all. “Has Minghao seemed … off?”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at you. “What’s Minghao got to do with this? Did something happen with him too?” Curse that emotionally intelligent man.

Chan eyes flicker between the ground and you. “It’s hard to tell when Minghao is upset. He seems normal even when he’s upset so I can’t really tell … why though?”

“Just—just a lot of stuff. I think I need to see them both. Separately.”

Jeonghan nods, pursing his lips together before responding, “Do you need our help?”

Jeonghan takes you to his apartment first so you have a moment to drop your suitcase off somewhere, and you get to say hi to Seungkwan who you’re pretty sure didn’t even recognize you in his drowsy state.

“Where’re we going?” you ask when you get back outside of the building heading towards the car.

“C’mon, let’s walk,” Chan says, pulling you away from the car.

“Jun’s apartment building is just down the street here,” Jeonghan explains. “He should be sleeping right now, so just wake him up.”

“Are you kidding me? He might kill me!” you complain with a frown.

Chan huffs, “Well you did come here unannounced and without a plan, so you don’t have much of a choice anyways.”

You chew on your lip as you fruitlessly try to come up with an answer, sighing in defeat when you come up with nothing.

“Exactly,” Jeonghan concludes, stopping in front of a building that’s built similar to his. “Anyways, his suite number is 345 on the third floor. You should know the code to his apartment right?”

You nod, but then shake your head. “I know it, but I think I’ll just knock until he wakes up. He might actually kill me if someone shows up inside his home unannounced.”

Chan laughs at that when the two of you lead you to the elevator of this new building. “That, he might.”

“So encouraging,” you mutter, sticking your tongue out at them as the elevator door opens. “Anyways, thank you for helping me, really. I’ll make cupcakes if I make it out of this alive,” you promise while you step in.

“You better!” Jeonghan calls out as the doors slide shut and the elevator begins to take you up.

It’s now, when you’re alone, that it all begins to sink in. You’re in Korea. You’re about to see Jun. You might die—okay maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but you aren’t sure what to do with yourself so your mind is jumping towards the worst possible scenario as you reach the third floor and make your way to his apartment.

You stand in front of room 345 for a few moments once you arrive, not even sure if you’ll manage to go through with this. What the fuck are you even going to say?

(Un?)fortunately, you have a tendency to not think before you act, and before you have a second of thought your knuckles are rapping against the door. It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if you should go again.

Taking a deep breath, you continue knocking on the door at a steady rate before you hear soft footsteps growing louder in volume until they stop at the door. You hold your breath and let your hand fall, fisting it at your sides in anticipation.

When you see the door crack open, a wave of relief washes over you. But when you see Jun’s blank face as he looks down on you, a new sense of uneasiness takes over.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” Ah, how nostalgic.

“So cold. You aren’t going to let me in?”

Jun rolls his eyes, and you grow more anxious because you can’t tell if he’s being playful or not. He steps to the side though, and you quickly slip through the door so he can close and lock it behind you.

“What are you doing here?” he reiterates and you feel your tongue go dry.

“Uh, Chan told me that you’re being—well—how do I put this?” you mutter to yourself, rocking back and forth on your feet.

“Difficult?” Jun guesses, bitterness laced in the word and you cringe at the tone.

“I guess.”

“I don’t think you came all the way to Korea just because Chan told you I was being difficult.”

“I, uh, I talked to Jianing about it when she visited and … I guess I felt I should come see you.”

“So if Jianing didn’t talk to you about this, then you just wouldn’t have talked about it?” Jun asks harshly and you glare at him.

“Well it’s not like you would’ve come talk to me about it either,” you retort, and Jun goes quiet at them. “And Jianing didn’t make this decision for me, by the way, I made it all by myself.”

“Okay well you’re here now. What is it?” An uncomfortable silence sits between you two. “If you only came here to just stand there and stare off into space then—”

“Jun, please shut your mouth for like one minute,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I-I wanted to apologize. That night I … I was on edge.” Jun watches you intently as you finally meet his gaze. “There was a lot running through my mind and I was just—just fucking annoyed at everything and I took everything you said the worst way.”

A feeling of worry climbs up your throat—you and Jun don’t often apologize, at least not like this. Apologies usually come in the form of figurative olive trees—you buy him a LEGO set, he buys you a gift card to your favorite cafe, or something among that. Then again, this isn’t your usual argument with Jun, and maybe sometimes resorting to more traditional methods are most effective.

Jun sighs softly, not looking at you, and you grow worried that he’s even more angry than you anticipated. You brace yourself for his next possible words. “I … I did say some mean stuff too. I’m sorry—I just—I have a shitty temper. You know that. Chan probably told you that too.” Jun is silent for a second before continuing. “Is … is everything okay?”

The question isn’t quite what you’re expecting and you press your lips together tightly because you want to cry. You want to let the tears stream down your cheeks and tell Jun that you have no idea but also the perfect idea of what you’re doing and it’s all jumbled up mess in your head.

“I guess—I mean, I hate fighting with you,” you admit. “But, that’s why I came here and we didn’t say goodbye the last time and I know that was partly my fault but also I missed you.”

“But are you okay?”

“Jun—”

“Because I know you’re stubborn—it really is annoying sometimes but I’m not one to complain,” he adds with a huff, “and I know you’re a little weird—”

You both laugh and you point a finger at him, “Watch it—you and me both.”

“Whatever,” he says lightly before turning to a more serious tone. “But I never thought we’d fight again like that one time two years ago and—”

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up!? Yiren said that too,” you sigh.

“To make a point. Which, by the way, is me going back to asking you if everything’s okay. I just … I know that you’re a little crazy but I never thought that you’d fly over here for something that we could probably sort out over the phone. Not that I’m not glad to see you here, I mean, I am, I’m just … worried.”

“I kissed Minghao,” you blurt out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth after you do.

“What?!” Jun’s eyes go wide for a moment before he relaxes a little. “Is that what’s been up with you?”

“What do you mean ‘up with me?’”

“Moody. Cranky. Like you’re in high school again.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You chew on your lip as you try to read Jun’s expression. He doesn’t seem mad nor happy nor confused, and you’re running out of emotions to label him under.

“I knew you liked him in high school, you know. Thin walls, plus Yiren is loud as hell.”

“Ugh, I always told her to keep it down! She didn’t believe me!”

“Doesn’t matter now. What you or him do isn’t much of my business anyways,” Jun mutters, awkwardly stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodies. “I mean I guess it is, if it makes you all upset and not okay like this,” he continues.

You can tell he’s encouraging you to explain more, and you press your eyes together trying to figure what and what not you should say. “Has Minghao … has he seemed different?”

“I mean not really, but also it’s hard to tell with him because—” Your whole finger droops and Jun quickly places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, what is this about? Did something happen? You know you can tell me.”

“It’s a lot,” you confess. “I don’t know, I-I came here to talk to the both of you but I haven’t even thought about what to say to him. I kind of booked my tickets last night.”

“Last night?!”Jun exclaims. “Are you stupid or what?”

“Maybe I am!” you murmur, slapping your palm against your forehead. Jun looks down at your pained expression and frowns.

“You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you?”

“What happened to, ‘I don’t care what you guys do it isn’t my business?’”

“Well it is my business if you’re upset! I’m the only person who’s allowed to be a bitch to you.”

“Well ditto to you too!” You follow with a sigh. “I think I just need to talk to him.”

“He’s at the gym right now. Do you want to get coffee instead?”

“Hogging me all to yourself? I know you missed me but don’t you think this is a little unfair—I’d like to at least say hi to the others first. Or maybe have some time to sleep. I kind of got here at like seven in the morning.”

“Be grateful! I’m actually looking out for you, because they’ll literally hound you, plus I want to make up for not spending time with you last time I visited.”

You grin at the words, rolling your eyes playfully. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“When do I not pay for you?”

“Loads of times!”

“That’s because you insist on paying for yourself.”

“Irrelevant!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving a fist in the air before Jun locks his arm around your neck and traps you in a headlock. Good times.

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

You twiddle your thumbs nervously behind your back as you wait in the elevator with Jeonghan. Jun had to take care of something with one of the other members, so he sent you off with the older boy to take you to the meeting room.

“He’ll be there, don’t worry,” Jeonghan tells you as he pats your shoulder lightly. “I just checked his location and I’m positive he’s there right now.”

“Thanks,” you say with a sigh, shifting your weight from leg to leg, “but I’m more worried about what I’m going to say. I think you already know but I planned like zero percent of this.”

“It’s becoming increasingly evident, unfortunately,” Jeonghan admits when the elevator dings and the door opens onto a floor full of rooms. “You’ll figure it out, I’m sure, seeing as you’re just like Jun.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeonghan chuckles and leads you to a door a few steps down the hallway, pointing to it. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be in there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be down on floor three making some ramen,” he says cheerily, waving at you before retreating to elevatory before you have even a moment to protest.

So now you’re left with nothing but yourself and yet another door. This time, instead of knocking your life away, your hand is pressed against the knob as you debate whether or not you should turn it or not.

Once again, your body acts without your mind and you’re quietly opening the door and poking your head through the crack. Inside is Minghao with headphones over his ears, sitting at the end of a long table with his head crooked down as he scrolls through his lap top.

He doesn’t hear you, but you aren’t sure if it’s for the better or the worse. In some ways, you still have a chance to run, but in others, you’ll have to call out to him if you want him to notice you. Gulping, you realize that you’ve been too scared for too long and so you clear your throat.

“Minghao,” you call out.

It only takes a second for his eyes to shoot up, hands flying to his headphones to take them off as he takes in the sight of you in front of him. You’re at opposite ends of the room right now, and you nervously shut the door behind you as you finally meet his gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“I—” You inhale sharply. “—I don’t know. I just think we both needed to talk.”

You can see him visibly gulp as he stands up, and looks away as if trying to figure out what he should do with himself.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, dread washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, face burning. “I know I just showed up like this without warning and I know that’s not fair so if you don’t want to talk you know I totally get it and—” you start to blabber so fast you hardly notice him walking over and down the length of the table, “—I just really wanted to see you and talk to you but I couldn’t do it over the phone because—”

“Slow down,” Minghao says firmly, now standing in front of you as he gazes down with wide eyes. “Is everything okay? When did you come here—wait, did you come here just to talk to me?”

“Well yeah. And Jun.”

“Are you okay?” Minghao asks softly. “This doesn’t seem like you.”

You wince at the familiar words but shake it off. “I know, I just had so much to say and I’m sorry because you were right, and when you said you didn’t want this hanging over my head I was angry and I thought I could ignore this and ignore you but I was wrong and just really needed to sort things out. And the night you picked me up after Renjun and all—I know you told me to not depend anyone or anything—and I know I’m not listening to you right now and I don’t want you to be disappointed but—”

“Stop,” Minghao says, holding a hand up. “Disappointed? I—please don’t think that. The stuff I said that night was …” he sighs before continuing. “You were so upset that night because you didn’t have us around and I felt so bad but also, there wasn’t anything I could do about that.”

“I …” your eyebrows knit together as you try to find the right words. “… I know that. I didn’t mean to make it feel like you had to change anything, or that it was your fault.”

“I know and—”

“Wait, please hear me out. I don’t want to ever make you think that I blame you or Jun for leaving—I-I’m so happy for you guys you don’t understand. I was just … I was bitter,” you admit. “And I was jealous of you because you get to be around my own brother more than me and … I guess I was also jealous of Jun because he gets to be around you so often too.”

You finish your confession by burying your face in your hands, face heating up as you can only imagine the look on his face. He says your name softly, and you peek up at him through the gap between your fingers.

“Hey, no, I get it. I mean, I guess I don’t exactly understand how you’re feeling but I don’t blame you either.”

“I wrote you a letter,” you blurt out, a hand digging into your pocket as it toys around with the folded paper inside. Minghao raises a brow, and you pull it out and hold it in front of him. “Right after you guys left,” you explain as he takes the paper from your hand, carefully unfolding it. “Don’t open it now! That’s … embarrassing. Just read it when I’m not here or something because I might just die out of humiliation.”

When Minghao chuckles, you feel some of the tension in your shoulders dissolve. “Noted,” he murmurs, tucking it into the pocket of his sweats before turning his attention back to you with a more serious expression which has your stomach tying up in knots.

“You know how my job is. I can’t promise how often I’ll be home and when I’ll be able to make time and I know that people leaving hurt you so much and … I guess I just didn’t want to give you hope that I would be able to give you a ‘normal’ relationship, because I can’t, even though I want to. I think when I told you all that, I just—fuck—I hoped that you’d be able to focus on someone better for you.”

You want to cry and tell him that you don’t want someone ‘better,’ but choose to save those words for a different time. “T-then why’d you kiss me that night?” you ask quietly.

“I—” Minghao pauses, looking down as he searches for what he’s about to say. “I only have so much self control.”

You chew on your lip, debating if you should frown or grin at his statement. “So you—you wanted to kiss me?” Minghao responds in a heartbeat.

“Of course I did,” and then he clears his throat, “I wanted to for a while. I still do.”

Chuckling nervously, you start to say, “I don’t kn—”

The air is successfully sucked from your lungs when Minghao slides his hand around your neck, angling your jaw up with his gentle thumb. You think you might just go dizzy from the way he’s touching you until his warm mouth presses against yours, and this is the moment you feel every last muscle in your body let go.

He kisses you softer than the first time, his tongue running against your bottom lip for only a moment before you let your hand grip at his torso instinctively. “Sorry,” Minghao murmurs sheepishly when he breaks away. “Told you. Only so much self control.”

“I-I won’t complain,” you admit quickly, and though you let your hand drop to your side, Minghao keeps his where it is: cradling your cheek. He’s quiet for a moment before whispering again, and the words make your face burn and your heart fly around in circles.

“Can I kiss you again?”

link to smut!

“You have everything? Your tickets?” you ask as you lean against the doorframe. You’re both standing outside your parents house right now, waiting for Jun to finish his last bit of packing (why he was so insistent on you two coming quickly when even he wasn’t ready is still a mystery to you) so you can call over the van to take them to the airport.

Minghao shrugs at you, pulling out his wallet to look through the pockets to double check. As he’s shuffling through them, a familiar piece of paper sticks out and grabs your attention. “You keep my letter in your wallet?”

Minghao nods, seemingly unbothered by your surprise. “Yeah. Where else would I keep it?”

“Well, I don’t know but—”

“It’s a cute letter!” Minghao reasons. “And I like having it with me. Like a little good luck charm.”

You press a kiss to his cheek when he says that, but continue to say, “I don’t get what’s so cute about me getting drunk and writing to you.”

“Okay that part, I don’t like. Seriously. Underage drinking is not cool,” Minghao mutters. “But the rest of the letter is pretty nice I guess,” he teases, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

“Pretty nice?” you scoff, trying to snatch the wallet back from him to grab your letter. He swipes it away too quickly though, and you’re left pawing at his chest to try and get it back. “You don’t deserve that letter! I put my heart and soul into it!”

“Heart and soul? I think you mean you poured five shots of vodka into it.” You frown deeply, and Minghao relaxes his shoulders. “Okay I’m sorry—you know I love the letter.”

“Do I?” you huff stubbornly, looking at the ground.

Minghao traces a hand down your face and tilts your chin upwards. “C’mon look at me,” he murmurs, and you begrudgingly meet his gaze. “I love the letter.” He pecks you on the lips. “Do you believe me now?”

“You might have to kiss me one more time for that.”

Minghao grins and presses his lips on yours again, a little harder this time. “Good now?”

“Yes—you got lucky.”

“Okay good … but just for extra measures, I have something that might sweeten the deal,” Minghao tells you, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket and handing it to you. Carefully, you take it and unravel it, glancing over the words.

There’s a lot—like a lot—and Minghao’s face flushes as you skim over the paragraphs he wrote, slapping a hand over the paper. “Okay don’t read it in front of me!” he whines, and you beam because history has a tendency to repeat itself.

“Fine, fine,” you sigh, looking down at it one more time when your eyes catch a little note at the bottom.

Pursing your lips, you glance up and find Minghao watching you with wide eyes and a bright smile, and you can’t help but fling yourself into his arms. Your heart swells when you feel him wrap his hands around you rightly pulling him close as the words cast their imprint into your mind.

You’re happy. So, so, so happy.

Yours truly, Xu Minghao (weirdo)

P.S. I love you.

a/n. okay wow i can't believe this is done ... genuinely put so much into this fic i hope u all enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! i definitely might be writing more about these two bc i loved them so much😭 i had like 2 more ideas for a smut in mind but decided not to add them but if you'd be interested in reading them, i might post them as a oneshot/bonus, so lmk what you're interested in! please reblog if u did, and let me know ur thoughts—it would mean a lot to me :3

tags. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @junhui-recs @ichorjeon (strikethrough could not be tagged)

[love-belle]

always, evermore, even after and still !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they get married and it's the happiest day for everyone.

or

for when you finally find your happily ever after. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - hope u like this!!! i love you so much, thank you for reading <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 2,826,998 others

vogue charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n tie the knot in a grand yet intimate ceremony held at their villa in monte carlo.

the bride wore a valentino couture gown complete with a sprawling train and platform heels while the groom sported a classic black tuxedo. y/n’s childhood best friend, lily muni he, served as the maid of honour, whereas her close friends, carmen mundt, kika gomes and heidi berger were bridesmaids. on the groom's side, lorenzo leclerc, his brother was the best man along while his younger brother, arthur and his friend circle, which included lando norris, pierre gasly, carlos sainz and alex albon were the groomsmen. the guest list included many notable presences such as sebastian vettel, toto wolff, taylor swift, zendaya, timothée chalamet, harry styles and many more.

the couple’s first dance was to the song "love letter from the sea to the shore" performed by delaney bailey followed by "it's nice to have a friend" by taylor swift and "sweet creature" by harry styles.

tap the link in our bio to get a look inside their wedding held at their stunning villa in monaco.

tagged yourusername charles_leclerc

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

yourusername added to their instagram stories

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landonorris my two best friends got married and i'm about to make it everybody's problem. congratulations, you horny motherfuckers. don't remember much of last night but as i'm sitting in a cafe in berlin, i know it ruled. here's to a lifetime of happiness, love and blessings and may this marriage not end in a divorce (y/n, lily still has that taxi driver on speed dial, say the word and we'll help you run away)

tagged yourusername charles_leclerc

8,638 comments

username stfu im gonna cry

username i feel like a proud parent omg

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username i love them so much my lord

lilymhe you can still escape just sayin yourusername

-> yourusername i'll keep that in mind, thank you 💋

-> charles_leclerc is it too late to get a divorce

-> yourusername shut up you literally (and legally) signed up for this

username are we gonna ignore that fact that the wedding was in monte carlo and lando's in berlin

-> username how the FUCK did that happen

-> username i just know that the party was WILD

username "may this marriage not end in a divorce" PLS 💀💀💀

username the photos ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username im living for the wedding content we're getting from like half the grid

maxverstappen1 berlin is nice

-> landonorris i know right?

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username the event of the century 🔥🔥🔥

username THEY LOOK SO AMAZING WHATCTHRBUCJ

username in love with these

username god i need a life like this ://

charles_leclerc at least i had a gf and now i have a wife (thanks for the photos but i'm not paying you)

-> landonorris that's a fucked up thing to say to me (i literally hate you so much)

username fuck all the love stories except theirs

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-> username OMG THAT'S SO REAL

yourusername thank you for these pictures. we love you. take the train back to monte carlo rn or i am giving your gift to george. and thanks for the driver information, will keep that in mind definitely.

-> landonorris anytime. i love you both i guess. DON'T YOU DARE and of course, happy to help.

-> charles_leclerc DELETE THAT NUMBER RIGHT NOW

username charles has been married for one (singular) day and he's already fighting for his life 💀💀💀💀💀

username i love this friend group so much ❤️

username THEY BOTH ATE OMG

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lilymhe in my head, we're still those teen girls who planned out their wedding days with so much enthusiasm and with so much detail that it would've put these planners and binders to shame. it's kinda hard to believe that my best friend is now married but honestly, y/n/n, i couldn't be more happy for you. you're my best friend and i love you so much. thank you for being just a call away, always. here's to charles (barf) and y/n (❤️)

tagged yourusername charles_leclerc

7,926 comments

username SHUT UP IM CRYING

username platonic soulmates ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username AHHHSHDHDJDHBXSJ

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carmenmmundt the prettiest bride 💕

*liked by lilymhe*

username two pretty best friends 🔥🔥🔥

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username my favs ://

username nah cus lily and y/n literally have my heart like they're my fav pair of best friends

charles_leclerc i remember when you threatened me

-> lilymhe good. remember it for the rest of your life.

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-> yourusername lily

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username i wish i had a best friend like lily ://

alex_albon i never get captions like this

-> lilymhe this isn't about you

-> yourusername yeah alex this isn't about you

username y/n's childhood best friend being her maid of honour 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username in love with these two

username AHHHSHDHDJDHBXSJ

yourusername i love you SO fucking much

-> lilymhe i love you so much more

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-> charles_leclerc I'M HER HUSBAND

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username i adore their friendship tf

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danielricciardo i had one (1) job and as you can see, i took it very seriously. mr and mrs. leclerc-y/l/n, everybody 💒🍧💐

tagged yourusername charles_leclerc

7,682 comments

username LECLERC-Y/L/NS

username THEY'RE SO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username i love them sm what the fuck

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username LOVING THE WEDDING CONTENT WE'RE BRING FED RN

username she looks so pretty omg ☹️☹️☹️

maxverstappen1 why are you acting like your ass isn't in berlin with us?

-> danielricciardo THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET YOU SNITCH

username WHAT THEBFUCJ HAPPENED LAST NIGJT 💀💀💀💀💀 why are they in berlin

-> username oh the night was wildin 🔥🔥🔥

username daniel.jpg but on main

username love them sm

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username living for this content

landonorris berlin kinda cool

*liked by danielricciardo*

username WHY are they in berlin

-> username no it's HOW are they in berlin

username no bc i feel like such a proud mom like i watched go from "hiii/hiiiiiii" to "hehehehe i do/shut up charles, i do"

-> username that's what i call GROWTH

username her dresses ate omg

username i know daniel's not getting paid for shit

username im so ://

charles_leclerc lovely photos mate

-> danielricciardo so will you pay me?

-> charles_leclerc no

username AHHHSHDHDHDHXHXJDJDF

username gonna sob some more

username honestly crying tears rn

yourusername we love you daniel 🫶🏼 (get your ass back to monaco i am NOT kidding)

-> danielricciardo love you guys (omg we're on our way stop you scare me sometimes)

username IM NOT NORMAL ABT THIS

username fav couple

username thank u to daniel for these

-> username doing god's word fr

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yourusername words cannot express how much i love you. every single time i think that this is it, i cannot possibly love you more than i do, i'm surprised by myself because i do. i really do. i fall in love with you more and more every single day and i'm gonna spend the rest of my life showing you that. i loved you when you first told me that you really liked my smile and i loved you when you told me you hoped i lived nearer to you and then asked me to move in. i loved you when you took the time to get to know me and i loved you when you said that i was it for you and i will love you when our hair is turning gray and we're gonna look back and smile and fall in love even more. they're gonna have to kick us out of those nursing homes i swear. i truly cannot wait to look back on our life together, cardboard boxes full of our love, but until then, let's live it. here's to my forever love, my everything, my world. i love you ❤️

tagged charles_leclerc

17,527 comments

username GOODNIGHT

username WHAT THR FUCK

username im gonna sob this is so

username they're married 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username people say soulmates we say y/n and charles

username sliding down the door fr this is INSANE

charlotte2304 all my love to you both 💓

*liked by yourusername*

username HE'S SO HUSBAND MATERIAL LIKE

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sebastianvettel 💐💕

*liked by yourusername*

username he's so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username "i truly cannot wait to look back on our life together, cardboard boxes full of our love, but until then, let's live it" WHEN WILL IT BE ME

username "they're gonna have to kick us out of those nursing homes" me and who lol (i am screaming crying shaking)

username no bc i too deserve someone like this ://

username it's giving timeless by taylor swift

*liked by yourusername*

username they're so taylor swift coded

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*liked by yourusername*

arthur_leclerc sister-in-law 💒🩷

*liked by yourusername*

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charles_leclerc i love you so much it's unbelievable just how much

-> yourusername i adore you and every part of you

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charles_leclerc i honestly don't know what to say. you're my biggest dream, my wife and now that i'm saying it, it sounds so surreal. i have waiting been an entire lifetime to say these words and the fact that it's you in this lifetime (and all the others), is just amazing. i wish i had known you sooner, so that i wouldn't have to spend all those years looking for love in places where it couldn't possibly be. my love for you reached my past and before you came into my life, i missed you so bad. i hope that one day, when we're old and aged and have seen a thousand sunsets, you ask me if i love you and my answer will forevermore will be always, evermore, even after and still.

tagged yourusername

16,628 comments

username I CANNOT DO THIS RN

username everyone stfu im gonna cry

username english lang is so weird bc u say true love and it translates to y/n and charles

username nah the bar is too high atp im giving up

username SHE'S SO PRETTY MA GAWD

username the fact that they're now the leclerc-y/l/ns 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

lewishamilton so happy for you both 💐💒

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username "my love for you reached my past and before you came into my life, i missed you so bad" why am i crying.

username they're the blueprint for all love stories from now on btw

username I LOBE THEM SO MUVH WHAT GHE FUCK THEY'RE MU PARENTS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭 😭 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

usernames no bc the way all the photos are of random moments and this leads me to believe that charles just whips out his camera whenever y/n is just There and now im crying again

-> username he's just like us fr

-> username i too would play paparazzi for y/n is given the chance he's not the only one ://

carla.brocker coolest sister in law (best friend) 🫶🏼

-> yourusername carla i love you 😭

username still in disbelief they r married tbh

username i feel like we watched them grow up im so emotional 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username she's so pretty i could sob

username why did u think that it was okay for u to post this.

username i am not okay

lorenzotl 🤍💐

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username SHE'S SO PRETTY

username charles won at life fr

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username caption called me single and lonely in 26836282727 languages 💔💔💔💔💔

username bro woke up and chose to destroy shakespeare with that caption 💀💀💀

landonorris loved the wedding 👍 i woke up in berlin

-> charles_leclerc the wedding was in monaco???

-> maxverstappen1 i know

-> danielricciardo we obviously had some ideas and now i have an ugly tattoo and there's a ring pop on my finger

-> landonorris max has one too

-> charles_leclerc YOU MARRIED MAX

-> danielricciardo NO

-> maxverstappen1 NO

-> yourusername this is hilarious

username i need to see more pictures from the wedding I NEED TO

username i love my wife (i am delusional)

yourusername i have already loved you for a thousand years ❤️

-> charles_leclerc here's to a thousand more ❤️

yourusername i love you so much like you're my person and i just love you so fucking much :/

-> charles_leclerc i love you so much more mon chéri

username they're so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username IM SO AHJHSJSHDHDJSKDJD

username im gonna cry brb

[writingstoraes]

no. 1 fan ⚘️

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: thought this was a cute idea sooo! ALSO speak now tv tomorrow i am so excited 🤍 lmk what u guys think! (yes charles reqs are open hehe)

about: it's now a universally accepted fact that you are charles' no. 1 fan and biggest supporter!

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

yourusername

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, wags4eva, and 411,239 others

yourusername Fit check ❤️

wagsf1 she has the most fire ferrari merch she is now undeniably ferrari's paddock princess

lecslover MAM WHERED U GET ALL THIS!

yourusername I ordered all of them online! Will post the links in the comments I just have to find them :) lecslover TY QUEEN URE SO NICE

hamilchamp no one is outdoing her at being charles' no. 1 supporter like nobody is coming close!

charles_leclerc Tu as l'air bien, mon amour 🤍 You look good, my love.

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, landonorris, and 532,229 others

yourusername My heart has honestly risen up to the back of my throat numerous times whenever you're out on track fighting the best you can. No one prouder of everything you have achieved more than I am; I will remain your number 1 supporter 🤍

Congratulations on today's P1, baby! No one deserves this more than you do.

tagged: charles_leclerc

wagsluv her captions for charles make me tear up every time actually

gaslygirlie no its true especially when a race/quali doesn't go so good for him, she's the first one to lift everyone's spirits up :((

scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️❤️

charles_leclerc Love you forever 😘

Now playing: British GP 2023 Media Day - Press Conference

charles_leclerc

liked by arthurleclerc, scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, and 1,295,382 others

charles_leclerc My source of strength and beacon of hope. Thanks for all you do for me, amour.

yourusername Glad to be of service, Cha :)

landonorris Please delete there are children on this app

carlossainz55 Yeah, you 💀

wagsformula1 we love y/n in this household ❤️

lecs5516 Need me a love like this i am going: insane

--------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: i too, would defend charles even if it meant going to hell and back 🫢 lmk what u guys think hehehe thank you for reading <3

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Hi please can u write Edward Cullen x sick reader. Where the reader is stubborn and still shows up at school despite being sick. (I’m sick rn and can’t find any Edward fics) hope u have a nice day

Thank u :))

Nurse

Warnings: none really, sick!reader, potentially getting other people sick 😅, stubborn!reader, firm and patient edward, thank you for the request btw and sorry it took so long for me to get to it ❤️

Words: 1307

Edward knew immediately when you sat in the front passenger seat of his car that you were sick.

His brows draw heavy with concern. "You're-"

"I'm fine." You croak and buckle up. Moreso lying to yourself than to Edward. Your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and you were pretty sure a small fever was beginning to rise on your forehead. Like hell you were missing school that day. You'd studied day and night for your test; was finally confident that you were going to pass.

Reading your thoughts, Edward sighs and leans back into his seat. "(y/n), a test doesn't matter when your health is in question. Your teacher will let you take a makeup test. You need to go back to bed."

There was no energy in you to roll your eyes. "After I take my test then I can rest. I just want to get it over and done with."

"You won't do well if you're si-"

"Edward, please. I know my body. I can survive until second period." Arguing did nothing to help you feel better.

He could just grab you and take you back to your room. Doing that would further enrage you.

"You promise to let me take you home after second period?" The pleading in his voice softens you.

"I promise."

Exhaulting another sigh, Edward nods to himself. "Alright. I'm holding you to that."

A part of you doubts that you'll be able to make it to second period, but you would try to.

Edward may not have fought you more, that didn't mean he was pleased watching you struggle that morning. You were bumping into other students and walls as you lost your balance several times.

Alice pulled Edward aside, her honey eyes narrowed. "Why would you let her come to school like that? She's obviously sick, Ed!"

"I know. Believe me I tried. She promised to let me take her home after her test in second period." Edward lowers his voice, he doubts you can hear him. His gaze is on you as Jasper helps to steady you.

"I don't think she'll make it." Alice frowns and folds her arms in front of her chest. "I don't have to look into the future to see that."

"You try telling her then. See how easy it is."

She wouldn't even try, having experienced your stubborness before. You always wanted to appear tough to the Cullen family as you were selfconcious of being the only human among them. Compared to them you were weak. You compensated by doing whatever you could as a human to appear strong. Including refusing help when you were sick. Edward knew it would wound your pride greatly if he forced you home. So did Alice.

You didn't share first or second period with Edward. He kept tags on you via his mind reading to see how you were faring.

Struggling to stay up in your chair, your eyes were fighting every second to remain focused on the whiteboard at the front of the class. You don't remember much of what the teacher was talking about. Conserving your energy and mentally going over things for your test the following period. You were fading fast. Chugging water helped a little.

When the bell rang, finally alerting of the end of the first period, you were slow to get to your feet. If you tried to move any faster than your current pace, the world would slip from under you.

You use desks to coast your way to the classroom door. Barely making it to the door, there appears Edward. Frazzled when he takes in your flushed face.

Before he could object to you continuing the school day, you stop him by placing a hand on his chest. His mouth closes as he quietly surrenders.

Help me to my next class. Please. You ask him via your thoughts. Doubting you could talk without feeling vomit rise up your throat.

Edward breathes through his nose but doesn't complain about you overworking yourself when you needed rest.

Ever the gentleman, Edward cups your elbow and guides you.

"The moment the class ends, I'm taking you home." He whispers to you as he helps you through the scattering of students running late.

You'd smile if you could. I love you.

You catch the quirk in the corner of his lips and the brightening of his eyes.

It cost you the rest of your strength, but you did it. You fucking did it. All questions answered to the best extent of your knowledge.

There were few steps that were between you and the teacher's desk.

You suck in a breath and stand, hand gripping the edge of your desk for support. Navigating through rows of kids bent over their paper's, you focus ahead of you.

When your teacher notices you, she pauses at the waxen sheen of your face. The moment your test is on the surface of her desk you quietly croak "Can I go to the nurse's office?"

Edward was right outside the door, prepared to take you into his arms. You wanted to laugh.

The thought of a mother hen pops into your mind, making Edward scoff. "If I'm a mother hen so be it." You were unable to protest when he easily scoops you up and dashes to his car. Alice is waiting, rocking back and forth on her feet until she spots the two of you. There's a plastic bag in her hand that looks overly full.

"I'll tell the office." Alice takes Ed's car keys to opening the passenger door for you. Then she places the grocery bag in the back seat. "I googled what made people feel better when they're sick."

"Thank you Alice." You manage to get out as Edward opens the door with just one finger. He sets you down and straps the belt across your chest but not before tossing your backpack into the back seat.

Wondering what Alice had bought you, your forehead presses against the passenger side window, you momentarily fall asleep.

Only waking up when Edward is carefully picking you up from the car's passenger side. He's so careful with you. Always.

You realize when he opens the door that he's brought you to the Cullen house when the front door doesn't match your's.

"I don't want to leave you sick and home alone." He explained while hurrying up the stairs.

And. . .

"Ed. . ." Are you scared?

His jaw clenches. In his room he makes sure you're comfortable with whatever you needed. Water. Pillows. Blankets if you got cold.

Then he settles next to you. His face unreadable. You curl up closer to him and just that mere contact melted him.

"My mother and I. . . we were very sick when I became a vampire." This was something he'd told you a while ago. They'd become sick during the Spanish influenza outbreak. "I know the medical world is much more evolved than it was during my time, but it still terrifies me when you get sick."

"Oh Ed," You sit up even when Edward urges you to lay back down. "I should have-"

He furiously shakes his head. "No. You didn't do anything wrong. Sickness just reminds me how human and fragile you are." Rolling onto his side, you copy him. Head comfortably cradled by a pillow.

Rest.

You could finally rest.

His fingers brush along your brow, soothing your warm skin. You shimmy closer against him. Edward's much larger frame conforms around you.

"I know you won't die from this. Not that I'd let you die from illness." Adding the last part a bit under his breath, you still caught it.

For a second, Edward pulls away from you to retrieve a bottle of medicine from the bag.

"Now be a good girl and take your medicine."

[sunaluv]

I love the "Come get your man" series could you make a pt4????[you do not have to]

I love your work sm!!!keep doing what your doing!!!

Drink water, take breaks when needed, take care of your health both mentally & physically!!and see you next ask♡

wooo we back at it again! thanks for checking in on me bae 🥲 take care of yourselves too!

also thanks for 1k followers 🥳

part 3

feat. kenma, tsukishima, iwaizumi

steamer!KENMA

kenma loves his job. as a professional streamer he’s his own boss, he doesn’t have to be around people too often and he’s become really fond of his little online community (not that he’d admit that out loud).

it’s been a week since your unplanned debut on his channel. you didn’t realize he was recording when you came to drop of his snacks, doing your daily check in. ever since, all the tags with his stream name were aggressively loving, basically demanding him to bring back their ‘mother’ to the screen.

you drop in every now and then to remind his viewers to look after themselves, jokingly scolding them for not looking after your man aswell but it’s all fun and games on both ends.

whilst watching his stream in the room next door, you can help but notice a user in particular.

@/kodzubae: LMAOOO i thought he would be dating someone much prettier😭 didn’t know kodzu did charity cases.

even though the chat was moving before you could read all the comments, your eyes always managed to find whatever the user said about you, and none of it was nice. you didn’t have to be told not to read the comments— it’s an unspoken fact but your eyes and brain always seem to betray you, feeding into your minor insecurities.

you haven’t even realized you were staring at a blank screen. kenmas’ stream had ended whilst you were too lost in your thoughts.

“…you alright?” he asked hesitantly.

though your eyes lit up and your lips quirked at the sight of your boyfriend, he knew something was up— call it a sixth sense of his.

you wordlessly tried to convince him that you were okay, talking and joking the rest of the night until you fell asleep in his embrace but none of it felt genuine. he didn’t want to pry, but it physically hurt him to see you hiding things from him.

totally disregarding the first rules of boyfriend 101: “don’t go through your partners phone!”, kenma unlocked your phone, instantly frowning at the screen before him.

it was her twitter page. kenma knew his lifelong fans, and the handle on your screen now was one of them, except it was full of fan behavior for him and blatant hatred for you.

he felt bad.

it wasn’t exactly his fault, but he still felt responsible for the digs at you that were happening on his live.

the next day, you had woken up hours after kenma. you tend to do that when you sleep with a heavy heart.

in the distance, you could hear him talking, probably streaming. so you opened his stream on your phone and tuned in right on time.

“hey guys,” he greeted. “before we start i want to say something…i’ve become aware that ever since ‘mother’,” he emphasized on the quote marks. “made her first appearance, some of you have not been the nicest to her online and i just want to say that that’s a boundary that absolutely cannot be crossed.”

@/user1: WHAT? WHO HURT MOTHER

@/user2: i hope she’s okay :( luv u mom

@/user3: we’re just going to skip over the fact that he acknowledges them as our parents? okay…

@/user4: cross ken >:( cross ken >:(

“so from here on out, any hate towards her will be an instant block. i’ve told my mods too so behave…” he firmly, yet gently scolded.

“now that’s out of the way, today we’ll be…”

you watched the rest of the stream with a smile on your face. though you were working on voicing your concerns and discomfort, it was nice to know that kenma is willing to work for you whilst he waited.

TSUKISHIMA (tall!reader)

“you look so much taller when you’re not welded into tsukkis’ side, ya know?”

startled, you angled your neck down to see one of your classmates.

you had been avoiding her, and she, you. but it seems she’s finally willing to break this ongoing silent tension fest between you two.

“what do you want.” you deadpanned.

she gasped. “you’re too mean! tsukishima doesn’t deserve to be with someone like you, he deserves someone who is more down to earth, you get me?”

she eyed you up and down to emphasize her point.

taking your silence as willingness to listen, she continued. “i mean your too tall! granted he is too but opposites attract, he needs someone who will look good with him, like me.”

you folded your lips inward to contain your laughter. you and basically everyone knew about this girls love for your boyfriend, but you never pegged her as the type to come at you like this.

“you can have him if you want,” you waved. “kei looooves short girls.”

her eyes lit up in victory, obviously not sensing your sarcasm. “cool, just make sure you break up with him today because-“

“nobody is breaking up with anyone.” a voice shot.

low and behold, your six foot something boyfriend shutting down any advances you were planning to set him up with. though he joined the conversation, he only appeared to be addressing you.

“kei! i-“

“tsukishima.”

“tsukki! i-”

“no.”

he made eye contact with your smirking face over the girls head. “you were just gonna throw me to the wolves like that?” he asked offended.

you chucked. “there’s no wolves kei, look at her” you pinched the cheek of the stunned girl stood in between you two. “she’s harmless, like a poodle.”

she stood, mouth open seemingly in shock.

looking back at him, his face did not let up. you sighed.

“i’m sorry kei,” you breathed through your nose. “i will never subject you to such a horrible, earth shattering, torturous-“

“that’s enough, my god” he groaned. grabbing your wrist, he dragged you by the wrist, only slowing down when you rounded the corner, out of the girls view.

“you know i was joking, right.” you poked his cheek, to which he swatted your hand away.

“i know you’re joking,” his signature smirk appeared. “after all you wouldn’t throw away the opportunity to date the guy you’ve been crushing on for as long as you’ve been here. if i recall, your confession went along the lines of ‘i-“

you slapped your hand over his mouth in embarrassment. leave it to the guy to turn your confession into a weapon against you.

you playfully bickered down the rest of the hall, forgetting all about the girl who had tried to take your place earlier.

IWAIZUMI

“are you sure you’re not only using him to like, get to oikawa or something?”

the first words this girl had spoken to you. you don’t know who she is, or where she came from but she has some nerve coming with such a ridiculous question considering you haven’t formally met before.

“excuse me?”

“you heard me,” her tone was now accusatory. “i’ve seen many girls do iwa dirty because they want oikawa so if that’s the case save yourself an ass beating and leave him alone!”

you don’t know if you have bad memory or what because you don’t know who this girl is and as far as your concerned, neither does your boyfriend.

“i’m sorry, are you a friend of his?” you were more confused than anything.

“i am his and he is mine.”

woah.

you didn’t want to accuse her, but every sign she was showing pointed to a major case of FDS (fan delusion syndrome), a case of the crazies found in fans of the oikawa toru founded by you, maki and mattsun, but you were unaware that this case was also present in your boyfriends own… supporters.

you don’t blame them though because your man is a total hunkkkk. anyways.

right on queue, the door slid open and both of your heads turned to meet hajime’s, and of course he has to show up with a sweaty face, shirt practically clinging to his defined body.

“hajime!” the girl called, running and stopping infront of him. “she’s using you do get to oikawa, break up with her!”

he followed the finger that was pointed to you— confused and lost in the middle of the gym.

“that’s my girlfriend, she doesn’t like him like that.”

the sound of a shattered heart pierced the sudden silence. “w-w-what do you mean girlfriend, she’s after toru i’m sure of it!”

a humorless chuckle sounded from his throat. “trust me, she doesn’t ”

being cautious not to set the girl off, he traversed around her, and straight to you who watched the whole interaction both concerned and amused.

“wowww,” you breathed. “i didn’t know you were also a cause for FDS.”

“what?”

“nothing,” you straightened. “i don’t blame her though. i would go crazy if you walked around looking like that too.”

his face flushed and he turned away. “stop saying things like that…”

you smiled, poking his cheek. “what, i can’t appreciate my boyfriend who’s built like he was carved from the greek gods himself?”

he walked away after pushing your face with his hand, drowning your chuckle.

“c’mon haji, don’t be like that,” you chased after him. “you have to be feeling yourself a little after seeing the affect you have of the seijoh population!”

the girl watched as you made her ‘man’ flush, comment after comment, feeling numb as she watched him get more and more out of his reach.

[eggluverz]

— STARRY NIGHT BAKERY

PAIRING. baker!dan heng x gn!reader

GENRE. bakery au!!!, modern au, fluff

CW. jealousy (a bit from dh)

WC. 3,901

SUMMARY. in which the cute baker down the street catches your eye and you decide to become a regular to keep seeing him.

NOTE. ahh this is prob my fav thing i’ve written on this blog so far AHSDKFK dan heng…as a baker…wearing apron…and rolled up sleeves showing his nice arms…kneading dough…I’M MELTING :> pls enjoy i hope u love baker dh as much as me mwhahaha

A light breeze blew across your face as you walked down the concrete pavement of the city. Small shops lined the streets as you went for your morning walk to get some fresh air before your busy day started. 

You were headed to a chain coffee shop, figuring you couldn’t go wrong with a latte to kickstart your morning. However, as you walked along the humming streets, you smelled a pleasant aroma of sweets and strawberries coming from an opened bakery door. 

The bakery had a artistic yet classic look to it. The doors were full glass with golden handles and golden trimmings. The words “Starry Night Bakery” were draped on the top of the building in a bold, cursive font. Elegant, but not overly embellished as to where it was difficult to read.

The inside was brightly lit, but the walls and countertop were where the name of the bakery really showed itself. You were immediately drawn to it, walking in before you could fully comprehend what you were doing. 

“Good morning,” you greeted as you spotted someone placing pastries behind the glass display case. 

He paused what he was doing to look over at you. “Good morning. Welcome to Starry Night Bakery.”

You watched as he finished placing the freshly baked muffins on the display racks. He had a name tag with the words “Dan Heng” written in the same font as the one used in front of the building. 

As he headed over to the cash register, you took note of the way his sleeves were folded over to reveal his forearms. They were slim, yet muscular enough that you noticed some veins showing through. His white button up was covered by a dark blue apron, wind and stars painted on the front canvas. 

“You haven’t been here before, correct?” he said, unable to recognize your face. 

You shook your head. “That’s right, this is my first time.”

“Let me know if you need any help on deciding what to get,” he offered, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. “My name’s Dan Heng, by the way.”

“Y/N!” you said cheerily. You looked over at the display case and examined all the pastries. They all seemed so good you didn’t know which to choose. “What do you recommend?”

“The strawberry croissant is our most popular item—and it happens to be my favorite as well.”

“I’ll go with that then!” You looked at the menu to see if they also had a latte similar to the one you were originally going to start your day with. “And can I also have a caramel latte with oat milk, please?”

Dan Heng nodded, pressing some buttons on the cash register. “Coming right up.” 

You tapped your card and made sure to include a hefty tip before making your way over to one of the tables to wait for your order. The chairs were soft and cushioned; it seemed like a nice place to sit and enjoy your small meal instead of eating it on the go. Life seemed to favor those who moved fast and hustled non-stop. Sitting and eating at this bakery would be a great way to encourage yourself to be more mindful of that. Plus, it didn’t hurt that the handsome baker was in here to keep you company.

Instead of calling out your order to pick up at the counter like you assumed, Dan Heng placed a steaming mug and a perfectly plated strawberry croissant on the table in front of you.

“I have your caramel, oat milk latte and strawberry croissant here,” he said, placing some napkins next to the plate. “Please let me know if you want any sugar or creamer for your latte.”

“I will, thank you so much!”

You expected him to walk back behind the counter, but he stood there, looking at you expectantly. You looked back at him, eyes wide, but figured he probably wanted to see your reaction to his favorite pastry. 

“Mmm,” you said, picking up the cream-filled croissant, “it smells so good.”

You took a generous bite of the pastry and instantly felt a burst of strawberry and cream in your mouth. The croissant itself was warm and flaky, the perfect vessel for the sweetness of the light filling. You instantly wanted another bite as soon as you swallowed the first.

A sigh of happiness escaped your lips as you smiled between bites. “Somehow, it tastes even better than it smells.”

Dan Heng nodded, his eyes lighting up with pride. “I’m glad you enjoyed. I’ll be in the kitchen, but if you need anything, you can ring the bell at the front counter.”

“Will do! Thank you for recommending this to me.”

“No worries.”

He left you alone at your table to enjoy your snack. A latte seemed to be the perfect companion for this strawberry cream croissant, so you took a long-awaited sip. It was strong and sweet, but you still wanted more sweetness. You were going to ask Dan Heng if you could add a bit of creamer to your cup.

Taking another bite of the croissant, you gathered your latte in your hands and stood up to walk to the counter.

The first sight you saw was Dan Heng in the kitchen—it was an open concept with glass windows that let the customers look into the preparation and baking areas. He had a small streak of flour on his cheek as he worked on kneading the dough with his hands. The image of Dan Heng folding and working the dough grew larger as you walked closer to the counter. You noticed the smaller details, such as another flour streak on the tip of his hair, and the tightening of the muscles on his arms as he kneaded the dough. 

You especially noticed his strong forearms being put to use and you got lost in your admiration for his craft. So focused on the sight of Dan Heng, you didn’t notice what was right in front of you. 

“Oh, no!” you gasped, feeling your full cup tip over as you crashed onto the countertop and lurched forward. You were able to stop yourself from faceplanting, but it was too late to save the latte from being spilt. 

At the sound of your cry, Dan Heng looked around in concern, placing his dough in a bowl and hiding it away in a drawer. He spotted you with an ashamed look on your face and headed over immediately.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” His concerned gaze switched between your embarrassed face and the unmissable spill on the counter. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said in a hurry, reaching for some napkins nearby and attempting to clean up your mess. “I stood up to ask for creamer and I wasn’t looking at where I was going and I walked right into the counter…” 

He placed his hand over yours to stop your futile attempts at cleaning the big spill up. He pulled out a rag that was strategically hung behind the cash register and wiped the latte up.

“Accidents happen, don’t worry about it,” said Dan Heng, trying to console you. You watched guiltily as he finished wiping the countertop down. “This is surprisingly not the first time this has happened, so don’t look so down.”

That wasn’t susprising. If anyone else were to lay their eyes on such an alluring sight, you reckoned they most likely crashed while staring too.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “I’m really sorry about the mess, but thank you for being so kind.”

He waved it off. 

As the morning went on, more customers came into the bakery to grab breakfast before work. You waved to Dan Heng as you gathered your belongings and got ready to continue on with your day and he waved back with a small smile. 

Despite the small mishap, you knew you had fallen in love with this place and would go back again soon. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

Over the weeks, you found yourself frequenting Starry Night Bakery whenever you were free. Before work, after work, sometimes even on the weekend when you found yourself craving their strawberry croissants. 

You ended up getting to know the bakers more—mainly Dan Heng but you also met March 7th and Caelus. You learned that Dan Heng was a big reader who enjoyed anything from fiction romance to nonfiction philosophy and everything in between. He loved history but he was open to entertaining conspiracy theories to explore other perspectives. And, he made the best strawberry croissants. 

Today, you entered the bakery in the late morning on a weekend. 

“Hi, Y/N!” March 7th greeted you as soon as you walked in the doors. 

“Good morning!” you chirped, heading over to the counter. March 7th was currently behind the register while Dan Heng was behind the glass walls of the kitchen. He looked up at the noise and when you made eye contact, he waved at you with a smile. You waved back happily. 

She noticed the two of your exchanging glances and grinned. “Dan Heng! Switch places with me; I want to make the pastries. You can take Y/N’s order.”

Dan Heng’s cheeks tinged pink as he wiped his hands off on a clean towel. When he walked over to the cash register, March 7th gave him a big wink. 

“Oh, no, it’s okay actually!” you said to the both of them before they could finish switching roles. “I’m not ordering yet. I’m waiting for someone to join me first!” 

You had been raving about this bakery to your friends since you first had a bite of their pastries, and Gepard wanted to taste it for himself. The two of you happened to both be free this weekend, so you invited him to get some croissants with you. 

Dan Heng nodded. “Okay, when you’re ready just let us know.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled, but instead of finding a table for you and Gepard, you loitered around Dan Heng. “Have you read anything interesting recently?”

His countenance brightened at your interest. “Yes, I recently picked something up on Nikolas Tesla and his fascination with pyramids and energy. Modern scholars seem to agree those theories are more pseudoscience than anything else, but it’s interesting to understand his train of thought.”

“Oh! I’ve heard a conspiracy theory like that before. Something about how the Pyramids could have been energy generators…” 

As Dan Heng was about to reply, the front door chimed opened. You turned and saw a tall, blonde-haired man walk in. 

“Gepard!” you exclaimed, signaling him over. 

His eyes scanned the interior of the bakery before they landed on you. “Y/N! This place looks really nice.”

“Doesn’t it?” 

You bounced over to him, leading him to your favorite booth. It was against a wall covered in an interpretation of the infamous Starry Night painting. You always looked at the decor in awe, wondering how they managed to keep the ambiance so bright despite the night sky theme. 

“Stay here, I’ll order us the food! My treat,” you said with a grin.

Gepard immediately shook his head. “I should be the one treating you.”

You gave him a stern look of refusal. “I invited you here, so I’ll pay.” 

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at your determination. “Okay. Next time, I’ll invite you somewhere then.” 

“That would be acceptable,” you teased. “Now, wait here.” 

As you headed over to the cash register where Dan Heng stood—not too far from your booth—you noticed the slight frown on his face. 

“Hi again! I’m ready to order now,” you said cheerfully. 

“Okay. Ready.”

Your smile faltered. “Um— Right, I’ll have two strawberry croissants, a chocolate chip muffin, and a blueberry muffin, please!”

Gepard loved blueberry muffins, after all. And as much as the bakery’s strawberry croissants were the best on the menu, their muffins were more than delightful as well. 

Dan Heng nodded, noticeably averting eye contact the moment your gaze met his. You quirked your head to the side, confused and slightly concerned. “It’ll be ready soon.”

“Alright, thank you,” you said softly. You hesitated, shuffling from side-to-side. “Are you feeling okay?” 

His eyes widened slightly, a brief look of guilt crossing his face. “Yes, I just got a little tired there, I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. “Oh! I get that. It must be a difficult job moving around so much.” 

Feeling a little awkward, you started to headed back to Gepard, but not before you heard March 7th loudly whisper a, “What are you doing?!” to Dan Heng. 

You hoped you weren’t the reason Dan Heng felt upset or tired, but you figured it’d be best to let him process and cool off on his own. Besides, you had Gepard here to catch up with. 

The two of you chatted and laughed as you told stories about work and friends. He told you about a blind date his sister set him up on that went miserably, you mentioned some new hobbies you’ve been trying to get into. The strawberry croissants were just as amazing as always and Gepard enjoyed them as well. 

But throughout your meal, you couldn’t help but notice Dan Heng’s gaze occasionally on you. And apparently, so did Gepard. 

“Are you guys together?” Gepard murmured under his breath. “He keeps looking this way.”

You shook your head. “Together? No, we’re not.” 

He grinned, leaning in closer to your ear. “He’s looking pretty jealous for someone who’s not dating you.” 

Immediately, you turned to look at the front counter, only to make accidental eye contact with Dan Heng. His eyes widened and heat rose up to your cheeks. You almost gave yourself whiplash as you averted your gaze to the man in front of you. 

He stifled a laugh at the crazed expression on your face. “Why did you look right at him?” 

“What was I supposed to do after you said that?! I wanted to see for myself,” you said helplessly, hiding behind your hands. “He’s going to think I’m weird now, great.”

“He wouldn’t have even noticed if he weren’t looking at you in the first place,” reasoned Gepard. He took the last bite of his blueberry muffin and offered you some advice. “You can take this with a grain of salt since I haven’t seen the two of you interact regularly, but he definitely seems interested. And if my gut is correct, so are you.” 

You didn’t even bother denying it. How could you when the first day you saw Dan Heng you spilled an entire cup of coffee on the counter because you were busy gawking at his arms? Now that, you did not tell Gepard. Even you had some shame. 

“Well, if you do decide to do anything, just know I’m rooting for you!”

You laughed through your embarrassment, still grateful for his support. “I’ve been wanting to… But we’ll see.”

Gepard patted your head affectionately and you grinned as you swatted his hands away. You appreciated your friend for giving you a boost of confidence. Maybe this was just the push you needed to express your interest to Dan Heng. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

The sky was blue and bright as you walked the city streets this morning to head over to your usual spot. The weather was warm out despite the day just starting and you basked in the bright sunlight. 

Today was a good day. And it was going to get even better. Because you were going to talk to Dan Heng about feelings. Your feelings, his feelings, all the things you were afraid to say. 

You realized that sounded a bit too dramatic. It wasn’t as if you were confessing your love or asking him to be your husband— You simply wanted to express that you started liking him and wanted to explore the potential of dating. There was nothing to fear!

At least, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself as you opened the door to Starry Night Bakery. You took a deep breath, trying to act normal. After all, you were here first and foremost to get some breakfast and enjoy the bakers’ company. You should focus on enjoying your morning and talking to your bakery friends, then things with Dan Heng would come naturally to you. You hoped. 

When the door chimed open, you spotted both Dan Heng and March 7th at the front counter. March 7th was placing the pastries in the display case while Dan Heng restocked the napkins. 

“Hi, Y/N!” March 7th greeted, looking up when she heard you enter. “How’s your morning been?”

You brightened up the moment you saw her. “Great! It’s so nice out? How was your guys’ morning so far?”

“Also good! We tried a new combination of flavors for our cream croissants. You should try one! On the house.” 

You beamed, excited at the prospect of being the first to taste one of their new creations. You were certain it’d taste amazing. “I’d love that!” After a pause, you focused your attention on Dan Heng, looking at him expectantly. “And how are you?”

“I’ve been good,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You weren’t sure why he seemed sad, but you knew you wanted to see him feel better. A moment of silence passed by before you asked a question you knew he normally loved answering. “Did you learn anything interest recently?” 

He nodded. “Yes, but I already told March 7th.”

You pursed your lips, your stomach dropping. “Oh. Okay.” 

March 7th looked between the two of you, shaking her head as she slowly escaped to the kitchen area, leaving you and Dan Heng alone. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, trying to find ways to fill the awkward silence you were not yet accustomed to with Dan Heng.

“Have you ever wondered what a cloud would feel like?” was the first thing you thought to blurt out. The clouds were big and fluffy during your walk earlier, so it was only natural that was the first place your mind went to.

He cracked a smile—a tiny, but real one this time—at that. “Unfortunately, they wouldn’t feel as soft as they appear. Clouds are vaporized water, after all. I believe it would feel like a steam of sorts. But if you were to touch one high enough, you’d likely feel ice droplets.”

You listened to him eagerly. You were sad the answer wasn’t “as fluffy as cotton candy!” but you were happy Dan Heng was talking to you normally.

“This is one of my favorite things about you,” you stated as if you were talking about the weather. “You never want to stop learning and growing and it shows on even small topics such as clouds. I could listen to you for hours, I think.”

If he was startled by your candor, he didn’t show it, instead examining you thoughtfully. “I enjoy listening to you as well.”

You grinned happily. “Then we always need to keep talking and listening to each other, okay?”

Dan Heng gave a hum of acknowledgement.

Feeling as if your friendship was back to normal, you felt more comfortable talking to him about whatever came to mind.

“By the way, Gepard said he loved the strawberry croissant yesterday! He said we’ll definitely eat here again!”

You expected Dan Heng to feel happy after hearing the compliment about his bakery, but instead, his countenance visibly fell. “Oh.”

You blinked. It seemed he didn’t like hearing about Gepard. Either he didn’t like Gepard—which was impossible, really—or he didn’t like that it was you mentioning him. You decided to carefully test your hypothesis by continuing to talk about him.

“He said he would love to try a mango version, actually!”

“I don’t think mango suits our pastries.”

You eyed the fruit tart with mango cubes on top. “Right…” A moment of silence passed between the two of you as you wondered what exactly was going on. You kept pushing. “Gerard liked the blueberry muffin.”

“We’ve been thinking of discontinuing that.” 

You laughed in shock, not fully believing your ears. “Dan Heng! You are not actually considering taking the classic blueberry muffin off the menu.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Dan Heng,” you called again, voice singsongy. There was a look of mischief on your face. This wasn’t how you anticipated bringing this up, but it seemed like an opportunity had presented itself. “Are you jealous?”

You heard a squeal from the kitchen, but when you looked in the direction of the noise, the only thing you saw was a flash of pink hair ducking away from view. You turned back to Dan Heng. He looked lost in thought, his eyebrows furrowed as lips slightly downturned.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. He paused. “I don’t know if I’m jealous of Gepard. But my chest feels tight, my body feels tense, and I feel upset at the thought of you and him together. If that is jealousy…then, yes.”

“Definitely sounds like jealousy to me!” cried March 7th, still hiding away in the other room.

Dan Heng’s face tinged pink and you started laughing at her antics. 

“Dan Heng,” you said with a bright grin. “You don’t have to be jealous. Gepard is just a friend. And he can’t make the delicious strawberry croissants like you can. Trust me, I think you’re like…ultimate boyfriend material.”

You were only half-teasing, but you still meant every word you said.

He smiled and a look of relief washed over him. “You guys just seemed very happy together. I thought it was a date. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it! I’m just glad to have this cleared up.”

It felt like your body was buzzing in excitement. Not only did you clear up any potential awkwardness with Dan Heng, but you found out that he was jealous of Gepard. Now, it seemed like the next conclusion to reach was that he was jealous of Gepard because he was interested in you. 

“So… Ultimate boyfriend material,” Dan Heng repeated your earlier words. “What exactly does that entail?”

You thought about it for a second. “In general, it’s someone dependable and trustworthy. For me in particular,” you said, eyeing him hopefully, “it’s all that plus a history and philosophy nerd. Plus, someone who can bake the best strawberry croissants. Maybe someone like you?”

He chuckled, taken aback by your straightforward response. You looked up at him, slowly batting your lashes. Crinkles formed on the side of his eyes as his smile widened. The mood was light and happy, and you felt like nothing in the world could bring you down.

“Care to find out if your assessment is correct?” he asked, extending a hand out for you to place yours in.

“I’d love to!” You nodded, feeling the warmth of his fingers on the palm of your hand. His thumb slowly ran across your knuckles and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Do you want to go on a date, Dan Heng?”

You held your breath as you waited for his response. He started off as a nice baker in a shop you ran into one random morning, then he became your friend, and now he was on the cusp of being something more. The story was sweeter than the cream in your strawberry croissant.

“With you?” said Dan Heng, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Always.”

[stuffeddeer]

hiii! how about ~any bsd characters of your choice~ when they make you cry for the first time during an argument? (maybe they say something mean, weaponize your insecurities, tell you to shut up (yeah, i'm sensitive to this heh), won't listen to you, etc)

yayyy any of my choice!!! that means my faves dazai and nikolai <3 love u anon

cw: intimacy ? "fuck" is used multiple times, u call urself an escort

A soft breath left your lips as you stared at your ceiling. Without even looking at the clock, you were sure it read some time past 12. You had quite a late night, even just the thought causing you to feel tired again. Closing your eyes tightly, you buried your face into your pillow, turning over in bed to do so.

The movement is followed by a deep chuckle from beside you, causing your eyes to snap open in surprise for a moment. There he is: the man who kept you up.

"Oh, you're still here." You spoke before thinking, the words coming out of your mouth as merely an observation.

"Ouch," he smirked, his hand reaching out to gently brush some hair from your face. "Good morning. Or should I say good afternoon, hm?"

"Um, sure. Thanks for last night, I suppose." Is that what he's waiting on? Acknowledgment? You pull the covers further up, making to sure cover as much of your torso as you can.

Your ex boyfriend only smirked, fingers trailing down your body just above the thick blankets. He propped his head up on one hand, elbow sinking slightly into your mattress. The way the afternoon sun danced between his brown curls made you think of last night, and how nice it felt to grip his soft hair once again. The thought makes you sigh, turning away from him to gaze at the ceiling once more.

"Hey, so, um, I gotta get ready. I have plans later..." you trail off, hoping he'll take the hint. Your ex has always been smart, especially socially - he'll understand.

And he does, for the most part, but he doesn't care. "Kicking me out already? The day just started. I thought you'd at least offer me a bowl of cereal before sending me away." His tone is teasing, the same smug smirk sitting prettily on his lips. "What are your plans, then? Anything I can tag along for?"

The incredulous look on your face gives away your confusion. "What..? No. Hey, thanks again for last night, but this is where we part. You got what you wanted, didn't you?"

He pouts at your words before sitting up. "Yeah, fine. I got what I wanted. Didn't realize this was just a fuck for you."

"Are you saying for you this was more?" You asked genuinely.

"No, I just thought it might have been more for you," he replies dismissively. Standing up, he begins pulling on his pants. "Have fun on your date, then."

You nod, unaware of his trap as you reply genuinely. "Thanks, I'll try."

He pauses, one leg in his pant leg and the other hovering just above it. "So you are prepping for a date."

Looking at him curiously, you nod. "Mhm, yeah. I was chatting with someone on Tinder. Figured I shouldn't go running to my ex whenever I need a good fuck."

He scoffs. "You think you can get a good fuck anywhere else?"

"That's what I'm tryna find out. Put on your pants, please."

"I guess it's my fault then, hm?" His eyes narrowed at you, giving nothing away as he remained frustrated and angry.

"...Fault for what?" You were confused, unaware as to what he was hinting at.

Your ex grits his teeth, feeling annoyed at your obliviousness. "For thinking we might actually get back together."

His words left you stunned for a moment, watching in silence he pulled his pants on the rest of the way. With a rather solemn expression, he shook his head in defeat and put his shirt on quickly. "There's my answer, then," he murmured, more to himself than you as he turned to leave.

Anger coursed through your body. How dare he play the hurt victim now? "Hey, fuck you!" You shouted without thinking. What a colossal asshole! "The night I broke up with you, you told me you never even liked me in the first place! And now what, you suddenly wanna 'rekindle what we had?' What did we have, Dazai? Please, enlighten me, because I find myself remembering that our whole relationship was just you talking down to me and treating me like some second-rate escort! I'm sorry for wanting more," you unloaded. Every thought that had been bouncing around in your head moved out of the way as you admitted what had been eating at you during the year of your relationship together. "It was our one year anniversary, you know, when I finally called it quits. Did you even remember?"

He didn't; of course not. You could just tell by his continued silence and the way he glanced away.

Tears brimmed your eyes. The only thing worse than his condescending remarks was the silence. You couldn't stand his quiet behavior, even when you were together - it screamed pity, and that's the last thing you wanted from someone who always knew what to say. "Get the fuck out of my house." You flopped back against your bed, burying your face into a soft pillow for the second time since waking up less than 10 minutes ago.

The sound of his feet pattering away is unheard by you, barely able to hear anything over the ringing in your head. As silently as you can, you sob into your pillow, feeling hurt and used by your stupid ex boyfriend.

Nikolai, in his crusade for emotional freedom, sometimes found himself treating you in a way that was less than ideal. He liked starting arguments with you, “proving” he didn’t love you as much as he clearly did and definitely wasn’t willing to do anything you asked. It was always over small things, like who made dinner (he’d get mad if you made it since he wanted to treat you or get mad that he’d have to make it since he always does) or how you hogged the blankets at night. Because of this, you usually overlooked it — you understand that it’s his way of proving his freedom and it never devolved into anything more.

Until today, that is. You could hardly remember what the argument was originally about, but he just kept pushing…

“Nikolai, I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Tears were starting to gather in your eyes, making them puffy and glazed over. The more he raised his voice, the more you shrunk in on yourself.

“That’s the problem! How could you not know?!” He took a step closer, towering over you with his large frame.

It was almost hard to breathe, panic coursing through your veins as you suddenly pushed him away with every ounce of strength you had. Silence coursed between the two of you, air tense and uncomfortable. Your tears finally spill once you notice how your hands are shaking. Fine, if he wanted to be free, then far be it from you to stop him.

Wiping your cheeks, you weakly reply, “Get out of my apartment.”

The white haired man paused, waiting to see if you meant it. You didn’t, not really, but it’s embarrassing to admit that when you gaze at your fearfully shaking hands. This isn’t how a boyfriend should treat his partner.

“Please, Nikolai…” You’d fold, you always did, so you resorted to begging while you still had the courage.

That courage wavers fully as his hands rested on your hips, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “It’s my fault, baby,” he whispers. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll get you flowers, and we can order your favorite takeout and have a picnic in the living room while watching your favorite movie…” His thumbs brushed the fresh tears away before both hands grabbed yours. “The last thing I want is for my dove to be scared of me, I swear. I love you more than anything, you’re all I want,” he presses soft kisses against your knuckles, “please, just let me stay...”

You fold.

thank you for this bc i have been ITCHING to write for nikolai my wife my girlfriend my lover (I HAVENT WRITTEN FOR HIM B4 SORRY)

[meowrette]

🎉🎉🎉🎉HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIO!!!!!!!!!

♡　　　❊　 　mizuki tumblr layouts ♫　　✤　　　⌣　　gift for @kiochisato!　 ➷　﹐　psd by kiochisato on tumblr　✪　 . . . & no kin/me/id tags unless kio nf2u unless kio

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIO!!!!!!!!!! its ur special day today :3 so i would like to give u a silly little present ... i hope u like it :3 i wanted to also write a note so pls read it under the cut ,,,, ^_^

i would like to say thank u SOOSOSOS much for inspiring me, to run this blog, to ever start this, to make hundreds of graphics and layouts for other people YOU were the one who inspired me, and even tho it may have not seemed a lot to u thank u for making those liam graphics, i was that anon and i was so excited when i saw those graphics that finally an edit blog WAS. FINALLY. WILLING TO DO MY REQUEST i was ecstatic that day !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and then i looked up to you i wanted to be just like you ,,, u were like my idol at the time

i was also so happy when i opened my tumblr messages and u were the only one there wanting to talk to me !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was so excited to talk to you and its always a lot of fun talking to u!!!!!!!! thank u for that too, i really struggled finding people on tumblr who wanted to talk to me via messages since i refuse to sign up for discord LOL

this seems like a lot even tho we dont really know eachother that well so i hope ur not like weirded out by this LOL

but ,,, thank u so much for pushing me forward to make this blog and always being nice and friendly towards me

have an amazing birthday kio !!!!!! ^_^

[pepsiconcoction]

Discounted Cookies | Han Jisung x Reader

pairing: barista!han jisung x gn!reaer

tags: coffee shop au, a little bit of angst, minor language, jisung is a lil flirt, reader doesn't wanna put up with it, fluff, no smut

requested? yes! by anon xox

an: i actually don't know how i feel about this, but it's cute regardless, anon i hope i captured what u meant, i tried my best to get reader to be Annoyed but i love jisung too much, sorry ;-;

wc: 3,890

4 times Jisung flirted with you + 1 time you flirted with him.

The first time you see him.

It’s a few minutes past midnight and you think this might be your end. You’re going to pass out, for sure. You had been studying at the library for the past 7 hours straight for an exam worth 60% of your grade. Studying Law was definitely a choice. Specifically, it was the choice you made two and a half years ago, resulting in you, at this moment, halfway through your third year and on the brink of a breakdown. The breakdown? Partially caused by your ex-boyfriend, who had just broken up with you no more than five days ago. You’re fine. People keep asking. You really wish they would stop.

In the distance, you spot a flood of warm, yellow light flooding out of a shop window. As you get closer, you recognise it’s a coffee shop, you think it may even be the one your friend had told you about, saying it was her favourite place to study as it’s open 24 hours. It seems tonight is the night you’re finally going to check it out.

It’s kind of snowy at your feet, thanks to the early month of the year, but you wish it was more picturesque and not just the grey slush that you think you can feel leaking through your boots. At least it’ll be nice to get some warmth for a few minutes.

You push open the door, a small bell jingling above your head, and the warmth hits you like a wall, suffocating in its intensity. There’s only one other person in here: an old trucker-looking guy, face held over a steaming cup of coffee. 

“I’ll be out in a second!” You hear a man shout from behind the counter, you guess he’s even further in the back than you can see. You hear a small commotion that sounds a bit like someone stamping on a cardboard box. A few seconds later, a guy appears, slightly dishevelled and running his hands through his hair as he exhales. His hair parts in the middle and brushes his eyebrows, slightly longer around the edges, as if gone uncut for a few months. A friendly face with round cheeks looks at you, a grin appearing on his face. He brushes down his apron and makes his way to the counter.

“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?” he asks.

“Just an Americano to go, please,” You smile back at him.

“Can I offer you any discounted sweet treats?” He gestures to an almost empty cake counter. “They’re discounted because it’s so late, not because they’re bad.” He quickly adds on. You spot a singular chocolate cookie looking very lonely.

“Sure, I’ll take the cookie,” you say, gesturing to it. 

“Good choice, madam.” He nods his head, punching it into the register.

“Can I take a name?”

“Do you need it?” You ask, looking around at the empty store.

“Not really, but I’d like it.” He shrugs.

“Y/n,” you sigh. This isn’t what you were looking for at the moment, but you decide to just let it go.

“Not having a good day?” he asks, seemingly concerned.

“Not having a good week,” you say flatly, hoping to communicate your disinterest.

“Well, Y/n, feel free to take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you once it’s done.” He grins again and spins around, getting to work on the coffee machine. God, who even has this much energy this late at night? Crazy people, that’s who.

You sit down at one of the tables, taking out your phone and it reads 12:17am. It feels like it’s mocking you. You scroll through your socials, attempting to keep what small semblance of a social life you think you have together, but a few minutes later, a familiar barista comes into your view. You stand up, accepting the coffee from him and he hands you the cookie which is now in a brown, paper bag.

“One Americano, and one discounted cookie.” He hands you each and you stand up, thanking him. 

“And maybe a little extra something, since you’re having a bad week and all,” he adds quietly, shuffling on his feet slightly. You peek inside the bag and notice a candy bar, something chocolatey. 

“Thank you,” You stutter, not expecting the kind gesture.

“Come back again soon!” He says, already heading back to the counter where he starts to mess with something, in a clear attempt to look busy. You turn and 

leave. Despite the cold air outside, there is an unfamiliar warmth in your body.

The second time you see him.

You wake up the next day, surprisingly on time despite the lack of alarm. It’s only 10am and you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead of you. The exam is in 5 days. Thankfully you’re studying at home today, not needing the library for today’s subjects. The state of your flat reflects your mind, it’s a mess, dishes in the sink, clothes piling up next to the dryer. After an hour or so of quick chores, it’s in a slightly better state, good enough to study in, you think.

And study, you do. Day turns to night and you find yourself closing the last page of a textbook, letting out a deep breath. You could feel your anxiety beginning to fizzle around your body, not fully convinced you’ve properly ingested all the revision you’ve done. You need some food. The second half of a pizza is sitting untouched from earlier and you kinda feel bad for it, poor thing. Your eyes flicker towards the candy bar sitting on your desk, where it was abandoned last night and you think about the guy from the coffee shop. You throw on a slightly warmer outfit and you definitely don’t spend the walk to the coffee shop thinking about whether he might be working. To your surprise, he is.

You can see him behind the counter from outside, he’s pouring frothed milk into a cup, presumably for the customer standing at the counter. It’s slightly busier at this time, you’re not surprised considering it’s only just coming up to 8pm. You push open the door and the bell jingles like it did the night before. He looks up, looking past the customer in front and his mouth quirks up into a smile, recognising you instantly. You look around him, at the large menu boards, you don’t want to give him an ego. 

The customer in front pays for their drink and leaves, and the man’s smile finally points directly at you.

“Hello again, Y/n, what can I get you today?” He grins at you, eyes crinkling. You’re surprised he remembers your name.

“A latte, please,” you say, glancing up at the menu.

“To go, or sit in?” His eyebrow quirks.

“Oh, uh-”

“You’re sitting in,” he answers for you, already punching it into the register.

“Fine.” Your roll your eyes. 

“Take a seat.” He gestures to the barstool-type seating a little further down the counter. You’re not really sure why you actually sit down.

“Is your week any better?” He looks over his shoulder as he makes your drink.

“Not really, no.” You respond. He pauses in his actions, looking at you expectingly.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up?” 

“We don’t know each other,” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, so my name is Jisung, Han Jisung, and today, I’m your barista. Tomorrow, maybe more!” He winks as he turns back to the machine which is spewing out your drink. 

“Well, Han Jisung, if you must know, I’m stressed the fuck out for my exam next Monday, I’ve got a practical in two days, and my boyfriend broke up with me a few days ago because I was too much for him. He was just a pathetic, weak little man, I really don’t know how I lasted that long with him.” You found yourself ranting, releasing some of the pent-up frustration you’ve been feeling for the past few days.

“Well,” Jisung starts. “that’s very fair.” He goes quiet for the remainder of the time he is making the drink, leaving a slightly awkward air around you. You focus your eyes on the counter in front of you in an attempt to ignore the stress coming back to you. All of a sudden a drink is slid across the counter.

“Is that a… squirrel?” You look from the cute latte art to the man standing across the counter from you. He looks sheepishly up at you.

“Yeah, looks like me, doesn’t it?” His grin is back, and you can feel a smile creeping onto your face.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Your eyes linger on his for a few moments, until a group of people enter the small cafe and his attention is brought away from you. You discreetly watch him as he works, greeting the customers with a big smile, and using his charisma to get an extra cake sale. You think maybe you fell for the same charisma yesterday, but you don’t really mind because the cookie was pretty good. A few minutes pass, and you sip on your drink, trying to keep the art as intact as possible. Once the last customer had been served he side steps back towards you.

“How is it? Has it fixed your week yet?” He raises his eyebrows, smirking slightly.

“I’m not sure a drink can fix my week,” you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“Nonsense! Of course, it can. Take a sip.” he gestures to you to lift the mug to your lips. You reluctantly take a sip.

“See? It’s working, no?” he chuckles. You put the cup down and try your best not to laugh.

“There’s that pretty smile!” he grins, earning a roll of your eyes. Your phone buzzes with an incoming email from your university, it’s just a random send-to-all type of email but it does remind you of your looming academic responsibilities.

“Thank you, for the squirrel,” you tell him while standing up from the stool. 

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, round eyes looking suddenly lost. 

“I’ve got work to do, I’ll see you around.”

“You better.” His grin is wide as he watches you leave, hoping you do come back soon.

The third time you see him.

“We crushed it!” You celebrate with your best friend, the two of you have just partaken in a mock legal trial as part of an assessment. Your Professor had wanted to challenge the class, setting up fake suspects and witnesses, and had even arranged for a court stenographer to be present. Your group had won the case, despite the opposing team putting up a pretty tough fight.

“Did you see the look on the judged face when you caught out the lying witness? I was trying so hard not to say something.” Your friend gushes, talking faster than you could keep up with.

“I know!” You laugh but break into a yawn as the previous nights studying catches up with you once the excitement is over.

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Absolutely.” 

You’re so engrossed in the conversation as the two of you walk that you don’t even realise you’ve made it all the way to the familiar coffee shop. You stop in your tracks a few feet from the door.

“Not here,” you groan.

“Why not? This place does the best coffee on campus.” She looks confused as she turns back to you.

“I always see the same barista, and he always hits on me, I just can’t be bothered today.” You whine a little, trying to convince her.

“Well, is he working right now?” 

You take a step further, enough to look through the window and see the counter. There is a man, but it’s not Jisung.

“I don’t see him.” You trail off, scanning the rest of the shop as much as you can see.

“Alright then, we’re getting coffee here.” Your friend grabs you by the hand and practically pulls you into the small cafe. There is a surprising queue, so you continue to just make conversation with her until you’re next at the counter. The barista who serves you has curly, black hair and biceps that honestly look like they’re about to burst his sleeves. He greets both of you with a smile and begins to punch your orders into the register.

“Changbin! Catch!” You hear a familiar voice. Your heart sinks to your ass. The barista serving you, Changbin, turns back and looks towards the door into the back. Peeking around the cake stand, you catch a glimpse of Jisung. He’s hanging onto the door with a container of what looks like soya milk. He throws it, and Changbin catches it.

“Sorry about that, our delivery was late this morning and only just arrived, so it’s a bit crazy right now,” Changbin explains, replacing an empty soya milk container.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” You shrug. He finishes taking your order and the two of you move to the side to wait.

“He’s kind of fit,” your friend leans into you to say, once you’re both out of earshot.

“In more ways than one.” you giggle.

Your attention is quickly averted towards the door to the backroom, particularly to Jisung who is rushing out of it and towards the counter, tying his apron at the same time. 

“Sorry Bin, it’s a nightmare back there.” He says, getting to work on coffee orders.

“No worries, we’re not too busy anymore, the rush seems to be over.” You realise that you and your friend were the last in the queue and the cafe has died down a little since you first entered. Jisung also takes a quick glance around, and that’s when he spots you.

“Y/n,” he says. “Back to see me so soon?” His lips turn up into a small smirk.

“You wish.” You roll your eyes. He just laughs and turns back to the coffee machine. You look at your friend and give her a look, the look you get in return translates to 'message received'. 

“He’s kinda cute,” she whispers to you, thankfully you were far away enough for her not to be heard. You sighed. He is kind of cute but that’s not what you’re looking for right now. You’re in a weird enough head space as it is with all the stress of law school and the breakup, not even two weeks ago! You can’t seriously be thinking about dating so soon. Right…?

You’re ripped from your thoughts by the very same man that caused them.

“A white hot chocolate?” Jisung announces to the two of you, but he’s looking at you.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You step up to the counter and begin to take it.

“You’re looking very fancy today, big plans?” he asks, smiling.

“I had a mock trial this morning.” You say and he looks at you with wide eyes, kind of like a deer in headlights.

“You know, like a court trial?” you ask.

“Law! That’s what you’re studying.” He finally realises.

“I didn’t say?” You’re now the one who’s confused.

“No, you never, I’ve been trying to figure it out, trying to guess.” he laughs. Changbin appears next to him and slides an espresso onto the counter, your friend stepping over to take it.

“Bin, they’re a lawyer! Isn’t that cool?” Jisung gushes a little, looking back at you with big eyes. 

“They won their trial this morning.” Your friend interrupts before you can say anything. You shoot her a look.

“Really?” The big, sparkling doe eyes are back as he leans against the counter.

“I, uh, yeah,” you stutter a little.

“Wow, that’s so cool.”

“Sung, I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt with our customers.” Changbin walks back towards the coffee machine and he begins prepping another order. 

“You don’t pay me at all, you’re not even a manager!” Jisung starts whining as he stands up properly. He turns back to you.

“Enjoy your drinks!” He says. You take this as your queue to leave and make a beeline out of the coffee shop, drink in hand. Your friend follows behind you, honestly a little confused.

Once you’re a safe distance from the shop, you finally feel able to breathe again. 

The fourth time you see him.

Beep… beep… beep…

Your alarm. You reach over and turn it off, groaning as you roll back over, the feeling of dread already seeping into your bones. It’s the morning of the exam. The exam you’ve been dreading. The exam that is responsible for 60% of your grade. You groan again.

You feel heavy as you walk around your flat, attempting to get ready for the day ahead of you. It doesn’t help that you broke the fundamental exam rule of getting a good night’s sleep, tossing and turning until eventually passing out. So many textbooks have been haunting your thoughts that you barely noticed you’ve also been thinking about something else. Or rather someone else.

You can’t stop, he keeps popping up in your mind. His round face, and big smile. You feel yourself smiling just thinking about it. But fuck, it feels wrong. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. You don’t have time! You have a big exam, which conveniently starts in just over an hour. 

You need a coffee.

You get to the familiar coffee shop at 11:31am. Your exam starts at noon. It takes 20 minutes to walk to the campus building it’s being held at. You probably don’t have time for this. 

You see him. He’s behind the counter. You think your head hurts.

“Hey,” he greets you with that smile again. You feel sick. “What can I getcha?”

“Just a black coffee, to go.” Your voice croaks a little from its lack of use.

“You’re not staying with me?” He smirks, punching it into the register.

“No.”

You see him falter a little at your cold tone. His eyebrows quirk down a little.

“Are you alright?” he asks as you swipe your phone to pay.

“Stop it, Jisung. Can’t you just leave me alone today, God,” you say exasperated, and step away from the counter. You try to ignore the hurt look in his eye and you really try to ignore the way he shrunk in on himself. A different member of staff you’ve never seen before hands you the drink and you leave the coffee shop without looking back at him. 

The exam goes terribly. At least it feels like it goes terribly. Your head is a mess, the guilt chewing at you the entire time. You do your best, writing everything you recall but by the end of it you have a decent headache and the pit in your gut has grown. You leave the exam and go home, collapsing in your bed and you fall asleep telling yourself you’ll feel better when you wake up.

The fifth time you see him.

You wake up in the afternoon the next day. 

You don’t feel much better. Not after binging on a pizza and your favourite chocolate. Not after watching that movie that makes you cry every time. Not even after you’ve journaled about it. You think that particular journal entry is mostly scrambled nonsense. It probably is.

You decide to go for a walk to clear your head. Maybe the cold, winter air will freshen you up, and make you feel a bit better. With a big coat and a warm scarf wrapped around you, you walk into the evening air, it’s already past 11pm so you mostly see young people out drinking despite the weather. You have no destination but of course, you end up there.

The warm, yellow-toned light pours from the window as usual. The bell above the door is jarring to your fragile little heart. 

He’s there.

He has his back to you, cleaning some sort of container in the sink. 

“Two seconds!” he sing-songs. You don’t respond. A few seconds later he’s done and spins around to you. His eyes widen a little and then drop.

“Hi.” He steps towards the register.

“Hi,” you respond.

“Would you like something to drink?” his tone is passive, despite his words being polite. 

“A hot chocolate, please, to sit in.” You try to smile at him, he focuses on the register. He nudges the card reader towards you as he steps away to get started on your drink. You move towards the bar-stool seating you sat on previously.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. He looks back to you.

“Go ahead,” he glances back at you. You take a seat and look around, and you realise for the first time that you’re the only person in here, apart from Jisung. You look back towards him just as he put the cup down in front of you.

“Thank you,” you smile again, he gives you a small one but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns away and starts fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Jisung, can I talk to you?” you ask.

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.” He says without turning around.

“Please.”

 That gets him to turn around at least, even if he is still looking at anything but you. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. I was just a mess, and that’s not an excuse but I need you to know I didn’t mean it,” you trail off, picking up your drink and taking a sip, appreciating its sweetness. 

“And to be honest, I kind of miss the flirty Jisung. I was beginning to like him.” You take another sip of your hot chocolate, smirking to yourself when you see his head shoot up toward you.

“You do?” His eyes soften a little when you nod.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. But it’s okay. To be honest, I probably was coming on weirdly strong, huh?” He scratches the back of his neck while you chuckle.

There is a moment of silence as you look down at your hot chocolate. Until a thought sparks in your head.

“Why do you flirt with me?” 

“What?” His eyes widen and the poor guy looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

“Why do you flirt with me? Or do you just flirt with anyone?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No! I don’t, it’s really just you, and I don’t know why, I just kinda… liked you? I mean, you seemed cool and nice and definitely my type.” He catches himself rambling. 

“I’m your type?” You ask, smirking.

“Well, yeah.” he chuckles. You laugh too.

“Han Jisung, I think we should go on a date.” You say, definitively. 

“Really?!” He stands up from where he was leaning against the back counter and crosses towards you.

“Actually, never mind.” You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“Do not play with my heart like this, I’m sensitive!” he clutches at his chest dramatically, making you laugh louder.

“Fine, but I get to pick where we’re going.”

“Deal! Just tell me a time and I’ll be there.” His grin tells you that he will live up to that. You fall into another silence as you hold each other’s gaze, just smiling.

“Hey, Y/n, you want a discounted cookie?”

“I’d love one.”

taglist - @lethallyprotected

[sugar-omi]

Hi! Your writing is amazing and makes my day every time I see you post. Could I request Cove while trying for a baby with a female MC? He’s so sweet and emotional I can totally imagine it would be equal parts super fluffy/adorable and spicy/hot Thank you! ✨

omg ty thats so nice of you to say!!! also tysm for this rq, i've been waiting for someone to ask smth like this bc i was worried i was the only one thinkin shit like this!!! also i think this is a bit more horny than fluffy, which is why i tried to make up for it w lots of kisses from cove LOL but ykw.. i feel like a part 2 wouldnt be so bad either 👀

tags : NSFW, ok for fem/nb readers, after step 4/wedding dlc, buff cove lol, breeding kink, creampie, overstimulation, cove w oral fixation(? a bit implied), cunnilingus, cove "uses" a nickname that you can "insert" bc i can but also cant see him using pet names, + he calls u good girl, "multiple choice" dialogue (just read 1 of the colored text "options" than continue w the rest of the fic, theres no links or anything <3)

synopsis : you and cove try for a baby.

cove tries to be calm.

and he is! after a bit of panic of course, caused by his worries but excitement for fatherhood but also you want him to.. to... oh god he's too embarrassed to think about it, from finally deciding to have a baby the only natural next emotion is calm! he is cooler than a cucumber!

but now you're laid out under him, as beautiful as ever, and even after years of being together cove can't get enough of you; especially when you're so sweet to have like this.

"cove.." your gasp drug cove out of his daze.

you reach up and cup his face, cove leaning into your touch. "y/n.." he kisses your wrist.

"what're you thinking about?"

cove flushes. there's no way he could tell you exactly what he was thinking, saying that he found the idea of coming inside was totally different from thinking it and he was not ready to that something clicked in him when you finally talked about being ready for a baby...

"you.. just- just you, and how lucky i am." cove decided to distract you by kissing down your neck, leaving a new mark under your ear. thankfully it worked, although maybe you just gave it up because you already know what's going through his head.

he starts working his way down your body, and you fall back on the pillows and let cove treat himself to your cunt.

cove tossed your panties somewhere beyond the bed, his days of nervously folding your panties over. and he latches onto your thighs, sucking more marks into your skin and his fingers lovingly work your clit.

"cove.. i wan' more..." you tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on the strands. wordlessly he moves on to your twitchy core, his tongue slipping inside and lapping up your slick.

cove's boisterous ministrations has you grinding against his face, gasping as he works your sensitive clit and adds a couple fingers to the mix, speeding up the process so he can be inside you.

cove hopes you don't see him grinding against the mattress.

he sits up, his fingers spreading you open easily. while you're panting dozily, cove's fingers abandons your cunt so he can grab the lube from the bedside.

"habit.." cove laughs it off sheepishly.

he instinctually reaches for a condom, but realizes and a wave of heat rushes over him. you won't be needing those for awhile...

cove meets your hooded gaze, a knowing look in your eyes.

you grin, full of mischief. "guess we're gonna have to break it."

cove growls lowly, slapping a hand over his eyes. it does nothing to hide his blush and he curses himself when his cock twitches against his leg.

deciding to come out of hiding, cove peers at you from over his nose and you feel your own heart pick up sped at the stark look of his eyes. something about cove seems like he could devour you, but when he leans down to kiss you so tenderly you think otherwise.

cove poured the lube over his hand, coating his length and he hisses at the heat between his hand and cock. hazily cove thinks that this is the hardest he's been since he was a clumsy teenager.

cove captures you in another loving kiss, wanting to be close to you as he sinks inside.

this is your first time going without a condom, being connected like this has both of you holding onto each other, your nails scratching down his shoulder at the new but welcomed sensation.

this isn't the first time you and cove have done it unprotected, but it has been awhile so you both can't help but pull the other person closer, needing more.

cove buries his face in your shoulder, shaking from how wet and hot you are inside like this. he can feel the way your gummy walls flex around him and he pulls his hips back- the whine that comes out of your taut throat has cove closing his eyes and taking in your every sound as he moves so slowly, so sensually but so lovingly when he grinds his hips into yours.

finally, he finds the strength to remove himself from your shoulder, needing to see your face in ecstasy.

cove looked down at your own blissed out face, and if he could see his own face he'd notice that his own face his flushed and if it was possible, his pupils would turn into hearts from how lost in pleasure and love for you he's in.

he situates his hands on your hips, the pads of his thumbs rubbing affectionate circles into your skin.

"ah- cove, cove.. please move." you reach for him, intertwining one of his hands with your own.

he gives a kiss to the back of your hand, and when he rears back his hips to start a rough pace, if you could you'd think that the kiss was an apology for the way he's using your cunt.

cove's grip on your hand and hip is solid, it grounds you and the only thing you can think of is how deliciously cove is fucking you, his cock brushing and bumping against the sensitive and deepest parts of your insides.

you whine loudly and can't help but throw your head back because it's like he's going faster and when your eyes return from their trip to the back of your head, you open your eyes to feast on the sight of your husband/boyfriend.

and it's self explanatory why you're more aroused than a just moment ago; cove's hair is mused from all your tugging, and his glasses are long abandoned so that way he can see the way his cock pumps in and out of your cunt and the creamy ring around the base of his dick.

"ah- i love you. y-you're so beautiful..." cove soothes you, kissing your cheek.

"i- oh fuck right there!" your nails run down his chest, cove is going to be a mural of hickeys and scratches. "i love you too, ahh- cove!"

cove lets go of your hand in favor of your clit, already knowing your body well enough to know when you're going to cum.

"fuck... that's it, y/n, cum for me."

"hah, cove! f-finish with me, please. want- want..." you pant, hazy and driven to babbling from the way cove has worked you up all night.

"i know n/n, cum with me. that's it, good girl." cove leans down to kiss you.

tangled in a passionate kiss, your moans blend together as you finish. cove grinds his hips into you, his cock rubbing the deepest part of your insides and painting them white.

he falls into your shoulder, panting and planting a kiss there.

cove gets up, realizing you don't need a wall of muscle crushing you.

"y/n..."

he starts to pull out, and cove has another revelation that he did not think this through...

his cum is leaking from your spent hole, more cum pushing out with every squeeze of your insides, still twitchy from your orgasm.

"yes cove?"

cove swallows, meeting your eyes and he feels embarrassed that you already know what he's going to say. and that you clearly know how much this is turning him on.

"one.. one more round? i'll be more gentle, i just uh.."

you put your ankle on cove's shoulder. "cove, fuck me again."

cove tenses up, this is gonna end up being a long night...

[dovesdreaming]

omg hello!! found u in the rory keaner tag 🤗🤗 but one ur blog is super cute and two, may I request a little smthn for rory?

I was thinking like rory helping the reader dye their hair and once they rinse it out & dry it he sees them and is like "😨😍" yk??? and reader convinces him to get a streak in his hair to kinda look like them? sorry lmao pls dm if you have any questions

ꨄStain on my heartꨄ

Hi thank you I decided on a blue theme for now but I’m sure I’ll change my mind again soon!! And as a person with dyed hair I love this request and hope you like what I wrote!! <3

still learning to write stories like this and i don't mind kind constructive criticism!

Warnings: none and is gender neutral! Can be imagined with any colour hair I only used blue in the banner to match with my blog!

You had been bored with your hair for a while. Staring at it in the mirror wondering whether you should cut it, deciding against it after seeing disasters online and nearly ruining your hair last time you tried. You sighed and stared at yourself for a bit longer before deciding on the idea of hair dye.

A few weeks had passed since that day and you finally had everything ready to go when your boyfriend decided to come over and disturb your plans. All he wanted to do was be close to you and not let you out of his sight but this made dying your hair slightly more difficult with his clinginess. You thought of a compromise where he could be close to you and touching you while dying your hair for you. After convincing Rory that he couldn’t mess your hair up and that all he had to do was apply the dye he agreed to help.

Rory got really into the process being interested in how it would look and being extra careful to cover all the hair in dye. He admired you throughout the whole process and was impatient to see the results. He helped wash the dye out your hair scrubbing your scalp with your favourite shampoo but after that you kicked him out of the bathroom so that you could have a big reveal.

Rory looked like a kicked puppy, impatiently waiting to be back in your presence and admire your new hair. He sat on your bed fiddling with his hands and loose threads until he finally heard the hairdryer stop.

You opened the bathroom door and Rory came up to you with wide eyes not saying anything. He continued to silently stare and you started to take this as a bad sign and slowly shrunk into yourself. Rory lit up with a cheek hurting smile and immediately started gushing over how nice it looked, you couldn’t contain your happiness and laughed at his excitement. In the spur of the moment you quietly suggested that you could die a few strands of his hair for him. He seemed hesitant to agree but taking a glance at your new hair he rapidly nodded his head. He couldn’t wait to look like you. He leant in and pecked your lips, grabbing your hand to immediately take you back into the bathroom to do his hair.

Thank you for reading! I hope it was ok. I'm still trying to improve my writing, especially working with dialogue which i will be attempting soon!