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Masterlist

Ghibli - Bound by Names: Haku x reader (angst, hurt/comfort, subtle romance)

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Bound by Names

Pairing: Haku x Reader (You) Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Subtle Romance Word Count: ~2,500 words Synopsis: After Chihiro is freed, you fi

-The Space Between Us: Howl Pendragon x reader (Angst, hurt/comfort)

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The Space Between Us

Pairing: Howl Pendragon x Reader (You) Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Word Count: -2,500 words Synopsis: After feeling like an outsider in Ho

Seventeen fics - A Little Bit Like Forever: Dokyeom x reader (Fluff, Friends to Lover, High School Romance)

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A Little Bit Like Forever

Pairing: Dokyeom x Reader Genre: Fluff, Friends-to-Lovers, High School Romance Word Count: ~4,500 Synopsis: Middle school chaos, high sch

-Warmth In The Details - Kim Mingyu x reader (Fluff, Slow Burn, Romance, Friendship)

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Warmth in the Details

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Reader (You) Genre: Fluff, Slow Burn Romance, Friendship Word Count: ~2,500 words Synopsis: In a lively classroom,

K-drama Fics

More Than Business- Han ji Pyeong x reader (Hurt/comfort, Office Romance, Hurt/Comfort,Emotional Growth)

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More Than Business

Pairing: Han Ji Pyeong x Reader (You) Genre: Subtle Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Growth Word Count: ~2,500 words Synopsis: You’ve alw

Bound by Names

Pairing: Haku x Reader (You)

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Subtle Romance

Word Count: ~2,500 words

Synopsis: After Chihiro is freed, you find yourself drifting away from Haku, believing that with his newfound freedom, he no longer needs you. Struggling with loneliness and exhaustion, you distance yourself, despite the bond you once shared. One night, after a rough encounter in the bathhouse, Haku finds you injured and broken, leading to a quiet, heartfelt conversation that forces both of you to confront the feelings left unsaid.

The river was always quiet at night. You had known this place for as long as you could remember, the soft hum of water flowing endlessly, a comforting rhythm beneath the chaos of the spirit world. You and Haku had grown up together, both bound by the strange rules of this place, but you always had each other.

Though Haku had grown distant over the years, especially after he began working under Yubaba, you could still remember those early days, when he would sneak away from the bathhouse just to sit by the river with you. Back then, it was easier. Life was simpler. But things had changed.

You watch him now, hovering by Chihiro’s side. She’s different—human, lost, and frightened. Haku has taken it upon himself to protect her, just as he always protected you, and you can’t fault him for that. But as you stand in the shadows, watching from afar, there’s a heaviness in your chest. It’s not jealousy. It’s the realization that you’ve started to miss him—miss the way things used to be.

You shake your head, trying to dismiss the thought. It’s not fair to compare. Chihiro needs Haku. And besides, he’s always been this way. He has a way of making people feel safe, of being their anchor when the world becomes too much. You know that better than anyone. After all, you’ve been the one to patch him up when his dragon form was injured, when he returned from Yubaba’s dangerous tasks, battered but unbroken.

But lately, you’ve been feeling more alone, and that’s what hurts the most.

The first time you realized something had shifted between you and Haku was after Chihiro called him by his true name.

You were there, hidden in the shadows, when Chihiro gave Haku the gift of remembering who he truly was. You saw the moment it happened—how his eyes widened in shock, how his entire being seemed to glow with the realization of his true identity.

Kohaku River.

The name echoed in your mind, and you felt your stomach drop. It wasn’t just a name—it was his freedom. You knew it before anyone else did. Haku could leave now. He could leave Yubaba’s clutches, leave this world, leave you. And once Chihiro was free, he would have no reason to stay.

The thought festered in your heart, though you never voiced it. Instead, you did what you always did. You stayed in the background, watching as Haku continued to help Chihiro, wondering if he realized what this meant for the both of you.

As the days passed, you found yourself avoiding him. It wasn’t intentional at first. You told yourself you were busy, that the bathhouse and the spirits demanded your attention. But deep down, you knew the truth. You were pulling away because you didn’t want to face what was coming.

If you distanced yourself now, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much when he eventually left.

Tonight had been particularly rough. One of the spirits you were tasked with serving was more aggressive than usual, and in the chaos, you found yourself slammed into a pillar, the sharp edge cutting deep into your side. You winced, feeling the warm trickle of blood beneath your clothes, but there was no time to stop. Not when the bathhouse was in full swing. Not when Haku was nowhere to be seen.

You managed to slip away to the riverbank once the night grew quieter, clutching your side as the pain throbbed. The wound wasn’t life-threatening, but the dull ache mixed with the exhaustion and the loneliness in your heart was becoming too much to bear.

Sitting by the river, you stared into the water, trying to steady your breathing. The night was quiet, but the emptiness inside you was louder than ever.

You had hoped to disappear quietly into the night, but fate had other plans.

Haku appeared beside you, his presence as quiet and calm as always. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said softly, kneeling beside you.

You didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes on the river. “You shouldn’t have,” you replied, voice tight.

Haku’s gaze sharpened, noticing the way you clutched your side. His expression darkened as he knelt closer, pulling your hand away gently. “You’re hurt.”

You tried to pull away, but the pain made it hard. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, turning your face away from him. “You should leave.”

“Let me help you,” he said, his voice low, filled with concern as he carefully peeled back the fabric to inspect the wound. Despite your resistance, he started to patch you up with practiced hands, hands you’d once seen mending his own injuries. But now, they were focused on you.

“No.” You shook your head, your voice breaking, filled with a mix of frustration and sorrow. “Haku, you need to leave. You’re free now. You don’t need to stay here anymore.”

He continued tending to your wound, ignoring your words for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady but filled with something deeper. “Is that what you want? For me to leave?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to speak. “You deserve to go,” you whispered. “You deserve to be free, to live without worrying about anyone else… without worrying about me.”

Haku’s hands stilled, and for a long moment, the only sound between you was the river’s soft flow. “You really believe I’d leave you behind?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost hurt.

You swallowed hard, not trusting your voice, but nodded slightly. “You should.”

Haku didn’t let go. Instead, he finished tending to your wound before sitting back on his heels, his gaze locked on yours. “There’s something you don’t understand,” he said quietly.

You frowned, the ache in your chest growing as you tried to meet his eyes. “What?”

“Chihiro helped me remember my name, yes,” he began, “but that’s not all I remembered.”

You blinked, confusion spreading across your face. “What do you mean?”

“I remembered more than just my own name,” Haku continued, his voice soft but firm. “I remembered your name too.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in confusion. “My… name?”

Haku nodded, his gaze unwavering. “When Chihiro helped me, something else came back. Something I had forgotten until now. I didn’t just regain my freedom. I remembered that I’m bound to you too.”

Your mind was spinning. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I took your name too,” he said softly. “I’ve always been tied to you. That hasn’t changed, and it never will.”

Tears blurred your vision as you processed his words, the overwhelming realization sinking in. “You… took my name?”

“Yes,” Haku said gently, his hand resting over yours, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’m not leaving you. I never planned to.”

For the first time, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The loneliness that had been suffocating you began to ease, if only a little. Haku wasn’t leaving—not without you.

“I thought…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, the words catching in your throat.

“I know,” Haku whispered, his hand squeezing yours gently. “But you don’t have to push me away. We’re in this together.”

The weight of everything that had happened—the distance, the fear of losing him, the pain of seeing him with Chihiro—began to lift, just a little. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt less alone.

The Space Between Us

Pairing: Howl Pendragon x Reader (You)

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: -2,500 words

Synopsis: After feeling like an outsider in Howl’s castle, you decide to leave and start a new life elsewhere. When Howl finds you after weeks of searching, unresolved feelings and deep conversations arise, forcing you to choose between your new life and the one you left behind.

The atmosphere in the castle had shifted. At first, it was subtle—small things you could shrug off. But as days passed, the feeling of being on the outside grew heavier.

Calcifer’s crackling laughter filled the hearth as he teased Markl about some spell gone wrong, their playful banter echoing through the kitchen. Sophie would often flit in and out, her smile bright as she checked on Howl or helped Markl with his studies. Everything seemed to fit perfectly—like they had become this seamless family. And then, there was you, standing in the corner, watching it all unfold.

You stirred the soup absentmindedly, your mind miles away. Every laugh that wasn’t shared with you, every whispered conversation you weren’t part of, felt like another wall going up between you and them. It was a ridiculous feeling—this was their home, and you had chosen to be here. But lately, it felt like you were nothing more than a guest overstaying your welcome.

You wanted to join in, to feel like you belonged, but every time you opened your mouth, you felt out of place. It seemed so effortless for them. Howl and Sophie had a natural rhythm, their bond evident in the smallest gestures. Calcifer adored Sophie, and Markl looked up to Howl as if he were his world. Where did that leave you?

In the kitchen, the feeling of distance only grew. You caught the way Howl looked at Sophie—there was a fondness there, but not in the way that cut deeply. No, that wasn’t the source of your jealousy. It was the way he gravitated toward her, how easily they laughed together, how it felt like they shared a world you weren’t a part of. You were simply… there.

There was no resolution that night. No sudden gesture or words of comfort from Howl or anyone else. The tension in your chest remained as you ate in silence, your thoughts louder than any conversation happening at the table. As the evening went on, you excused yourself early, retreating to your room with a heaviness that refused to lift.

That’s when the idea started to form—leaving. It wasn’t impulsive; it had been brewing in your mind for some time now. You were tired of feeling like an outsider in the place that was supposed to be your home.

One night, when everyone was asleep, you began packing in silence. Your hands shook slightly as you folded your clothes, but your heart was resolute. You couldn’t stay here any longer. The moving castle wasn’t where you belonged. Not anymore.

Calcifer had been suspicious for days, his flames dimming every time you walked by. He’d asked if you were alright, but you only smiled at him, saying you were fine. But now, as your bag was halfway full, Calcifer noticed. His flames flickered in a nervous dance.

"You’re really going to leave, aren’t you?" His voice crackled quietly, barely more than a whisper of fire.

You paused, feeling guilt twist in your gut. "It’s better this way, Calcifer. I don’t belong here anymore."

"That’s not true," he protested, his flames flaring brighter. "You’re part of this place, part of us."

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. If you stayed a moment longer, you’d break. You’d crumble under the weight of their kindness and the hope that things could somehow go back to how they were before Sophie arrived.

Markl must have overheard the quiet exchange, for suddenly, there was a knock on your door, and his small figure appeared in the doorway, his wide eyes filled with hurt. "Y/N… don’t go."

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes, but you forced a smile. "I have to, Markl. You’re all going to be okay without me."

"But I’m not okay without you," he argued, his voice cracking with emotion.

You crossed the room and knelt down, cupping his face with one hand. "You’ll be fine, Markl. Howl and Sophie… they’ll take care of you."

He didn’t look convinced, and his lower lip trembled. "What about you? Who’s going to take care of you?"

That nearly broke you, but you swallowed the lump in your throat and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I’ll be alright. I promise."

The next morning, you were gone.

Calcifer and Markl felt it immediately—the absence was like a gaping hole in the castle. When Howl and Sophie woke to find your room empty, an eerie silence settled over them all. Howl was the first to speak, his voice low and filled with disbelief.

"She’s gone," he murmured, his hand clenched tightly around the back of a chair. "Why didn’t I see it coming?"

Markl’s tears spilled over, and Calcifer’s flames dimmed with guilt, both of them feeling as if they had somehow failed to stop you.

Howl’s usual calm was nowhere to be found as he paced the length of the room, his frustration mounting. "Why didn’t she say anything?"

Sophie stood quietly, her eyes soft with understanding. She didn’t need to say anything. She knew the quiet hurt that had been growing in you for weeks.

"I’ll find her," Howl said, his voice hard with determination. "I’ll bring her back."

Without waiting for an answer, Howl set out, Markl at his side, the two of them scouring the nearby towns. Days turned into weeks with no sign of you. It was as if you had vanished without a trace.

Howl’s heart slammed in his chest as he neared the entrance of the small, homely restaurant. He had been searching for so long that he almost couldn’t believe it when he saw you standing there, your hair tied back in a loose bun, an apron slung over your shoulders. The morning fog drifted lazily around the quiet town, but all he could focus on was you.

There you were—alive and seemingly content.

He stepped forward, his breath caught in his throat. You turned around at the sound of his approach, and your eyes met his. For a brief second, the world around you both seemed to blur, leaving only the two of you.

"Y/N..." His voice was soft, filled with a mixture of disbelief and relief.

You froze, your chest tightening as you took in the sight of him. Howl, disheveled and tired, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability you rarely saw from him. It was clear that he had been looking for you for a long time, but you didn’t move. You didn’t speak. You simply stared at him, your heart conflicted between the life you had built and the one you had left behind.

"You found me," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Howl stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I never stopped looking."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The tension between you was palpable, and you could feel your heart race as his presence stirred old feelings you had tried to bury.

"Why did you leave?" Howl’s voice cracked with emotion, his expression raw. "You didn’t even give me a chance to—"

"Because I didn’t belong there," you interrupted, your tone sharper than you intended. "Everyone fit together so perfectly—Sophie, Markl, even Calcifer. They all have their place with you. But me? I was just... there. Watching from the sidelines."

Howl frowned, his brows furrowing in confusion. "You were never just watching, Y/N. You’ve always been part of us. I never meant to—"

"You never meant to," you repeated with a bitter laugh, stepping back from him. "I know. But it doesn’t change the fact that I felt like I was slowly disappearing in that castle. You and Sophie… you two—"

Howl’s eyes widened as he quickly shook his head. "It’s not like that. Sophie and I—she’s not—"

"Stop," you said, holding up your hand to cut him off. "I’m not asking for an explanation. I’m not blaming her either. But I saw how well she fit into your life, into the castle, into everything you and Markl and Calcifer had built. And I just… didn’t."

The words hurt to say out loud, but it was the truth you had been holding onto for so long. The truth that made you leave.

Howl took another step forward, his hand reaching for yours, but you pulled back before he could touch you. His face fell, frustration and helplessness washing over him. "Please. Come back with me. We can fix this."

You shook your head, your heart clenching painfully. "I can’t, Howl. I can’t go back to feeling like I’m always on the outside, like I’m always chasing after something that’s just out of reach."

He looked at you, eyes pleading. "But I need you. I didn’t realize how much until you were gone. You belong with us—with me."

Your chest tightened at his words, but you forced yourself to stay firm. "You don’t need me, Howl. You have Sophie. You have your family."

Howl’s frustration bubbled to the surface as he ran a hand through his messy hair, his voice strained. "This isn’t about Sophie. It’s about us. It’s about what I want. And I want you to come home."

His words struck a chord in you, but you were resolute. Home. That word didn’t mean the same thing to you anymore. This restaurant, this small town—it was starting to feel more like home than the castle ever had. Here, you were your own person. You were building a life for yourself that didn’t revolve around fitting into someone else’s world.

"I am home," you said softly, your eyes locking with his. "I’ve found something here, Howl. I’ve found something that’s mine."

He stared at you, disbelief and hurt clouding his expression. "So, that’s it? You’re choosing this place over us? Over me?"

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice, but you held your ground. "I’m choosing what’s best for me. And right now, that means staying here."

For a long moment, Howl stood in silence, his face a mixture of anger, confusion, and something deeper—something that mirrored the ache in your own heart.

He looked like he wanted to argue, to say something that would change your mind. But he didn’t. He didn’t have the words. Instead, he let out a sharp breath and took a step back, the distance between you feeling wider than ever.

"Fine," he muttered, his jaw tight. "But don’t expect me to stop trying."

You watched as he turned on his heel, his cloak billowing behind him as he walked away, disappearing into the morning fog. The weight of his absence settled heavily in your chest, but you didn’t chase after him.

This time, you were choosing yourself.

Days passed, and though Howl’s visit haunted your thoughts, you carried on with your life in the town. The restaurant became your sanctuary, and the steady rhythm of your days provided a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You had carved out a space for yourself here, and while there were moments of doubt, you knew in your heart that you had made the right decision.

Calcifer’s warmth and Markl’s laughter still echoed in your memories, but they felt distant now—like a past you had gently set aside.

And then, every so often, when you least expected it, you would catch sight of a familiar shadow in the distance. You would feel the pull of magic in the air—the faintest trace of Howl’s presence lingering, watching from afar.

But he didn’t come any closer.

And neither did you.

You both had made your choices.

industry baby: bts jeon jungkook collab

lights, cameras, action!

turn the lights down low and the music up for the newst collab to hit mainstream screens around you. whether you’re reading about this through the hottest magazine in town, hearing about it through the newest tracks to hit streaming platforms or watching it all go down on demand; immerse yourself with the incredible seventeen new fics from our talented writers that are bound to be the newest talk of the town. afterall, we’re all part of the industry, baby.

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“You Broke Me”

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Just clingy, fluffy Yoongi after Reader comes home after a month-long trip

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Suggestive, Swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I got a little carried away with this one, so it is just nothing but tooth-rotting fluff. I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

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You weren’t surprised when Yoongi insisted on picking you up at the airport, even though you told him that he didn’t have to, that you could just get a cab home so he wouldn’t have to risk being spotted, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He’d been telling you for days that waiting at home would have driven him crazy and that he wanted to see you as soon as possible.

In previous relationships, Yoongi had never really considered himself to be the needy type, but something about you had changed him drastically in that department. Now, he didn’t care if it made him sound melodramatic, the last three weeks without you while you were overseas visiting family had been absolute hell for Yoongi.

Later, as you walked through the terminal, it was easy for you to spot him. Even with the bucket hat and mask hiding his face, you could’ve recognized him anywhere, eyes scrunching up in a smile as he watched your steps begin to pick up speed until you were practically running to him.

As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you into a crushing hug, an audible sigh leaving him as he hooked his arms tightly around you.

“Hi.” You giggled.

“Hey.” He said, burying his face in your neck.

You let yourself relax into his hold, closing your eyes in contentment. After having gone nearly a month without his touch, the warmth of his body against yours felt like absolute heaven.

Eventually, you started to pull away in order to see his face, but he tightened his grip to keep you where you were instead. “Just a little more.” He muttered.

You chuckled. “Yoongi, people are looking.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He grumbled, squeezing you more to prove his point.

After another long moment, he finally released his hold on you, pulling back just enough to cup your face, his eyes dancing with happiness as they met yours.

“Ready to go home?” He grinned.

“So ready.”

He quickly helped you wrangle all your luggage together before heading to the car, making sure to keep one hand free in order to hold yours as you walked.

On the ride home, you talked about your flight and the trip, his hand never leaving yours for more than a few seconds, letting them rest together on the center console.

Once you got home, he quickly set your bags down by the door before turning and dragging you to the sofa, pulling you down so that you were straddling him.

“What are you doing?!” You squealed.

“Catching up.” He said simply, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I have been neglected for an entire month, it’s a miracle I haven’t shriveled up and died.”

“We talked literally everyday.” You pointed out.

“ ‘s not the same, and you know it.” He groaned, letting his lips drag along your jaw before returning to yours, silencing any further potential argument or teasing.

Although Yoongi was normally quite physically affectionate with you, you weren’t used to Yoongi being this needy and insistent, though you weren’t complaining by any means, following his lead as he turned his head slightly to the side to deepen the kiss, your fingers having slipped into his hair and giving a slight pull, earning a pleased sound from him.

At this moment, however, your stomach decided to announce itself, much to your embarrassment and Yoongi’s amusement, earning you one of his breathy laughs as you separated.

“Have you eaten?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Not since this morning.”

“Aish, no wonder your stomach’s complaining.” He said, sitting up more and rummaging for his phone. “Here, I’ll order us some food and then help you unpack.”

“You don’t have to do that, I can do it myself.” You said.

“Humour me, would you?” He frowned at you, making you laugh this time.

The two of you made quick work of unpacking your suitcases, chucking clothes into the wash and putting the rest of your things back into their usual places around the house.

As you were unpacking the last bag, he came over and wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind as you continued.

“Are you okay?” You finally asked, still thrown by his uncharacteristic clinginess.

“Mmm, just missed you.” He mumbled, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Yeah?” You said, glancing back at him, biting back a grin as you took in the positively love drunk expression on his face.

“Mhm, so much.” He hummed, burying his face in your neck as he spoke. “Turns out I can’t sleep without you.”

“Oh no.” You cooed, turning around in his hold to cup his face.

“Yep, I think you broke me.” He pouted, making you chuckle.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’ve broke me too. Here.” You held out a dark grey hoodie that had been tucked at the bottom of the case.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for that!” He exclaimed, snatching it and looking at you in disbelief. “You little thief!”

“It smelled like you.” You explained quietly, avoiding his gaze as you felt your face heat up self consciously.

You were expecting one of his usual teasing remarks, what you received instead, however, was him tackling you to the bed, pressing more kisses to your face and neck.

“You’re really fucking cute, you know that?” He said. “I can’t fucking stand it.”

The fact that you had stole one of his hoodies should’ve annoyed him, normally it would’ve, but in the moment all he was thinking was that it showed how you had missed him, and knew that your were going to miss him, making his own longing for you seem justified, even though it didn’t need to be.

“I love you, so much.” He said, slightly out of breath as he stared down at you.

“I love you too.” You replied, smiling up at him.

“Promise you’ll never leave me for that long again?”

“I promise.” You swore, kissing his nose and making him chuckle.

Just then, the doorbell rang, making you both jump slightly in surprise.

“That’s probably the food.” You reminded him.

He let his head droop down against your chest, letting out a low whine. “I wasn’t done yet.”

“We have all night.” You giggled, patting his head gently before nudging him to get up.

You had all the time in the world.

if-then

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 7k

glimpse: you're an alien in prince jungkook's planet — both literally and figuratively.

alternatively, jungkook gives his nickname for you to someone else in a fit of anger, and you've never been more upset.

[ fluff, angst, painfully oblivious n dense alien koo, mutual pining (yes MUTUAL!!!!), the glaring concept of not being good n whole enough to deserve love (yikes but i Swear it gets better), mentions of injuries ]

notes: after being asked for literal years to write an alien au, it's finally here!!!! mwah thank u for patiently waiting :D

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s fond of appraising things.

He’s fond of assigning values to things that may or may not hold some bit of importance to his life, whether its value proves itself in the present or the future. Jungkook likes setting his literal ducks in a row, and the little inanimate yellow tokens that his brother brought back from Earth serve as a discreet (not really, though) reminder that he may have some hoarder tendencies.

Jungkook’s not really a hoarder-hoarder; it just happens that he likes keeping things, sometimes for no apparent reason at all.

He likes swiping the flashlights that the night guards use to stash in his own personal “emergency” (not that there’s ever been one, nor will there ever be) cabinet, just because he wants to be prepared for a natural catastrophe that won’t probably ever happen in his area. He’s already seen a couple of films that humans have made, and if ever comes a time that Planet Twell has a dinosaurian monster battle it out with a gigantic prehistoric ape, Jungkook’s proud to say that he has a couple flashlights for him and his brothers to use.

In addition, Jungkook likes picking flowers just before they go out of season. His eldest brother’s already cussed him out for it, but he’ll still do what he does best (?), if best means “preserving” the flowers by drowning them in water every ten minutes so they wouldn’t wilt and he’d still get to see them during off-peak days.

Prince Jungkook likes appraising things in his own definition and pace. They’re never categorized in his head for what they actually do, but for what kind of unexplainable fulfillment fills his chest whenever he thinks about the item.

The youngest prince of Twell didn’t like it when there was a commotion at the lily field and the citizens ran out to see what it was about, instead of eating their slices of cake with the fondant that he made out of scratch. Jungkook didn’t like the fondant either because there must be something insanely wrong with itself (or it’s just that he made it just as bad), but he didn’t like being alone either when finding out about the taste.

He didn’t like seeing the tiger lilies he planted himself squished underneath an unknown figure, who may or may not have fallen from the sky, judging by the way you’re wincing alone with no aircraft, no parachute, nor any other person with you.

Jungkook didn’t like seeing you, an alien, who’s just as confused with the entire ordeal. You can’t remember anything about how or why you’ve gotten here — all you know is your name and who you are, and unexpectedly so, the first prince who’s gotten to where you are isn’t so thrilled about the fact.

He’s fond of appraising things, and although he’s not extremely excited about you just as he had been when Yoongi brought home trinkets from him during his trip to Earth (including the very seeds for the tiger lilies you’ve destroyed), he’ll make do.

Jungkook will try and make you mean something, if not everything, to him.

.

.

.

Prince Jungkook has come to learn that you’re part human.

You’re neither fully his kind nor his type (or atleast that’s what he thinks so) and he doesn’t know what to feel about that. He doesn’t know what to feel about only the slight panic that filled you knowing that it’s still unexplained of how or why you’re in Twell; even more, he doesn’t know what to feel that you’re neither scared nor intimidated by him.

You don’t know what to feel either when Jungkook, who’s only mildly shocked about your existence in general, delivers his first question to you and it’s not of the sort that you expected. He looks soft and round, unlike the hearsay about his kind that only amounts to half of you. He doesn’t look aloof and unaccepting at all — if anything, he looks at you like you’re the one who’s cruel instead of him.

Jungkook almost completely does not care about who you are or where you’re from, but what he cares about is if you have any trinkets with you that he could possibly have. Out of anything he could possibly solicit from you, he only asks for so little, no matter how odd.

“T-trinkets?” you squeak, brows raising in surprise. “I’m sorry, Prince Jungkook — y-you’re asking if I have trinkets so you could have them?”

“Yeah,” he nods, lips pursed and cheeks puffed out as he confirms your confusion. “It’s my birthday, and I want to have a trinket.”

“Oh,” you blink once, twice,  a small smile playing on your lips to replace the fact that you’ve been confused for the entire half hour since you came back to consciousness. “Happy birthday, prince.”

“I see.” 

“It’s thank you,” you mutter automatically, coughing lightly when he only knits his brows at you. He’s cute this way — innocent, even. “I-I mean you’re supposed to say thank you when someone greets you, or when someone does something nice for you in general.”

“Okay. My brother forgot to teach me that,” Jungkook hums in recognition, eyes briefly glowing with a bluish hue before he regains his composure. “Thank you.”

You wonder if staring is also frowned upon in this planet.

You wonder if it would get you a mean glare or a sarcastic snicker if you were to stare at Prince Jungkook a little longer without any thoughts floating in your brain, except for the fact that you are completely unaware that you’re already zoning out on him. 

You wonder if it would be wrong for your eyes to take in every single detail of him from his short hair that softly falls onto his forehead, to his supposed birthday attire that only consists of a white button-up, to his gleaming royal jewelry that rightfully so, only looks like it would belong to him and him only.

“Trinket?” he reminds you, head tilting and eyes widening as he cranes his neck to look at you beyond the table that separates the both of you.

“Oh! U-uhm,” you scour your pockets immediately just to present something, and bluntly put, you haven’t even checked your well-being, much less the possessions you have on yourself. You feel more than relieved to know that it isn’t empty, because oddly enough, you’d feel a little upset— a little down if you were to disappoint a prince you just met not more than an hour ago. “I have this handkerchief, I guess.”

“Perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, leaning to grab the baby blue square from you that’s embroidered with your initials that are unfamiliar to him. He clutches it into his hand tightly with a smile on his face, the happiness later dwindling when he realizes he has no clue of what he’s holding. “What is it supposed to do?”

You blank at that, meekly scratching your temple. “Nothing, I think. It’s just there for most people, but I’ve never had to use it.”

“You’ve never had to use it, but you still take it with you?” he attempts to clarify, a slight frown embedded into his lips as he looks down on your averagely prized possession.

“I don’t mean never as in never ever, and I’ve used it a couple of times like everyone else does, but it’s just-…” you trail off, shrugging helplessly because you can’t describe the concept of nothing to him easily. “It’s just there.”

You’re more than fatigued and a lot more confused (albeit less worried) about the semantics of your presence here in Twell, specifically in Prince Jungkook’s office, but the latter doesn’t seem to take mind as he takes you with an open mind.

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll have it,” he announces, shifting his eyes between you and your (his now) handkerchief that he’s slowly and hesitantly unraveling, only to put back into its original square form after every move.

“You will?” you almost snort, a tiny bit amused that a prince is clenching your handkerchief like its the most interesting thing in the galaxy.

“Yes,” he hums distractedly, looking up at you as he lightly scratches the embroidered teddy bear at the corner of the fold. “I will have you too.”

“You will?! You’re not going to dispose me or anything?” you straighten immediately, eyes more frantic and disbelieving to hear that you’re being taken care of (or something of the sort) than just awhile ago when you were unsure of your fate. “Why?”

“Don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs just as easily as you do. “I just want to.”

( ♡ ) 

Prince Jungkook isn’t so bad, and neither is Twell.

The planet isn’t so bad in the sense that although you don’t feel the most welcome you have ever been in your entire life, there’s a recognition that seeps into your bones that some of them, if not most, would set out a plate for you if ever Jungkook came into their homes. He’s the social butterfly of his family; the baby lamb that’s set out into the field to check up on everyone else and act as a mannequin of sorts that’s a little less superficial, and a little more warm.

Jungkook isn’t so bad either in the sense that although it’s the bare minimum to do so, he doesn’t throw his kindness back to your face even in the most critical situations, with now being the sole exception.

With the exception of now, Prince Jungkook has not ever acted rashly towards you. He wasn’t annoyed with you when you kept asking him questions of what it would mean to act as his security detail, and he wasn’t irked either when your questions about your heritage (and his by extension) toed personal lines that no one else would dare cross.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never acted rude towards you. He wasn’t as guarded with your existence like his older brothers were; as a matter of fact, he even came to your defense when some of them theorized that you were only here in their planet to act as a precursor for their downfall.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never been this cruel; with the ultimatum of his pride over your heart, he’s never made you feel this different and alienated from him — with, of course, the exception of now.

Heartbreak is a human emotion.

The weakness of the concept is disturbingly human and vulnerable. There’s no escape from it, even if the said percentage of human in your blood is barely half and could light a candle to your more evolved, far more powerful Twellian genes. It’s a sickening emotion to feel, much more have it get you carried away from what you have to do at hand.

The grip that said heartbreakhas on you is unimaginable, far more different than what your people, not humans, tell you how it’d feel like. There had already been an uproar when it was announced that you were appointed as Prince Jungkook’s guard, the news of an impure Twellian bearing the coveted position receiving every reaction possible — from fear, to distaste, and even to genuine amazement.

All of the kingdom’s advisers had theorized that despite you of being impure heritage, youwere superior in terms of physical capabilities. With everything else you’ve been theorized to lack at, you bite at the possibility that the ache in your chest is attributed to your stunted emotions.

You feel painfully human. You feel what heartbreak is, and compared to what others have made it out to be, it’s an emotion that you can’t put into words.

“You can’t, Jungkook,” you firmly say once more with your ears ringing, not because the volume of the club makes you want to get down on your knees, but because you’ve perhaps heard something far worse; far more grating, and far more overwhelming than what your heart could even bear. "All of your brothers specifically insisted for me to bring you back before midnight."

They say that your hearing’s supposed to be better. They say that you could see far more colors than what your alien counterpart could ever do. They say that for everything else you lacked, you made up for with the way you’re more physically advanced and therefore adept to protecting the planet’s youngest prince.

No one’s ever said that you’ll be safe from Jungkook himself.

"Jungkook, let's go home. Please," you plead through your teeth, the word you’ve last spoken being the latest term you’ve taught him. Jungkook, along with everyone else, is not familiar with begging; they’re not familiar with desperation so wrung out, there’s actually a word made just for it.

Jungkook only scowls at you, eyes turning a bright red as opposed to his usual pink allotted for you. "Butt out," he murmurs, tightly crossing his arms as his nostrils flare involuntarily. ”You promised me I could be out tonight."

You’re starting to get over the heartbreak little by little, the tantrum thrown by the young prince making you indifferent. 

Maybe you just misheard a few minutes ago — maybe, it was only a fluke and you didn’t hear it correctly the first time. Maybe it’s only your faulty impureness that made you susceptible to just hearing your nickname out of nowhere. Maybe, it’s not heartbreak that you were feeling, but rather only a subdued version of it by seeing Jungkook disappointed at you doing your job.

It’s your fault, you guess. Perhaps it’s the fault of the bustle of the club and the hundreds of dialects you could hear all at once finally got to you, overwhelming you to the point that you heard Jungkook calling for your name, despite not looking at you all.

You’re about to plead even more for the both of you to go back already; to save him from a lecture from all of his brothers and for you to be spared an even harsher scolding because they think you’ve gone too soft for him — but then you hear it. Again. 

Jungkook clenches his jaw tightly, eyes glowing a bright magenta before he opens his mouth.

"Come on, princess," he calls you by his term of endearment for you, yet his hand is outstretched for the female Twellian on his side.

He’s not calling you — he’s not even paying attention to you. Jungkook isn’t giving you a shred of his focus but he wants you to hear him call someone else the endearment he had playfully made up for you, to which you grew accustomed to without fail. He wants you to see how he gives it to someone else easily, the syllables falling from his tongue easily getting into the girl’s head.

Jungkook wants you to know how angry he is over you doing your job, he hits you where it hurts. He has no idea what heartbreak is supposed to feel like, but he doubts that you’d even feel that emotion over what he’s done — and if you actually do over something seemingly simple (for him atleast), he could only think that everyone else is exaggerating what it felt like.

Your heart, whatever is human of it, skips. It tightens and it loosens alarmingly so, almost as if you have no control for the liquid hurt that compromises you.

“I’ll show you a good time tonight, princess,” Jungkook whispers to her ear loudly for good measure, eyes darting up at you, only for him to see that you’ve been watching the whole time. 

You almost can’t tear your eyes away until Jungkook crashes his lips into hers, your nickname easily falling out of his lips as if the endearment is free for everyone; as if it’s never been yours in the first place and you only borrowed it out of desperation.

Your whole flight home is quiet.

Jungkook makes it back home before midnight, but you don’t.

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s been looking for you the whole day.

He’s been looking for you since he woke up, and that was fifteen ungodly hours ago when he had risen in a cold sweat. Jungkook felt sick to his stomach, and despite his insistence that something must be severely wrong with him for him to feel that way, the palace doctor (along with every other physician, healer, and reader he knew of) confirmed that nothing was out of place.

Jungkook’s supposedly okay, yet it feels like every part of him is being wrung dry. There’s an ache to his chest that renders him stupid because he feels like he’s forgotten every word, every lesson, and every vaguest bit of semblance that would detail about what he felt.

All of a sudden, Jungkook feels like he’s forgotten what the palace looks like. It’s as if he’s forgotten how tiles are supposed to feel cold on bare feet and how bleak his days are when he doesn’t have you by his side, even if the palace is also occupied by his brothers and the grounds are teeming with staff.

The young prince suddenly feels that he’s forgotten the very layout of his home because his mouth is agape at each room he walks in, simply because you’re not there. He’s practically turned the palace upside down just to grab a whiff of you somehow, and yet you’re nowhere to be found. 

Nothing from his or his brothers’ belongings are missing. There’s not a single piece of furniture that’s tilted askew. Nothing has been taken from Jungkook except his peace of mind and the capacity to just stay still because your sudden disappearance unsettles him like no other.

.

.

.

You’re back home, except you’re no longer dressed in the same outfit you left him in. 

Your uniform’s been ditched for something more casual — something more worn and lived in to the point that it looks like a shirt that’s never been yours in the first place. The sight of you, dressed in clothes that’s not yours, puts a bitter taste to Jungkook’s mouth.

He’s never been that selfish before. He’s generous and lenient as far as a prince could go, and yet he’s never felt this territorial over something seemingly as trivial as a shared garment.

The concern feels too vulnerable to the point that only a silly human, something Jungkook’s not, would consider it as a burden.

“Where were you?” he asks with the gentleness he didn’t think he’d possess after being worried shitless about you, the panic he had harbored for the longest time immediately dissipating at you.

Jungkook wants to be mad at you so, so, so badly. He wants to be angry at the way it was irresponsible for you to be alone because after all, your strength wouldn’t compensate for the gleaming fact that you’re not from here in the first place.

“I was on my leave,” you answer simply, keeping your hands behind your back as if this was any other outing with Prince Jungkook and not just Jungkook, the same man who’d call you princess for fun and hold your hand just for the sake of it.

“I didn’t say you could be on leave,” he lowers his voice, jaw tightening at the sight of you being indifferent towards him.

“I asked your brothers.”

Jungkook feels that sickness again. He feels that tinge of metal that lingers in the roof of his mouth and he wants to spit it out in front of you just to see if he’d find something else that’s not the sensations he’s been experiencing since you came around; if he’d find something else that’s not your doing yet affects him just as much.

“What if I needed protecting, hm? What if something happened to me while you were gone?” Jungkook half-taunts, shrinking on himself despite doing his hardest to appear big by crossing his arms.

“I knew you were in good hands, prince,” you tense, the tide that comes with your tone washing over Jungkook until he drowns in the realization that you were there while she was in his quarters. “I made to sure to hear that you were in very good company before I left.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s on a self-imposed break from his duties.

The prince’s duties almost exclusively involved chatting and being charismatic in general, along with the occasional goodwill event wherein he had to be all over the place just to take care of things, and not once did he ever take this long of a radio silent break — or atleast that’s what one of his brothers said.

He’s been cooped up in his room since you came back two weeks ago. Despite your absence (if you could even call it that) that barely lasted for an entire day, along with your confrontation just spanning within minutes, it’s been theorized by one of Jungkook’s brothers, again, that it’s because of your doing.

The youngest prince is theorized to be sulking over you and you simply cannot believe it.

You refuse to believe that Jungkook is bedridden with sadness because to begin with, his kind isn’t even supposed to feel such type of intense emotion. He shouldn’t be swayed by you — he shouldn’t be preoccupied with such pathetic, human emotion that you thought only you could feel because of him.

You rebuff the idea that he’s paralyzed with guilt, not only because you feel that it’s physically impossible for him to be, but because it’s him. Someone of Jungkook’s power and influence wouldn’t be so ridden with guilt that he refuses to show his face to you because he’s ashamed of hurting you.

You reject with your whole heart each and every idea that his brothers pitch you. You stay stationary with Jungkook and yet you will yourself to amount to something, even if it isn’t for him, just so the sickening feeling of being replaced won’t ever creep up to you.

You’re in love with him and it’s terrifying.

What’s even more terrifying is that you’re not the only one who knows so.

“I suggest not falling in love with Jungkook.”

You look up so sharply, your neck aches at the speed. Yoongi stands above you with a perfunctory smile, and with just the tiny bit of effort for him to come near you almost makes you forget that he’s Jungkook’s brother who had been particularly vocal about being wary of you.

“I’m sorry?” you murmur in disbelief, eyes wide and unblinking as you take into account his perfect tone.

“It’s obvious, you know?” he smiles tightly, pulling a chair to sit himself down across from you. Yoongi looks relaxed as he takes you in, almost as if he hasn’t spent half a year avoiding you. “I’ve seen the way you look at my brother. I’ve seen it over and over again when I was sent for a mission on your planet.”

You want to ask him why he’s telling you this. You want to ask badly why he’s saying this now when you’ve been certain for the longest time that your adoration for Jungkook wasn’t apparent in a land of creatures that don’t know what love, in your own terms, is supposed to look like.

You want to ask Yoongi why it shouldn’t be Jungkook, but you can’t bring yourself to — not because you know the answer deep down in your subconscious, but because you’re afraid that he would only make sense—

That he’d only solidify why Jungkook should never be in your orbit.

“Oh,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you like my planet then?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I’m sorry, my prince,” you immediately apologize, looking down on your lap as you wait for the impeding lecture; maybe even the impending punishment (you’re not sure what it is, but you know it would hurt someway and somehow) that comes with loving the prince, even by the sidelines.

“Jungkook is a wildcard at best,” he trails off, exhaling heavily as he listens for the heartbeat in the room behind you that houses his brother. “He’s brash and stubborn. He’s driven by emotions we are not even supposed to have.”

If Yoongi stands up now and jiggles the knob to Jungkook’s room with just the slightest bit of force, he can guarantee that the latter would be falling face-down to the floor, just because of the way he has his ears pressed to the door.

Jungkook is moping and sulking and to this day, he does remain miserable — the aforementioned factors don’t stop him from being desperate and nosy.

“What I’m saying is that he’s weak, Y/N,” Yoongi sighs. “The strong isn’t for the weak. That’s always been the case.”

“I know I’m weak, prince, but I-…”

“What?” the prince laughs out loud, the smile on his face wide and cheery. He’s so amused with you that his eyes glow into pink, throwing his head back as he regains his composure. “Jungkook’s the weak one. Not you, obviously,” he snorts. “He’s basically a loser with a crown on his head. He’s the one who doesn’t deserve you and not the other way around.”

You’re not the one who’s being insulted, and yet it feels like it. Your throat tingles and your ribs burn at the sudden urge for you to protect Jungkook, even if he’s in no real threat; even if it feels like all the baser parts of you are coming together just to make sense of the way you grow simultaneously weak and strong for him.

Jungkook, the actual subject who’s being insulted and is proving his brother right by being weak because he’s wallowing in his room out of self-deprecation, sadly hums to himself in agreement.

“I’m not-…”

“Don’t refute it — that’s an order.”

“Prince Yoongi,” you relent, trying to find the right words. “May I ask why you’re telling me this?”

“Because Jungkook’s weak,” Yoongi answers simply. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to be weak with him and for him.”

( ♡ ) 

You’re eating dinner by yourself in the staff room when Jungkook walks in.

It’s the first you’ve seen of him in three weeks. He’s evidently moving on from what seems to have been a rough period for him, right when you’re at your lowest that you’ve ever been.

Prince Jungkook decides that after three weeks, he should take you by surprise and meet you in the staff room wherein you’re alone, pushing your dinner around your plate instead of doing any other menial task you’ve assigned yourself just so it would feel like you’re in use.

You’re just there. You just happen to be there and no one, even you, could do anything about it. You just happen to be there with no exact purpose and it’s gnawing at you from the inside out.

It feels all over again that your family is the runt of the entire extended bloodline. It feels that you’re not remarkable enough for your relatives to surround you and that you don’t amount to anything enough, in whatever aspect it is, to get a shred of attention that isn’t pity,

It feels like the sinking sensation in your chest wherein you have to see that all your mom could contribute to the table is her trusted homemade recipe during holidays, lost amongst a sea full of pre-ordered meals that only your relatives could afford. Like it’s how your dad’s side of the family is borderline batshit crazy and he’s the only one that turned out to be good, and you can’t do anything but watch strangers your have for blood relatives belittle you. Familiarly so, it’s like you’re a kid again with your siblings sitting on the carpet and cleaning up wrapping paper from gifts, not because the gifts are for you, but because you just happen to be there.

You feel like the alien that you are wherein you don’t belong; wherein your family has to sit on the spare chairs dug up from the basement, situated on a portable table outside of the actual, solid dining table where everyone’s sat. 

Jungkook sits with you at that dusty, old portable table. He sits himself on the flimsy chair that’s only used for stepping and for laundry.

Jungkook sits with you, not because he just happens to be there, but because he’s there for you.

“I’m… sorry for calling someone else princess.”

“It’s no problem,” you murmur, putting your fork down as you keep your hands glued to your knees underneath the table.

“But there is a problem,” Jungkook counters, lowering his head to get you to look at him yet you don’t budge. “I’m not okay with calling anyone else princess other than you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Then suit yourself,” you quip, even with your voice shaky and your vision blurry.

“I’m-…” Jungkook starts again, racking his brain for the limited vocabulary he has that surely isn’t enough to make up for his grave msitake. “I’m very sorry for making you feel bad. It must have hurt.”

“It’s no problem.”

“There’s a problem,” he insists. “I’m saying sorry because I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I did,” he frowns, beyond confused to why you keep denying the fact that he’s hurt you in ways he can’t even imagine.

“You really didn’t.”

“Why do you not want me to say sorry?” Jungkook questions, voice raising yet he still looks confused— innocent, even. “Did I… hurt you that much?”

It’s the last straw for you. The pure innocence in Jungkook’s words is and should be the last straw for you because it only makes you realize that he’d never understand you. It resonates in your head, more than ever, that you’ll never be able to understand him fully either because you’ll never be the same.

The only option the universe provides you is for you to love Jungkook halfway.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Prince Jungkook. I shall go back to-…”

“Can I not say sorry to you?” Jungkook bursts, darting his hand out blindly to get a hold on you before you leave.

“You can’t say sorry to me because all of this would feel real,” you ramble, shaking your head vehemently. “You should not say sorry to me because that would mean that I’m hurt because I love you.”

Jungkook looks at you innocently with his eyes wide and lips parted, blissfully unaware of the name to the sensation that keeps tugging at his chest to the point that it feels like it would burst open, yet above all else, he still dives in head-first.

“Can you not love me, princess?” he tilts his head. “Is it not allowed?”

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s words lie heavily on both you and Jungkook.

The prince’s sentiment stays on your chest like a paperweight that only grows heavier the more that you try to push it off. You know Yoongi means well, no matter how his words come across otherwise, but the longer that you think about his own suggestion regarding his brother, the more you feel unsure.

Jungkook’s made complete sense of his brother’s words on the other hand, and instead of being filled with a type of rage that only bubbles up when being looked down on, oddly enough, he comes to the truth quite easily.

He knows the truth that he’s weak despite painting himself the opposite, and he feels it the most now that you’re the one who’s distancing yourself from him. Jungkook feels like swallowing the sun and chasing it down with water when you respond to princess, even if it’s jokingly uttered by his brothers and not said sincerely by him alone.

He knows the truth that he’s the weak one in the family, if not the weakest, whenever he stands next to them. Jungkook may be the poster prince for the citizens but he knows the most out of everyone that he’s not as vital to the kingdom as the others are. He may get an assigned seat at the actual, solid dining table, but he knows that he’s not at the head of it.

He knows he’s weak, with and for you, and that’s never bothered him until it actually did.

Jungkook’s eyesight isn’t as good as yours.

Unlike you, he’s restrained by the entirety of his Twellian blood from immediately focusing his gaze on anything. There’s a lag that registers whenever he fixes his sight on anything, just like everyone else but you, and that hadn’t been a bother to Jungkook the whole time.

He had falsely assumed that since you’re the only one who’s different here, the only exception in the planet by being impure and partially human, you’d be the one who’ll have a hard time adjusting your daily life to his — not the other way around.

Jungkook, who had not once ever felt insecurity before, suddenly feels inferior. He feels like dirt and yet he’s angry, not because of the fact that he comes second to your abilities, but because he can’t do shit when it comes to you.

The prince’s eyesight isn’t good enough to notice the tiny little expressions that litter your face whenever something remotely intriguing happens to you. His hearing isn’t on par with yours because he can’t register the laugh in your voice as quickly as you could recognize his. He’s not on the same level as you and it’s only now that it bothers him—

The realization creeps into Jungkook, slowly yet unsettlingly, when he sees the cut on your cheek; the liquor of inferiority, chased down by Jungkook’s own rage, only hits him the moment he sees that a nasty bruise is blossoming by the corner of your eye.

Jungkook grips your jaw lightly out of nowhere, making you look up at him unexpectedly when you had been only preoccupied with fixing him his drink. The prince, no matter the unmistakeable rage that’s brewing in red, is the softest he’s ever been when it comes to addressing you.

“Who hurt you?” 

He has all his attention on you and it’s almost sickening with the way he doesn’t want to break off. Jungkook’s hand is still on your jaw and his eyes are still fixed on yours and yet his mind, whatever remains rational of it and not just vengeful, is going a million miles per hour.

“Get your hands off me,” you spit, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the vitriol that spills out of him so clearly, the air around both of you shifts.

“I asked you a question,”Jungkook repeats, putting is hand on your wrist firmly instead. He makes the grave mistake of looking down, though, because as soon as he realizes that there’s blood caked underneath your nails and that your knuckles are stained with your own blood, Jungkook can no longer hold himself back. “Who. Hurt. You.”

Jungkook’s reflexes are slow, but the moment your bottom lip trembles in vulnerability and pure bitterness, he feels as if time has caught on to the point that it’s only your anguish that sharpens his senses.

His feelings, even.

“If I tell you, would it make a difference? If I’m considered weak, Jungkook, then that means you’re even weaker,” you scoff, eyes trained on the ground with your head low so you could muffle the tremble in your voice; not that it would make your prince any less attuned to you.

Jungkook’s eyes remain narrowed at you, breathing heavily as you only state the facts not to insult him, but to remind the both of you of your place — or whatever is left clear of it because Jungkook can’t even think straight the longer that he looks at you hurting.

“What, prince? What are you gonna do about it?” you spit as the last resort, standing up abruptly to storm off and make an escape for it just once so you’ll be free of the burden of being yourself in Jungkook’s existence, yet he doesn’t let you.

The grip that the prince has on your arm is unstable yet unyielding at the same time, as if it’s taking everything in Jungkook to remain standing despite wanting to hunch over by the unexplainable tremor that roots from his chest.

(It is taking everything in him.)

“Burn,” he utters. “I’ll burn everything.”

“You’re-…”

“Weaker than you? I know that,” Jungkook interrupts, his lips set in a straight line as he lets himself be swept by the current that is you. “All the more reason to do everything for you then.”

The young prince doesn’t even break his gaze from you once, even if his pupils are trembling and his teeth are chattering out of the sheer trepidation that comes with being scared for someone else who carries your heart with them.

He doesn’t break his gaze from you, even for the briefest second, as he fishes out his (your) handkerchief from his pocket that’s there, not because it just happens to be, but because it’s allotted for you.

To love and to be loved is to feel the sun from both sides, and Jungkook no longer wants the star to swallow him whole because he doesn’t want you to be burned.

Jungkook wants to love you all the way.

perpetual datejust

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 19k

glimpse: when the general public hears the name min yoongi, they know him as the world-famous model who’s beyond talented in his craft. when the modeling industry hears the name min yoongi, they remember you: his resolute, firm, and sometimes rude manager who always puts yoongi’s best interests at heart — no matter what.

alternatively, you’re yoongi’s manager and for the first time ever, you take a break away from him.

[ a lot of angst (not all the way thru i promise!!!), love is mutual but unrealized at first, wholesome heartwarming moments, emotional constipation + hint of codependency, yoongi does some rlly stupid things, so much yearning, mentions of sex tape + intercourse (not between the main pairing), jealousy, swearing, redemption arc (i swear!!!) ]

notes: first fic of 2022 <3 thank you so much for waiting patiently for this piece!! i have to say that although this is one of my angst-heavy pieces, this is perhaps the warmest fic out of all of them (take five, heartburn, hlwwf, lyiaik) !! this is my new favorite since you could see more of the emotional growth and development from the characters <33

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :)

Keep reading

take five

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 10k

glimpse: dr. min yoongi’s a board-certified dermatologist; skilled, renowned, and in-demand — oh and also, he’s divorced.

alternatively, you’re yoongi’s nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out — he never said anything about accepting though.

[ angst, fluff, unrequited love, so much pining ]

notes: inspired by yang seok-hyeong and choo min-ha’s dynamic from hospital playlist!! you don’t necessarily have to watch it in order to read this :D this idea has been sitting in my notes for like a year now (yikes) and i’ve only found the wILL to do it now!! took a short break because i’ve been mostly just pumping out stem koo for the past months, but here’s a yoongi piece to cleanse everyone’s palate!! this has got to be one of my favorite pieces ever hee-hee

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback/requests/love to my askbox anytime!!

[ part two ]

“Now where the hell did you hear that?”

Yoongi looks at you incredulously and for a moment, you think you’ve actually hit homerun with your stupid myth of the day because not only does he roll his eyes at you, he also scoffs and stops in his tracks.

“Just somewhere,” you mumble under your breath and hope that Yoongi doesn’t ask you for the exact source and citation because he already looks irked with what he just heard. “But they say it’s true though! If you don’t immediately drink water when you start having hiccups, you would have a breakout the next day or hours later, even.”

There is bliss in ignorance.

There is bliss and beauty in ignorance and it comes in the form of knitted brows and an agape mouth on Dr. Min, his eyes trained on you as if you asked him the stupidest question he's ever heard (you probably did) in his career and perhaps his lifetime.

Every week, from Monday to Saturday, Yoongi comes to his own clinic between the window of 8 to 8:15 in the morning wearing a bucket hat and his choice of clothing to wear under his white coat. Only his right hand would be occupied by the Louis Vuitton Keepall Bandoulière 45 bag, which he later tosses as soon as he enters the clinic and see his employees scramble to catch and save it, just to give himself a little chuckle every morning. He really couldn't care less if none of them manage to catch it, but it's kind of nice having a pointless yet joyful routine.

Additionally, every week, from Monday to Saturday, you come to Serendipity Aesthetics at 7:00 AM to drop off your things so you could walk to the expensive coffee shop to buy equally overrated coffee because after all, your place of work is in the heart of the luxury district. Between the window of 8 to 8:15, Dr. Min walks in and throws his designer bag into the air, to which every employee tries to catch so there wouldn't be a single scratch (but everyone knows that he literally wouldn't care if nobody could save it), and every single time, you're the one who catches his bag.

Also, every week, from Monday to Saturday, you make sure that you're Dr. Min's first interaction of the day.

It always starts with a pathetic skincare myth that you ask him to verify while he either confirms or denies it for you while walking to his office, giving him his coffee that you buy with your own money. It originally started with you searching compilations online and eventually, they got so boring and repetitive that you started making up your own.

The more ridiculous it is, the more reaction you get from Yoongi.

You quickly learned that by now and every morning, you get to see the way he furrows his eyebrows and you're convinced that if you say your myth in a defensive and completely-swayed tone, Dr. Min would actually look at you to deadpan.

This time, however, you probably struck gold.

"I would actually fire you if you even thought for a second that it would be true."

Granted, maybe the gold you thought you've struck is just plated and would turn green overnight.

"Very funny, Dr. Min. No explanation today?" you try to coax one from him because the door to his office is looking especially near and he doesn't allow you to enter anyway.

"I think it's pretty self-explanatory that I studied to be a doctor for more than a decade, have my own clinic, and threatened to fire you for your useless myth of the day, don't you think?" he hums lowly, wiping his finger to press his code onto his door.

"You do have a point," you sheepishly mumble at being outed more harshly for your tactics, "can I ask you something else though?"

Yoongi's eyes are glued on his phone as he just waves you off to both shoo and acknowledge you at the same time, leaning his weight to the door so he could both watch the highlight reel of a show he watched just last week and carry his bag.

"Later. I'm busy."

"No problem!" you stammer because you're not sure if you're ready to ask him anyway, wordlessly pushing the door open for him because he's deeply immersed on his phone. "Can I ask you over lunch? I-..."

... know a place.

Yoongi's door already closes on your face as the result of him kicking it backwards as he enters, making you take a step back to gather yourself.

You are not ready at all to ask him.

It's no secret that you have a crush on Dr. Min. Not at all. Practically everyone knows how head-over-heels you are for him; even the man himself actually.

It was embarrassing at first when it sinked into you that everyone collectively knows how you trail after him like a stray kitten whose gotten their first feed of the day, but later on, it’s something you actively and unnecessarily took pride in.

That way, you could ward off any other people in the clinic who have an eye on him! Dr. Park says that it’s the equivalent of a dog peeing on a fire hydrant within a street that nobody likes to walk in, but you just dismiss his comment as per usual. You’re sure that it’s impossible that no one likes him a little more than usual as an employee would, but perhaps they’re just not as showy as you are.

You can't pinpoint exactly why you have a crush on him because truth be told, you liked him in entirety. It was gradual, sure, but you liked him as a whole even from the start. Something about him’s so pulling that you find yourself complaining silently sometimes.

Liking him is easy. The variables aren't.

It just so happens that Dr. Min doesn't like you in that way, or in any way at all, but that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that. Everybody starts from zero at one point.

"Not to burst your bubble, buttercup, but you do know that Yoongi used to have a wife, right?"

Jimin, the cosmetic surgeon of Serendipity Aesthetics and Yoongi's business partner, asks you. He has no ill intent — he actually finds it adorable to see you pining after his best friend who's done nothing but turn you down.

It’s harsh, entertaining, but not laughable. Even the secondhand embarrassment and heartbreak makes Jimin look away whenever you ask Yoongi about his weekend. It’s a game of cat and mouse, but the only difference is that the mouse is unfazed and untouchable, and the cat's scared yet determined.

Coincidentally, Jimin's your childhood friend. Both his and your parents would assign him to watch over you even if he's just some years ahead of you. It even strengthened the bond of you treating him as an older brother and him fulfilling the role well, just as annoyingly.

Your communication hasn't been consistent especially when he entered medical school, which is why you've rarely ever heard about Yoongi before you even worked here. None of it matters though because it feels that you’ve been with Jimin for a lifetime in a literal sense, feeling a stroke of fate because somehow, he’s the common string that bridged you and Dr. Min unknowingly.

You like him a healthy amount. In a very respectful, healthy, almost pitiful amount.

"Yeah. I knew that," you sigh dejectedly, stirring your iced coffee that’s already gotten too watered-down for your taste. “She’s the model, right?"

How could you not?

How could you not know who Dr. Min’s ex-wife is because even before you worked in his and Jimin’s clinic, you’ve already heard of her?

You once saw her in an LED billboard once at a prime spot in a busy street. You saw her face on a promotional liquor poster in a convenience store without knowing that she was the wife of your then-crush (who you didn’t know yet) at the time. You see her large signature on the wall at a restaurant you regularly eat at but don’t have the appetite for nowadays.

"Mhmm, Jihye."

Jimin hums in agreement, spooning a portion from your plate and into his mouth because you’re too preoccupied to swat his hand away.

"Is she your best friend?"

Jimin rolls his eyes playful at the tone of your voice who’s suddenly gotten meek. "No, that's you, buttercup.”

You atleast feel comforted that Dr. Min’s ex-wife, whom you barely know, hasn’t managed to snatch perhaps your favorite person in the whole world. She once had Yoongi and that’s something you can stomach because it’s their life you’re not a part of, but something tells you that you’d be a little more bummed to know that Jimin and her are close just like the two of you.

“We were friends at best because I'm close to Yoongi and well... y'know..." He coughs awkwardly, eyes hesitantly looking up at you before he buries his face to the noodles to the point he could feel the steam rise to his face. "I was the best man at their wedding."

Jimin notices the way your mouth is just fixed on your dumpling, unmoving. It's only rare that you ask him about Dr. Min because there's always the guilt that you're just using your friendship with Jimin as leverage to know more about his colleague, but in the few times that you do ask about him, it always has something to do with major facts you can't immediately grasp your head around.

"Don't worry! They were in a relationship for three years, and only married for one. They knew each other even before Yoongi became a resident."

"That does not help me, Jimin. At all."

He only sheepishly scratches the back of his head, going back to his words which he now realizes did nothing to make you feel better.

"Relax. If you say something superlatively dumb enough for your skincare myths, he'll probably take the hint and date you out of pity."

You unclench your mouth on the dumpling, finding no will to chew it now that Jimin, once again, opened his mouth. "Made it even worse, actually."

He's no stranger to you feeling bummed but he knows that he's somehow in a bind because he's in a point of conflict between you and Yoongi, both his best friends. He can't exactly give you false hope in order to cheer you up, but he can't lie either and say that you don't have a solid fighting chance with Yoongi.

You're frowning but he knows you understand, well-aware that you'd recuperate soon enough.

"Cheer up. Just ask him out and if he denies you, then be it! I had a hand in designing this clinic, remember? It's big enough for you to avoid him."

"Not sure if I should feel inspired or discouraged," you tut under your breath, pressing your forehead down the table so you could ignore him while he leaves you alone. "Thanks, Dr. Park."

Jimin rolls his eyes at the nickname you use to spite him and only call him when the other employees are around, in which case there aren't, just because he did the equivalent of making you gulp orange juice after brushing your teeth like his sudden "I was the best man at Yoongi's wedding" revelation.

You don't know how long your forehead's been pressed to the table but it feels long enough to the point you hear a familiar set of footsteps you didn't anticipate to come this soon, immediately straightening your posture.

"Dr. Min! You're here!"

Yoongi looks up from his phone and nods, completely unsurprised that you're here in the breakroom at the exact moment that he comes in.

"Dr. Park bought everyone lunch today, yours is in this bag," you gesture to the meal you've separated and took the initiative of writing his name on so no one would "accidentally" claim it for themselves because it's always the one with the extra sauce and napkins.

He only hums as he plops down to the seat parallel to the paper bag, not registering it at all that you did it on purpose so he'd be sitting beside you. You didn't actually think he'd fall for it, but it's one of the times you feel indebted to his eager attention to his phone because he doesn't notice.

Yoongi sets his phone down on the table as it's held up by his convenient popsocket, immersed in slurping his own noodles to be oblivious of you who's close to losing your shit right beside him.

The opportunity is sitting right next to you and you didn't expect it to come this soon because if you knew that Dr. Min would be setting off your tentative plans unknowingly with how everything's coming to place, you probably would've rehearsed endlessly in front of a mirror.

"Can I ask my question now?"

Dr. Min's in the middle of chewing when you ask but he doesn't flinch, already aware that you ask him so much questions within a day that he feels like he's working with a nosey toddler.

"Go. You're gonna ask it anyway," he replies monotonously and continues chewing, bringing more noodles to his mouth even if his cheeks haven't deflated yet.

His nonchalance is what simultaneously intimidates and eggs you on, finding the words leaving your mouth with no filter at all.

"Can I ask you to go out with me? I'll only ask you five times and after that, I'm gonna get off your tail."

There's no beat of silence because Yoongi keeps chewing and you're sure you heard a chuckle in-between, looking at his side profile while holding your breath. You're just about to apologize for crossing a line you've been toeing for the better portion of a year when he looks at you once, briefly and lazily.

"Okay."

The word doesn't immediately click in your mind as you stumble with spelling out the letters in your head. Are you hearing it right? Is this just a side-effect of Jimin randomly clapping his hands beside your ears when you're getting groggy?

"O-okay? As in, yes?"

"Okay as in yes, you can ask me to go out with you," Dr. Min clarifies calmly, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips when he sees the favorite part of his show appear on-screen. "Asking me to go out with you is different from going out with you."

You're shell-shocked because that's exactly what you asked of him and you're even more surprised that he interpreted it as such, the weight of his approval now dawning on you.

"Of course."

Yoongi only hums but he can't bring himself to get another bite because you don't let a second go to waste, seeing your face plead closer to his peripheral vision that he only manages to give you a side-eye.

“Can we go out later, Dr. Min? I actually checked your schedule and you have nothing booked past 4 PM!”

You try to tone down your excitement and you're glad that the expectation of him answering you in the first try is only an afterthought, because he shoots you down twice as quick as you asked.

“No.”

“Do you have plans tonight then?” you prod with a gentle smile, trying to see if you can sway him even in the slightest.

“Nope.”

“Then why don't you wanna go out with me?” there's a light-hearted frown on your face and as much as you know that it won't elicit a reaction from Dr. Min, it's only playful. There's no real accusation nor anger behind your tone.

“Because I don’t, Y/N," Yoongi actually chuckles and he looks at you as if you're the silliest goose he's ever come across a pond. "You’re on closing duty later, bye!”

( ♡ )

“Good morning to my favorite dermatologist in this whole wide world!”

Yoongi hears you greet him cheerily and it almost makes him flinch because you materialized out of nowhere. He's about to scold you for doing that because who knows if you get mistaken and accidentally give a faint-hearted client with the shock of their lifetime, he really was about to — but he sees his cinnamon bun on your hand (courtesy of Jimin telling you his favorite dessert for the price of one cheek kiss), and all the words melt from his mouth.

“Good morning.”

Dr. Min almost snatches what you're holding and you almost huff, trailing beside him as his fingers quickly undo the familiar teal box packaging of his favorite pastry.

“You forgot 'Y/N, my favorite nurse in this whole wide world'.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t forget anything," he adds for good measure but something doesn't quite fit because as much as his hand is holding a box that houses his favorite type of sweet, his other hand doesn't feel warm. There's no cylindrical cup on his hand that makes his palm just the right amount of toasty and he realizes it the hard way because he raises his hand, ready to take a sip of a whole lot of nothing.

"Where's my-"

“Here’s your coffee.”

"Thanks," Yoongi feels the familiar warmth in his hand in a second and he sighs in relief inwardly, but there's just something off. Feels that there's something actively off because it's definitely more warm than what he'd feel in his regular cup. "Huh? Why is it in a mug?"

He wonders out loud and the sight of the ceramic mug is enough culture shock from the usual lidded paper cup he sees almost every morning, looking at you as if you've told him the worst insult known to man.

You didn't exactly think that Dr. Min would react as differently as this because Jimin said that coffee is still coffee to him, but in the process, you've directly forgotten that your friend told you right after Yoongi's coffee preferences — is that he tends to be a creature of habit.

“From the shop. I-I also bought the mug from the coffee shop so I can present it as this.”

You thought Dr. Min would be pleasantly surprised as he holds the too-expensive ceramic excuse for a coffee mug, but you don't know what to anticipate as he casts his eyes down.

GO OUT WITH ME? :), written in cocoa powder amongst the white froth, a product of going to the coffee shop extra early and having to fend off the red-haired barista with the bunny smile because he thought you were asking him out.

"Mhmm," Yoongi spends a second longer looking at the foam art before he takes a big gulp and effectively washes away what you significantly paid higher for than his usual coffee, trapping your wince at the back of your throat. You're looking at his Adam's apple and he looks just one gulp away from finishing it all, and he does right in front of you. "Can't. I'm taking my mom to go shopping."

You awe unconsciously as it's a known fact within the clinic that Yoongi adores his mom a lot and you see her quite often, having extra snacks being delivered personally to the employees each time because she's a nice and sincere woman.

“I can carry the bags?" you're only half-joking, a cheesy grin on your face, but Dr. Min only shakes his head at you and disappears into his office.

That's your second chance gone as quick as the latte disappeared into Yoongi's throat, but atleast you know that he doesn't hate the beverage and he can reuse the mug.

There's still some merit in your attempt somewhere.

There's never an empty instance in the clinic. It's always full. It's a little more high-end than most clinics and you could see it in the design and layout of the clinic itself, but it doesn't mean it's fully-exclusive. You see celebrities and socialites every other day and with the hands-on nature of your work, you're not as starstruck and bothered as you used to be.

There would always be more than a handful of VIP clients but that doesn't mean they're the only clientele. Serendipity Aesthetics isn't that snooty, and it's something you can manage with.

Your work's just as tiring as the doctors' and not a lot of people credit you for it, but it's something you shove to the back of your mind at the end of the day. You only scrunch your nose under your mask when you see the 73rd trustfund baby come into the clinic for the day, unfocus your eyes so you couldn't roll them when they manage to bring in their wealth that wasn't questioned into the conversation, and move on to your next patient.

You've just finished giving a diamond peel to a breadwinner mother (whom you've had a nice chat and laugh with throughout the process) when your eyes immediately lock in to the figure that knows no queues nor other clients as she walks past, walking straight to Dr. Min's procedure room.

And of course, you don't know whether fate is on your side or not, but you're the only assistant available to assist so naturally, Hoseok, the secretary, looks at you with a knowing nod.

You don't know what to expect when you come inside the procedure room, making yourself as small as possible when you knock twice briefly and enter, standing in the corner with your eyes trained on your clipboard.

Yoongi nods at you once in acknowledgement as his attending assistant, and you can barely acknowledge him back because the Jihye, who was Mrs. Min at one point, is in your direct line of sight.

She's sitting down but you can still see her graceful posture then with her shoulders pulled back and her hair framing her face perfectly. The casual sweater ensemble she wears is probably more expensive than your whole closet could be, but the gray of it doesn't dull her out at all. There's creases on the material since she's sitting down and is therefore not taut, but the wrinkles look poised on her figure nonetheless.

Her manicured hands sit prim and proper on Dr. Min's desk and you can't help but think how they used to look with a wedding band on her ring finger, your thought process making you look at his hands that are clasped right in front of him.

She smells expensive and important, just like how Dr. Min does. Not only do they have a figurative scent of gravitas surrounding them, but they also carry it literally. When they shared a home, have they started smelling like each other at one point? Does the intoxicating smell of daisies on Jihye become Yoongi's scent on his white coat at one point?

"What do you want, Jihye?"

You find yourself holding your breath in anticipation of hearing her voice in-person, and it's everything you've ever expected.

"Undereye fillers, please. I have campaigns and Fashion Week back to back so I need a touch-up."

Expensive, important, elegant, sweet.

Yoongi sighs under his breath, standing up from his seat to examine closer. You almost move to stand beside him to assist but you forget that of course, Dr. Min has his own penlight. You're paralyzed at your corner but you can't help but watch.

You watch him press Jihye's undereyes lightly with the pad of his thumb and then with his ring finger, assessing intensively but holding her lightly as if she's made of glass.

"They're not that sunken-in like usual. You still want a touch-up?"

Jihye laughs sweetly, putting a hand on her chest as she tilts her head up at Yoongi.

"Ah. You're still so sweet to me."

Yoongi doesn't indulge her with a laugh but instead just rolls his eyes, going back to his seat as he types into his chart. "Would that be all?"

"That's it for now," Jihye grins, clutching her purse to her chest as she rocks back and forth on her heels even if she's sat down. "Always down for a facial from you though."

"Jihye."

Yoongi clicks his tongue and gives his ex-wife a warning gaze, and just for the slightest fraction, you feel him turning his gaze to you. His gaze that's not for the purpose of feeling sorry you had to hear that, but rather for the purpose of telling his ex-wife that the two of them aren't alone.

"Yoongi."

She drawls sweetly and you could only look away because this banter of theirs doesn't concern you at all.

Dr. Min ignores her and looks at you, a firm line on his lips.

"Get me the materials, Y/N."

"Extra ice too! I wanna munch on some," Jihye adds as you're on your way out and you make the note of getting more ice from the freezer because she asked so, filling up a champagne glass neatly.

You wheel in your cart and you could only reply with a stiff nod when she thanks you eagerly, already plopping an ice cube to her mouth.

You wait as you see Yoongi become gentle, all from the way he injects the filler to massaging the skin underneath Jihye's eyes.

They're divorced and yet they look casual as they've always done this. They probably did and still continue to. They look like they still belong to each other.

You can't deny that Jihye's pretty and although you're not privy to details if she has work done or not, it doesn't change the fact that she's pretty. She must and is the prettiest girl in the world for Yoongi because obviously, he married her. Loved her. Maybe even currently love her even.

You feel silly. A little more silly than usual like what Yoongi points you out to be because after all, you're an assistant at work who's holding the tissues and the icepack, feeling as if you have the right to intrude or even be jealous of the fact that your boss, the one you have a pathetically huge crush on, is laughing with his ex-wife over an inside joke like what all couples have.

Like what all couples, divorced or not, have.

( ♡ )

Yoongi thinks he's actually managed to escape you.

He's in his procedure room simply because the airconditioner blows colder and not because he has a patient to meet at the moment. It's his favorite kind of quiet; no one's daring to knock on his door, no shoes squeaking, no you who keeps asking him questions at every waking moment you could find.

Come to think of it, not only did he barely see you today, but he also barely saw everyone in the clinic. It's unusual to say the least because for the hundred times that he passes by Hoseok, he now realizes that he barely occupies his position at the front desk. He's heard nothing from Jimin either whose office is just right next to his, unaccustomed to not having someone knock on his door until he budges and lets him in because the guy just wanted to hang out even in silence.

Actually, he doesn't know anyone's whereabouts at the moment. The clinic's full even at lunchbreak but it oddly feels quiet, making him put his phone down and debate to whether or not he should check up on everyone.

“Give me a facial, please.”

Yoongi practically jumps out of his seat when he hears someone pipe up from right behind him, goosebumps forming at the back of his neck as he automatically flinches.

He knows it's you but he didn't know it would be you who's sneaked up on him out of nowhere. Sometime in his whole thought process, you've already opened the door to his room without him noticing and he's badly reaping the consequence of not being perceptible enough.

"Holy fuck," he clutches at his chest from the shock upon seeing you that's slowly simmering down, throwing his head back, only to see you smiling at him gently as if you didn't age him atleast two years faster. "A facial?"

Yoongi grimaces at your crude plead, snickering to himself, but when he registers the weirded-out look on your face, he immediately remembers his profession and what you're actually asking from him.

“Yup! A facial.”

You seem to have no qualms about repeating your request and that's because you don't have any, feeling fully confident in yourself because you're certain that he can't deny such a trivial request at the time.

“Do you have a schedule with me? Have you paid to the front desk already?” Dr. Min asks you in succession and tilts his head at you, making his newly-dyed blonde hair bounce from side to side intentionally.

It's cute, really, but you didn't come here unprepared. After all, you believe that it's Dr. Min this time who owes you something.

“But it’s my birthday — you didn’t know?“

That throws him off the loop for a second and he doesn't even actually believe that it's your birthday at first, especially coming from you whom he believes is a big fan of bogus skincare myths and probably eats them for dinner.

He's about to ask you for some ID but the dots connect in his mind before he polices his employee over their own birthday; why everyone's been missing, why Jimin couldn't stay still the whole morning, why he's been seeing random balloons being held by patients in the waiting area, and why there's some bit of frosting left on the side of your jaw.

“Why would I know when your birthday is?”

“You hired me.”

You blink owlishly at what’s supposed to be an obvious answer but Yoongi reads it as being a smart-ass.

“I hired you for your credentials, not your birthday,” he rolls his eyes and you already know he’s fully recovered from the unintentional spook you’ve given him. "Actually, scratch that — Jimin told me to hire you."

You'd like to think that you'd get hired nonetheless if not for Jimin, but the thought lingers heavily on you. It leaves a bad taste on your tongue and you’re unaware that it shows on your face because for a second, Yoongi feels as if he should apologize because he may have took it too far. In full honesty, the whole concept of it only struck you now and you don’t know what to think of it, especially in a day you swore you’d only be self-indulgent.

You miss a single beat and the needier part of Yoongi’s guilt feels compelled.

“I’m-…”

“Nevermind. It’s okay! But it’s my birthday, and you told me that you give your employees a free facial as a birthday gift!”

Yoongi feels saved with your smooth transitioning but his eyes narrow once he recognizes the gist of what you’re saying, deeming it to be a little too demanding because all he wanted to do this afternoon was to lay back in between appointments.

"I can just give you a gift card,” he offers and he thinks you’re gonna accept the upgrade which is why he’s about to stand up and retrieve it from his office right this instant, being stopped abruptly when you block his way out of his chair.

“No. I want a facial.”

He hasn’t even started telling you that he has some designer gift cards in his drawer as well but you already shake your head no to what he was about to say, unrelenting when he tries to walk past you that only prompts you to hold your arms out horizontally.

“Fine. It’ll just be a quick one after the last patient and-...”

“Actually, your patient for this hour just cancelled because she has to appear in court for evading taxes or something.”

He blinks once, clearly unnerved. “Oh. Naeun? Again?”

Dr. Min hums to himself about taxes and turns his back on you silently, making you stammer in place because you don’t know if you’d accept rejection at your birthday this early into your attempt. You want to ask one more time if he’s still giving you a facial or not because you’re just standing there as still as an idle video game character, waiting for a prompt that would directly address you.

“What are you doing?” he asks you and you look straight to the mirror that’s in front of him, wide-eyed at being guilty for simply just standing in his presence. “Lie down already. I thought you wanted your birthday present?”

You realize belatedly that Dr. Min’s standing by his employee benefit because while he had his back turned on you because it turns out he was just preparing the tools and equipment he needed for your facial, not because he was annoyed at you and wanted you to take a hint by making you look at his back.

You've never been in this position, actually — the one where you're lying on the patient's bed and Dr. Min's looking down on you, the mix of a scowl and a small smile on his face just to appease you.

He's gentle. Much more gentle that you thought now that you're on the receiving end of his hands. Puts the least amount of pressure in holding up your head to put on a headband before setting you back down, his hands close enough to your face that you could smell the familiar scent of the clinic's hand soap.

You surprisingly melt when Dr. Min dots the cold cleanser to your face and rubs gently in small circles, expecting to flinch because of the overwhelmingly new experience, but there's just something in the way he caresses your face that puts you into ease.

“Jimin and the others prepared me a cake in the breakroom awhile ago.”

Your eyes are closed and you're relaxed and you don't entirely know if it's still a good look on you because Dr. Min's still rubbing in the cleanser, not entirely lying when he says that he's considering on rubbing in the lather to your mouth because he expected you not to talk this much considering he's already in the midst of giving you a facial.

“I pay all of you and you didn’t offer me any,” he mumbles in faux dejection, but the thought of having cake with the chocolate icing he's swiped from your jaw does sound appetizing.

“You were out on lunchbreak.”

You were out on lunchbreak with your ex-wife.

You withhold the last bit that you came to know because of Jimin, since he was on the way to Yoongi's office to invite him for your impromptu birthday lunch but couldn't even finish his invitation because Yoongi already uttered urgent lunch and Jihyo in the same sentence.

“Do you know what my wish was?” you speak meekly but Dr. Min doesn't notice the dimming hope behind it, one that's about to wear off sooner or later.

“Humor me,” he murmurs and that's when you hear the familiar beep of the steamer in your side, knowing that it would grant him 20 minutes of separation from you which he probably craves.

You've memorized it by now — steaming your face doesn't actually open your pores, and neither does washing your face with cold water close them. Steaming just loosens the pores which therefore allows products to seep in deeper and further.

Apart from that, there's one thing you've also come to memorize.

“That you’ll go on a date with me.”

Dr. Min chuckles and atleast you know that it'll soften the blow you expect by now.

“Nope. I’m watching a movie in the cinema with my friends tonight.”

You open your eyes and he closes them right back because it'll hurt to open with the hot steam, unconsciously doing it with a tut on his lips.

“It’s my birthday," you weakly offer with a pout on your mouth and you're oblivious to the half-smile Dr. Min has on his face because of course, your eyes are closed and have been threatened once again to be fired if you don't keep them closed.

“It’s my movie time.”

( ♡ )

Nothing’s going right.

You watched a movie last night with Jimin and it ended up having a cameo of Jihye, making the remaining thirty minutes in the cinema become a darkroom for all of your doubts and insecurities, while Jimin chews your remaining popcorn as silently as he could (because it would be a waste) while rubbing circles on your forearm.

You drank with him all night but he's counting his shots because he obviously has some clients to attend to the next day. It's not exactly a good look of being hung-over with his eye twitching as he completes a rhinoplasty at 1 in the afternoon.

Your car wouldn't be fixed for another week and when you hitched a ride with Jimin and passed by the shop, it's because your car's in the corner and everyone's working on a flashy blue Maserati, in which he made the off-hand comment that it looks like Jihye's but he isn't entirely sure.

Everything from last night until today makes you feel like you don't have control over anything at all. It's deflating and pitying and it adds to the ever-growing con list of what it's like to have a crush on your divorced boss.

So while Dr. Min's standing in his gown since he's assisting Jimin, and in turn you're assisting them and the two of you are alone because Jimin's still washing his hands outside, you ask.

“Go out with me?”

“Can’t.”

“Okay.”

Yoongi's eyes widen at your straightforward reply, cutting to the chase. There's no pleas, no rebuttals and most of all, there's no underlying curiosity. No sneak-handed question that inquires what exactly were his plans.

It's just a plain okay that he can't wrap his head around, making him look at you whose gaze is set on the patient's gown.

“It’s Jihye’s grandmother’s birthday today. She’s old-old — you get the point. Still thinks we’re together and we don’t wanna break her heart.”

He feels compelled to explain even if you haven't asked him remotely, preparing himself for any added questions you might have.

“M’kay. Have fun tonight.”

The question marks visibly float on top of his head and he doesn't know what he's missing, the opening of the door to the surgery suite signifying Jimin's entrance furthermore making his head cloudy.

“Yup. Gonna have a blast with my ex’s family," he says it either as a snide remark or a half-attempt in getting a reaction from you; either way, it dissipates into the air and he gets nothing.

You accept that nothing's going your way and it rarely does otherwise.

Yoongi keeps looking at you like he's never met you before.

( ♡ )

Yoongi enters the clinic, throws his bag into the air, and his eyes practically pop out of his head when he sees that it's Hoseok who's holding it.

Where are you?

It's emptying, almost. He's not hearing a skincare myth first thing in the morning and he doesn't have a warm cup of coffee on his hand, be it in a regular cup or a mug.

In fact, he's walking alone to his office and he feels the need to keep darting his head around because you must be hiding in one of the many vantage points you could spring out of.

There's a shadow set on the large couch, and he feigns his surprise that it's you who's gonna jump beside him any moment now, but it turns out to be the fake plant in the corner.

It's the big green fake plant they bought for accessories in the event that a patient of theirs would be allergic to a real one, and Yoongi's never felt this much annoyance towards an overpriced leafy hunk of plastic.

Jimin hasn't arrived yet but he assumes that it's because you're with him. You've got to be.

Jimin arrives sooner than anticipated as if to calm the curiosity in Yoongi's mind but immediately furrows his brows at him because he actually looks disappointed that he's here.

Yoongi peers at the empty spot beside his friend, even trying to peer his head further for the familiar package deal named you that he carried in mornings.

"Is Y/N with you?"

"No...?" Jimin tilts his head, genuinely confused that he's asking him about you, but is even more confused to learn that you're not here. "Is she with you?"

"No," Yoongi shakes his head no somberly, awkwardly standing as he tries to look behind him to see if you've already creeped your way there. "Weird."

He exits himself from the situation even before Jimin can question him and they both think it's the logical thing to do, especially since it's concerning you and they've been dancing around the topic of you for some time now — from the perspective of the one being crushed on and a potential love interest, the other being your best friend.

You come in some time later, still early before opening but Yoongi's not used to it at all. This is perhaps the first time he's seen you arrive later than he does, but he's conflicted if he ever wants that to happen again.

He's looking at his schedule for the day yet he can't help but peek at his window, anticipating a you who's trying to steal a glance but there's no attempts made, just walking straight past his office and into Jimin's next door.

Weird.

His whole day started off weird and his first interaction is basically omitted from his book because it doesn't start with his usual habit of fact-checking your myth, leaving a bitter taste on his mouth.

He has his own stash of his favorite snacks in his office but he plans to drop by the breakroom nonetheless after flying through all of his appointments before noon, instead accidentally (but thankfully) walking out to the whiff of your perfume because you just walked in front of him, entertaining a client that must be a walk-in.

"Taehyung?"

You walk to the familiar face you probably last saw just a few weeks ago, seeing his face register you belatedly in warmth and relief.

"Y/N, there you are! I was about to start knocking on every door to look for you," he sighs and you know he sincerely means it, thankful you've showed up just in time because he probably would've caused a ruckus by doing that.

"What do you need? I fell asleep early last night so I didn't get to answer your call."

Yoongi thinks that if he stands still enough, he could be mistaken for a fake plant with a white coat. He tries his best to fix his eyes and not be caught eavesdropping and looking, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's the best at it.

This guy calls you? At night too?

"Just my lobes. I need you to stitch them up back to normal. Tried the rubbing oil method for like a month but it barely did anything."

"Ah," you hum in recognition, gently taking Taehyung's earlobe into your fingers that makes him tilt his head to you in obedience so you could examine it closely. "You only had small gauges. 10G, right? 2.5mm is something I can work on alone."

Yoongi manages to conclude that you're somehow familiar and acquainted with this Taehyung guy, easily taking him under your wing and into an empty procedure room as if the two of you do this everyday.

It's a minor procedure. Local anesthesia and some stitches and Taehyung could walk out in less than an hour. Normally, if the gauges are bigger and therefore the earlobe's more stretched out, Jimin's called in to operate but 10G is something you can do without supervision, meaning that you and said guy would be alone together in the procedure room.

“Need help?”

As a doctor, Yoongi's just offering his supervision and guidance — that's all.

Taehyung's already well-acquainted in his position and so are you, the past fifteen minutes he's spent talking and hyping himself up to stroll in as casually as he could already meant giving you much leeway in between.

“No need doc," surprisingly, it's Taehyung who answers, a warm smile on his face which makes his shoulders vibrate in the slightest to which you tut at him. "Y/N’s used to this already.”

Yoongi's surprised but he doesn't let it show, clicking in his mind that the guy seems like a familiar face he's seen before but he can't place it exactly.

“Oh. Are you a regular in my clinic?”

“Hmm? Oh, no! I’m a first-timer here. I just meant that Y/N’s-“ he gets cut off and it's because you bump your knee into his to stop talking and moving, your voice finishing up his small explanation. "Used to stitching him up."

Tae's kind of scared to talk even more because after all, you're the one who's holding the needle to his ear, not wanting to unintentionally test you further so he just whispers to Yoongi instead.

“Exactly what she said.”

Yoongi feels like he's barging into a couple's business whom he's not a part of. He's seeing you in action as you reconstruct Taehyung's earlobes and that's where the familiarity hits him, quietly awing to himself.

Isn't this Taehyung guy famous?

You didn't take his offer up for help but he still shadows you, maneuvering himself behind you instead of standing by the door alone, not even pretending to give you pointers to fill up the uncomfortable silence (for him) because you both know you're doing a great job.

“Hey, remember when I thought that guy was flirting with you in the bakery?”

Taehyung suddenly pipes up and you have to hold still with the needle in your hand, shoulders shaking in a slight laugh.

“Of course. You ended up punching my brother.”

The two of you fondly laugh and it feels extra humorous because the two of you are trying not to move your bodies to the best of your abilities, seeing his cheeks turn red from trying to stifle his laughs as much as he could.

“He didn’t know whether he’d feel mad or proud of me that time.”

Yoongi turns up the light brighter that focuses on his earlobes that makes Taehyung squint. Normally, that's his non-verbal way of saying that the two of you should not be a having a moment right now, especially with him in the room.

He quips his lips to the side but stays quiet, his once-stable breaths dragging out extra slow.

“You free tonight? Minhyung’s staying with me for a week," he complies when you ask him to turn his head slightly, getting a response to his offer just as quick.

“Yeah, sure! Missed him anyway. He’s how old now?”

“Seven. He pokes fun at me now.”

The reminder of meeting Minhyung when he was barely a toddler versus the comparison of bullying his older brother now makes you laugh, remembering all the fond interactions you've had and continue to have with him. Just last month, Tae called you in the middle of the afternoon because Minhyung was suddenly looking for you.

You wrap up quickly and you wouldn't realize if not for Dr. Min who's been standing behind you almost the entire time, a barely-audible bite to his words. "He's finished."

Dr. Min beats you into relaying the aftercare instructions and follow-up check-up, the lax nature of how he usually explains being a stark contrast to how he sounds quick right now.

Taehyung's oblivious to the difference you could notice but he listens nonetheless, bidding you with a sweet warm smile as he exits the room.

“Thanks Y/N, see you later!”

Dr. Min shuts the door behind him and proceeds to clean up the station you've worked on, getting you into work because you don't quite understand why he even came in here in the first place.

“You didn’t tell me you had Kim Taehyung the model for a boyfriend.”

He passive-aggressively murmurs but you catch it, thinking nothing of the unusual nature your superior is exhibiting.

“You know him? He’s that famous now, huh?”

Yoongi, however, freezes. It's far from your easy chuckle and way further from the territory of peace because his face morphs into confusion. “What? I was kidding with you. He is your boyfriend?”

"What?" your eyes glaze at the odd joke you wouldn't have bothered correcting in the first place because you didn't think he'd ask, much less assume, in the first place anyway. “Oh no, he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Yoongi genuinely doesn't know what to feel about that.

Is he frustrated over the fact that Taehyung isn't your boyfriend at the moment, or is it over the fact that you're exes and therefore share history together in a way he can't decipher?

He doesn't meet your gaze, the pettiness running through his bones before he could register it as such.

“I don’t believe that. Pretty sure no one would go to their ex’s place especially at night.”

The words he's just uttered basically tells you that he's eavesdropped well and even added his own analysis to it, feeling offended because as what you can recall, you didn't even ask him for his own take.

“I’m hanging out with him and his little brother.”

“Still. No one does that.”

You play off the offense you feel into nonchalance, gritting your teeth as you disinfect the area for the next patient.

“You can be friends with an ex, it’s possible, Dr. Min,” you wipe extra hard at the bed, not even knowing why you feel defensive for a situation that doesn't even involve him. “We didn’t break up in bad terms anyways so it was more than plausible that we would be friends.”

He looks up inhumanely fast, eyes trained on you as if you've grown two heads within a second.

“That’s impossible.”

You humorlessly chuckle and that's the end of it, choosing to tune him out while you clean up as quick as you could because you don't even know if you could stay in a space with him any longer.

Yoongi finds it odd that you're not searching for his gaze, stopping right in front of you when you retrieve the remaining sanitary equipment.

“Have you even checked the schedule? You agreed to him so quick. Who knows, we’d probably do overtime.”

“Then I’m reminding you that I’ve never been absent ever since I started working here, and if we need to do overtime, I’m using my leave.

Dr. Min hardens his glare at you. “That’s against the law, I’m pretty sure.”

“I can ask Tae later, his mom’s a lawyer.”

You add harmlessly as it's the truth and it does make you curious if it's just his unknown pettiness or the law that's talking, seeing his eyes roll at your quip.

“Heh," he narrows his eyes and turns his back on you, quick hands moving into a blur while he goes on his way out. “The gauze’s contaminated now. Get a new one.”

Yoongi can't explain it but he feels like something's changed in his routine and in some way, it has something to do with you.

His entrance every morning feels weird and his arm wants to give out every time he throws his bag into the air because it's not your familiar face that squeezes in so close beside him even if there's plenty of space for you to walk on.

He finds himself looking through windows and wandering through hallways just to look for a trace of you, even if it's the little chocolate nibs you snack throughout the whole day or if it's your extra handkerchief that Jimin uses because he forgets his all the time.

You’re supposed to ask him anytime now, aren't you?

You've used four of your chances in four different occasions with no exact pattern to it, but Yoongi knows. He knows and feels that it's been too long ever since the last time you asked him out (that was two weeks ago) in the procedure room and he doesn't know when the next would be.

He's sure it's a tactic of yours. It must be. You must've been doing it in a certain method that trains him to miss you and look for you unconsciously, even if he's at home and not in the clinic.

Yoongi finds himself lingering around you and he doesn't know if he could just continue hovering and hovering in this way; in a way that's unlike yours because you're unafraid to stand so close to him, talk to him whenever you please, and trail around him like a lost puppy.

He thinks he's had enough when he sees you enter the clinic, just thirty minutes away from opening and goes straight to Jimin's office, walking out later in your scrubs that makes him audibly gasp in surprise.

You enter the breakroom and he finds himself tailing after you unceremoniously, not being able to wait atleast five minutes to enter.

You're just now eating your breakfast because you've had a late start to your morning, also waiting a little later for you to retrieve your car from the shop that took longer than what you initially expected.

You're mid-bite into your cereal when you see a shadow cast onto the table, looking up to see Dr. Min who avoids your gaze as soon as you catch him.

“Yes.”

You chew slowly and cover your mouth when he turns to you, arms across his chest while you try to swallow. “I’m not following...?”

He sighs heavily, not knowing he had to spell it out for you.

Yoongi sits beside you and scoots his chair closer to yours, leaning his face onto his hand that makes you confused even more on how he's willingly sitting this close beside you.

“Yes, I’m going on a date with you.”

You swallow your cereal without a fuss as it registers in your head collectively, a curious and inquisitive quirk to your lips that throws him off.

“I didn’t ask, though.”

“No, this is the part where you use your fifth chance to ask me out and I accept.”

It's quite entertaining to see Dr. Min act and talk so impulsively, not used to seeing him this frustratedly determined. “But I haven’t asked.”

Yoongi closes his eyes once, his shoulders relaxing.

“Then I’m saying yes for the four previous times you asked me.”

You snort to your cereal and you're thankful that it happens before you scoop another spoonful to your mouth, shaking your head somberly.

“That doesn’t count.”

Yoongi pouts childishly, his brows furrowing at the concept of you denying him this time and not getting what he wants.

“Yes it does.”

“I can’t take you out, Dr. Min. I’m actually a little short on some date money because I’ve been buying you expensive coffee every single morning.”

"Just Yoongi," he corrects but doesn't choose to comment on the fact that you haven't been buying him coffee for two weeks now and he's unknowingly formed a dependency on the coffee and you. “Then I’ll pay for the date.”

“Then that means you’re taking me out on a date.”

“I know, which is why I’m saying yes, I’m accepting-“

You stop the flow of words that makes Dr. Min frown even deeper, looking severely dejected but the guilt doesn't hit you as much. “You can’t. That wasn’t our deal.”

“Then ask me to go out with you.”

It's a suggestion he brings up softly, uncertainty lacing his features because actually, it doesn't sound like a suggestion at all — sounds more of a plead than anything.

“Hmmm,” you pretend to think even if you already had a concrete plan for the day. “I’m busy. Dr. Park needs me.”

Dr. Min clears his throat, sitting up straighter and looks at you.

“Please ask me to go on a date with you.”

“Dr. Park needs me.”

Yoongi exhales through his nose and stands up, straightening his shirt and rearranging the bucket hat on his head before he relents, leaving you alone.

You think that's just about the end of it, but you're wrong because you see Dr. Min pop into the breakroom the moment lunchbreak starts, picking up Jimin who's sitting beside you and ushering him out of the door.

"The fuck? Yoongi! Stop — stop pushing me! You seriously can't just throw me out of the-"

Your eyes are still fixed on the door that Dr. Min just pushed Jimin out of and locked him out entirely, barely glancing to the paper bag that he put in front of you.

He occupies the chair beside you and clears his throat once again, clasping his hands tightly.

“Five takes.”

"Huh? Dr. Min, did you seriously just-..."

Yoongi pokes your cheek to get you to look at him, effectively taking your gaze out of the door.

“Give me five chances to ask you out.”

You thought he wouldn't push it to this because you swore you know him — know him well-enough that he doesn't like you and wouldn't care enough to pursue you once you've stopped.

“Why?”

He blinks owlishly because you're still asking him why when he thought he couldn't make his intentions any more clear, the two weeks without the usual you making him realize it further.

“I could say that I’m asking you this so you could give me a taste of my own medicine,” his attempt at what's supposed to be a joke makes you scoff, later chuckling when he waves his hands around desperately to clarify. “But as much as my pride would like that,” he murmurs. “I uh, I do want to go out with you.”

Hearing it from him is surreal, to say the least. It's something you've never thought to hear and it's admittedly something you've given up on trying to hear not too long ago.

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m going grocery shopping later,” you tell him and it makes his eyebrows knit in confusion, lips opening apart as he understands.

Yoongi grabs the prescription pad that fits snugly to his white coat, handing it to you as he explains it could be something for you to write your grocery list on.

“Thank you Dr. Min,” you chuckle at the wholesome gesture, a lot of pages left when you could've settled for a single leaflet.

“Great! I’ll be seeing you-“ he stands up and claps his hands, effectively being stopped when you reach out for him.

Then he understands.

“No.”

“I have a rewards card that’s been accumulating points for years now! You can use it," he offers gingerly, a grin on his face.

“Thoughtful, but no.”

“I can drive the cart really smoothly and I can promise you that I won’t even bump to your foot once," he nods for a convicting effect, thinking if he'd pass this time.

“Talented, but no.”

“I can lift all the grocery bags in one trip.”

“Nice try, but no.”

“No?” Yoongi parrots you with a tilt on his head, a slight pout on his face that makes him look warmer.

“No."

Yoongi accepts it and nod his head, pulling himself out of his chair before he convictedly talks again.

“M’kay. That was take one,” he says it out loud to console himself, earning a surprised gaze from you. “Four more chances left, right?”

Yoongi wordlessly stands and grabs a plate from the cupboard, taking out the lunch he's bought for you from the paper bag and sets your favorite food (courtesy of Jimin for a price of one hug) there instead, setting and plating it in front of you.

He taps two fingers on your cheeks, a cozy smile on his face as he tries to earn himself a loving smile from you before he exits the breakroom.

“Four more chances.”

the road not taken | myg

part one: back home

Summary: To have the job you’ve always wanted and the life you’ve always dreamt of you had to break a few hearts, including your own. Four years later after running away from your home, your family and friends, you realized that maybe you fucked up; you’ve been a bad daughter, a bad sister and a bad friend. Getting your shit together seemed difficult enough, you didn’t expect that it included facing the first man who ever broke your heart: your brother’s best friend.

part two>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension? lmao, slow burn, flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 12k

—a/note: literally finding the courage to post this rn because yesterday i had an identity crisis and i wanted to delete everything!!! but i hope you like it more than me <3 feedback is very much appreciated, if you want to be on the taglist pls let me know!!

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago.

In your almost twenty one years of life, you never had to spend the holidays without your eldest brother, you were never prepared for that. All the attention of your family was fixed on you now, making you feel like you were an only child for the first time. It felt weird, but nostalgic, like you were waiting for him to enter through the door at any moment. You supposed it was going to happen at some point, opening the gifts with just your mom, sitting on the front seat of the car for the first time while listening to christmas songs on the radio, only to arrive to your grandparents’ home and attempt to survive the questions of your future alone, that didn’t sound fun at all. 

Simon, your eldest brother, didn’t die, by the way, he just got a girlfriend. A girlfriend? Yes, a girlfriend, that word wasn’t part of his vocabulary, or at least it wasn’t a few years ago when he left for college, but now all of a sudden he had a serious one, the kind who invited their boyfriends to spend the holidays with their families. Now Simon wore knitted sweaters, drank black coffee and listened to all the bands your uncle liked, he grew up, or something like that, but you didn’t think he grew up enough to get a girlfriend, to fall in love. Well, you hoped he was in love, you didn’t meet the girl yet but you hoped he was, at least that was what he said. 

Yes, Christmas without your brother sounded a bit sad, but New Year’s eve on the other hand… didn’t sound so bad. 

If your brother’s absence would’ve happened years ago, you would’ve planned this the same way as always, getting drunk with your highschool friends at the only decent party that there was in your hometown around that time, only this time he wasn’t going to be around to tell you to stop drinking or to take the joint off your mouth when you failed to hide from him to smoke weed. But this year you got sick of all that, you got sick of the same faces from highschool and all the girls who approached you just because they wanted to fuck your brother, or all the girls who fucked your brother’s best friend, maybe you got sick of the same music, the same party, the same people. This year you felt like you were seventeen again, too afraid to wish that something different could happen, maybe this time you weren’t coming home alone after watching Yoongi giving the first kiss of the year to some random girl, maybe this time your heart wasn’t going to hurt that much. 

Yoongi, your brother’s best friend, was painfully always there in your life, you didn’t know how the mess that was your brother was able to have such a good friend, they knew each other even before you were born, when they were only four and met each other at basketball practice. Yoongi was always like your brother’s conscience, the voice of reason, the calm one, the designated driver ever since he was sixteen, the smart one, the boy every mother wanted as their son. Yoongi was the boy who helped you with your math homework when you were eleven, he was the boy who defended you when your brother made fun of you, the boy who gave you his joystick so you would stop crying when you found out your brother was making you play with the one that didn’t work. He was sweet and kind with everybody, you wished you knew that when you were twelve so you could save yourself the eternal heartache that came along with being in love with a man who only saw you as your brother’s little sister.

Yoongi was always mature, always wiser, always older. And you were always immature, always stubborn, always younger. Just a brat who couldn’t stand the fact that he was the only one you wanted, but the only one you couldn’t have.

Maybe forgetting about him when he went away to college was the best thing that happened to you, you pretended he didn’t exist during the school year and made yourself believe you got over it, that your heart didn’t jump every time you called your brother and you heard his voice in the background, that you didn’t read every birthday message he sent you since you were sixteen until you memorized them, that you didn’t compare every guy to him and that you weren’t annoyed when you realized that none of them was half as intelligent as him. You were obligated to pretend you weren’t condemned to look for his face in every crowd ever since you were a teenager. All that mental effort was wasted away when you came back home for the holidays and saw him sitting on your couch again. 

You repeated the cycle every year as you pretended that your heart wasn’t tired of it, like seeing him that morning in your kitchen didn’t make your heart drop like you were twelve years old again. 

It began when you heard voices coming from the second floor, an outburst of laughter, your mother’s laughter, and then the laugh that echoed so many times in your dreams, were you still in a dream? You thought you might be in one when you entered the kitchen and saw the long figure of the man, the long figure of Yoongi, sitting on a stool as he peeled a tangerine and listened to your mother talk, but the minute they noticed your presence they fell silent. 

Two pairs of eyes landed on your sleepy face, making you aware that you were wearing your old pajamas, the one that was pink and had a bunny pattern all over it. You locked eyes with him and it felt like it hadn't passed a day since the last time you saw him.

“What are you two gossiping about so early?” You wondered out loud, slowly approaching the aisle of the kitchen, slowly approaching Yoongi, whose hair was slightly shorter from the last time you saw him and whose cheeks were still red from the cold outside. You arrived three days ago, confidently thinking that even if your mind was a mess at least you didn't have to see your brother's best friend's face.

In your mind, you cursed your mom for always telling him that he will be forever welcomed in her house. 

“Why do you care?” He spat at you, following your figure with his eyes as you sat in one of the stools beside him. “That’s between your mom and me.”

“Dude,” You said under your breath, grabbing a tangerine from the bowl of fruits in front of you “You have to get a fucking girlfriend.” 

Your mother frowned, annoyed, but Yoongi is too used to you to do anything else but  laugh.

“God, darling, you barely open your eyes and you’re already cursing.” She complained, shaking her head in disapproval. You shrugged, pretending to pay full attention to the tangerine in your hands. 

“It’s fine, Lila. I can handle her.” He said, carefree as ever.

You scoffed, “Yeah, sure.” You played it cool, as if that didn’t make your heart jump a little.  “What are you doing here, anyway? Weren’t you supposed to come back for christmas?”

“Why?” He asked, “You want me gone?”

You saw a stupid smirk appear in his face, the same one you’ve seen countless times in the past. It seemed to be the only thing that could put out your cocky attitude.

“Don’t be stupid.” You managed to answer, running away from his eyes. 

You heard him sigh “I finished early, I arrived last night.” He answered the question, reaching his hand under the counter to pinch your thigh, as if that could shake off your bad attitude, plot twist: it only made it worse. “That’s what I was talking about with your mom, I left Simon behind while he was still dealing with exams.”

“Such a good friend.” You joked. 

“Maybe… But hey, he’s the one who ditched me for a girl after all.”

“Well, if it’s a pretty girl you can’t blame him so much.” 

“If you say so…” He hissed, rolling his eyes “What about you, huh?” He changed the topic “What are you doing here two weeks early?”

“You see, this is my house.” You quickly replied, putting the first tangerine segment between your lips to avoid saying the truth. He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.

Of course there was a coherent reason for why you weren’t in school right now, but since you arrived you couldn’t seem to quit the bad attitude, especially in the mornings, it was driving you crazy. 

“You shouldn’t ask, dear.” Your mom intervened, turning around to wash her mug previously filled with coffee  “Sensitive topic.”

Yoongi’s eyes shifted to you again, as well as his whole body, curiously raising his eyebrows. 

“Sensitive topic.” You mocked your mother, annoyed that she used such words. She was quick to disappear from the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone. You wondered if she was already tired of hearing you whine. 

“Don’t think I won’t ask you about it.” He smirked, stealing a segment of your tangerine just to annoy you. 

Oh, you were sure he would want all the details. 

“Whatever.” You gritted your teeth. “You only came to see Lila? I bet she would love to switch you with me.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Yoongi smugly said, ignoring the sudden annoyed look on your face, he was too used to it to be bothered by it. “But as much as I love your mom, I came to see you.”

You blinked, not sure what to say next. Now your angry expression turned into a surprised one, cursing yourself for feeling excited to hear that. You knew Yoongi finished early and was coming back home, you asked your brother about it last time he called you, you were just playing dumb when you asked, but when Simon told you he was going to be in town you didn’t expect to see him in your house the next day he arrived. 

“Me?” You tried to confirm.

“Yeah, you.” He said, booping the tip of your nose “Simon told me you’ve been having trouble with your car, I thought I could help.”

You nodded, that made more sense than him just coming to see you. 

“Simon is such a snitch.” You murmured.

“I can’t deny that…” He laughed, looking at you tearing apart your tangerine and putting another segment between your lips, “Do you… want me to help?” 

“Maybe…” You murmured “Do I have to pay you?”

“Maybe…” Yoongi answered, imitating your tone “Or you can just tell me why you are here before the break, I don’t know.”

You squinted at him, knowing it was just a matter of time until everybody found out you dropped out of college, but there was certain relief in delivering the news to Yoongi, something inside you told you he would understand.

“Bold of you to blackmail me when I know you won’t fix my car properly.” You accused him, mentioning that time he tried to fix your brand new car when something happened to it and you had to take it to his uncle’s garage when he made it worse. 

“C’mon, that was only once.”

“Let’s not make it twice, then.” You clapped your hands, getting off the stool to walk towards the stairs to your room again “Let me change first. And don’t try to seduce my mom while I’m gone, it won’t work.”

You heard his laugh from behind, and even if you thought about it, you didn’t dare to look back.

Not even five minutes later, you found yourself with him in your cold garage under the dim old light that provided you the tiny room. You supposed it was easier to open the garage door but you didn’t want your fingers to be frozen. 

You sat on the old desk in the corner of your garage as you watched Yoongi open the hood of your car, trying not to stare when pulled the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows. 

He was wearing a beige sweater that tightened around his shoulders and his waist, Simon told you that he and Yoongi started going to gym lately and you could tell, his back was wider than you remember and you hated how different he looked from the last time you saw him. 

You hated to think there were people who saw him everyday and couldn’t tell the difference. 

You looked at your feet hanging in the air, hearing him suck his breath just to let you know he was just about to start throwing questions at you. 

“So?” He asked, persistent as always. 

“So what?” You played dumb. 

“So?” He emphasized, not willing to give up. 

So? You didn’t know how to start. Serious talks weren’t your thing, and even if you knew that Yoongi wasn’t expecting that from you, you still felt a rush of nervousness when the absence of his voice filled the room, your cue to start talking. 

“Mmm… It’s difficult to explain.” You trailed off. “I’m starting to think that I might be the black sheep of the family.” 

Your words made him turn his head at you, curious to hear more. 

“The black sheep?” He repeated. 

“Yeah, I think so.” You confirmed, without saying anything else.

“Fine…” Yoongi scratched the back of his head, a bit confused, something that was normal when he was with you.  “You’re not giving me a lot of context.” 

You knew this, but making a joke was easier than telling the whole truth. You wished you could tell him jokes until he forgot what your mother told him. But no, your mother already opened her mouth and now you had to explain your life crisis to the man in front of you. 

 “Let’s just say.. I dropped out of the semester…” You mumbled, unsure of your own voice “but I’m thinking that it is not just the semester, maybe it’s the whole thing.”

Yoongi turned his whole body to you, paying full attention to your words “Really?” He asked, just in case you were joking, but by the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice he could tell that you weren’t playing. You just nodded “Why, though?”

“That’s something I’ve been asking myself.”

“You don’t know?” He chuckled, making you roll your eyes. 

“Maybe I don’t know.” You tried to admit, but that was a lie. 

“Mmm, but I think you do know, though.” He contradicted you, turning around to keep checking your car. 

“Well, kind of… Do you want me to tell you half of the truth or a lie?” You offered him, leaving him without many options. 

 “Well, you are not very democratic, Pinky.” He scoffed, using the not-so-funny nickname he’s been calling you ever since you were kids. Only Yoongi could still be calling you like some character from an old cartoon that aired twenty years ago. “But I choose the half truth.” 

“Wise decision, as always.” You commented, clicking your tongue. “The half truth is… that being a nurse is not my thing, I don’t want to be that predictable, being the bitch in highschool that ended up being a nurse. At least I want to be the bitch in high school who ended up being something else. And I was not happy at college, not even a bit. I don’t think that’s who I am” 

Yoongi frowned, trying to process all the words you just vomited. If that was half the truth, what was the whole truth? 

“Wait, wait. Let’s go for parts.” He stopped you. “So, now you were a bitch in high school?” 

“You know I was.” You said, rolling your eyes.

Bitch was a strong word to call yourself, but to be fair you weren't being the nicest with yourself these past weeks. You stared at him, waiting for him to admit that yes, you were a bitch when you were seventeen years old, but that would be a lie. Yoongi would never have called you a bitch, you did have an attitude, you weren’t the friendliest in the mornings, you weren’t friends with everyone, you treated boys like shit, but you weren’t a bitch to him. 

“Isn’t that too… harsh?” He asked softly. 

“Isn’t it the truth?” You kept pushing it, but you were crazy if you think he’s going to agree with you. 

Yoongi shook his head, taking a long step to break the small distance that was between the two of you so he could be in front of you. As a gentle gesture, he put his cold hands on your knees, it was not an unusual gesture, but it had been so long since you had him that close that you couldn’t help but shiver. “I know you don’t like me getting all sappy, but I hope you know that only you get to decide who you are, and if you don’t think that is a nurse, then it’s not.” He rubbed his palms on your clothed skin, searching for his last words. “But, I must say, I don’t think a bitch is who you are either.” 

The cold room suddenly turned warm under his gaze, catching you with your guard down once again. You hated when he turned conversations into something like this, and worse, you hated when you bumped into the ugly reality that surrounded you when his eyes stopped looking at yours. This was not easier than last year, you wondered if it will ever be easy. 

“Well, the boys in my class might disagree.” You said, looking straight into his eyes. 

He laughed. “Well boys at that age are dumb.”

“Boys are always dumb.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Even me?” He asked, batting his eyelashes at you like he was a little girl. 

“Especially you, I bet you don’t know what the hell are you doing right now with my car.” 

Yoongi reached out to try to pinch your knees, but you escaped from his fingers. “God, you’re so mean.” He complained 

“So mean?” You questioned, moving closer to him and pretending to be annoyed.

“Yeah, so mean” He repeated “But not a bitch.” 

You rolled your eyes, watching him turn around again to come back to your car. You can’t help but feel disappointed when he moved away. “So… If you are not a nurse, what are you?” 

You tilted your head, thinking about it. What were you? Well, in your room you were a dancer and in your dreams a mermaid, but in reality you were too embarrassed and too afraid, too insecure to admit what “you were”.

“I don’t know.” You hesitated to answer. You loved Yoongi, in more ways that you could ever allow yourself to love him, but you could not tell him all your dreams just like that. 

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” He sang, mocking you, but from your position you could only resist pushing him into your car. “You don’t have to say it, I already know.” 

You quirked an eyebrow, curious. “Do you?” A smirk appeared on your face, but he couldn’t see it, he was still working on God knows what. 

“Kind of…” He laughed “I don’t know exactly, but I do know that you are too bright to just be a nurse, with all due respect to the nurses, of course.”

You stared at his back until he turned his head to find your eyes, offering you a soft smile. You mentally cursed him, if he hadn’t turned around you could blush like a teenager without care, but now your cheeks were red and your heart was jumping, the only thing you could hope for was that he couldn’t hear it from where he was standing.

“That isn’t very respectful to nurses.” You simply said, and he shook his head, laughing. 

“Maybe, but I still stand by what I said.” 

“Well, whatever I might be,” You started saying, trying to keep talking with all your feelings still swirling around inside your chest, “I still don’t want to disappoint any more people by making the wrong decision and coming back to live with my mom in six months.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh, not because he was mocking you, but because he couldn’t believe how you couldn’t be at least a little positive, how you were only twenty one and you felt like there was no turning back. 

“Who don't you want to disappoint?” He chuckled, “I really thought you didn’t care about that stuff.”

“I thought so too!” You exclaimed, just as surprised as him. “But I already disappointed my mom, Simon will be disappointed too when he finds out, I’m sure.” 

“God, you’re so wrong, I don’t even know who I’m talking to right now.” He tried to joke, but the feeling of emptiness that had been living in your stomach for the past months didn’t go away just like that. “Do you really think that about your mom?”

“I don’t know!” You said, throwing your arms in the air to be just a little more dramatic that you were already being “But when I told her she made that face that she does when she’s annoyed or upset, now she wants to talk to me about the future every time we sit down to eat, she looks at me like that all the time, like she’s mad with me or something.”

For the past few days you tried to understand your mom, but you failed when you tried to understand yourself. After Simon followed Yoongi to law school, your mom expected you to do something similar, and when you decided to be a nurse she was content enough, both of her kids were off to college now, nothing could go wrong. 

Your mom always bragged that she knew you like the palm of her hand, the only conclusion she could reach when you appeared at your house with the news was that you were never happy with what you had, you always had to have something else, something you couldn’t have. And even if you were about to be mature enough to admit she was right, you knew she wasn’t completely. Yes, you were a brat, but you felt in your heart this time was different. 

 “C’mon, Pinky. I don’t think your mom is disappointed, I’m sure she is just confused. You were two years into college, she must think this came out of nowhere, she’ll have time to understand that it didn’t.” He turned around a pointed a tool hanging on the wall, you didn’t knew the name of it, or what the fuck he was doing with your car, but you handed it to him anyway. “And, she’ll have even more time to understand that you’re not Simon and that her children are two completely different people.”

“Do you think?” You murmured.

“Yes, dummy. And you’re crazy if you think your brother would ever be disappointed in you for something like that, he is the first person that supports you no matter what, he’ll understand that dropping out of college is not the end of the world.” 

You stayed in silence, not daring to say a single word after what he said. You wanted to say that you were tired of all of that, how predictable Yoongi was, how terribly annoying it was for him to always be right. How was it that he always knew what to say? Was it so hard for him to be wrong at least once so you could argue with him? So you could correct him and tell him that he was saying nonsense? Yes, it was. You just rolled your eyes, even if he wasn’t watching you. 

“You’re insufferable.” You said, when what you really wanted to say was just “thank you”, but he understood. 

“Maybe I am.” He laughed, “But at least I’m not the one trying to find excuses to be miserable.” 

You watched him put the tools aside and closed the hood of your car, but you were too focused on something else to ask if your car was okay or not. He grabbed a piece of cloth lying next to you and wiped his hands, “What about my grandma?”  You wondered out loud, like he knew what to do about that as well. 

“You’re seriously not thinking about your grandma right now.”  He leaned over your car, with his arms crossed over his chest while shaking his head disapprovingly. If it was any other guy doing that, you would have told him to get the fuck away from your car, but Yoongi still had his sleeves rolled up, which made you think it was okay for now.

“But I am.” You answered “I can already picture her face when she finds out, I can already hear the comments of her neighbor’s daughter, how she’s on her fourth year of medicine and I’m going back to square one again or some shit like that. The worst thing is that Simon is not here, so I’ll have to endure all of that alone.” 

Yoongi was run by logic most of the time, so it was hard for him to understand how fast your imagination flew, but he knew that was part of your very theatrical self. It wouldn’t hurt him to become a little more like you, maybe being a rational person made him more intelligent, but sometimes made him more of a fool. 

“And since when do you care what your grandma thinks?” He laughed, “She will always have something to complain about, to impress her you would have to be born again, but this time blonde and with blue eyes. Do I need to remind you again, that woman doesn’t have a loving bone in her body?”

“God, stop.” You sighed, fully knowing he was right. 

“You stop.” He laughed, “Stop trying to make everyone happy but yourself.” 

“Well, maybe that’s the hardest thing to do.” You murmured. 

“Getting your shit together is the hardest thing to do, but I’m sure you’ll get there.” 

Believing Yoongi surely is not the hardest thing to do for you, but when it comes to believing in yourself is a whole different thing. 

“Says the man who always has his shit together.” You snorted “Difficult to believe you.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, moving from your car to sit next to you on top of the uncomfortable desk “That’s not true.” He tried to deny it.

“Yeah, sure.” You bumped his shoulder “Name one time you couldn’t balance your personal life with your academic life.”

Yoongi straightened his back, crossing his arms over his chest and pretending to think about it.

“Mmm… Right now?” He murmured.

“Right now?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows in disbelief.

“Yeah, look at me.” He pointed at himself. “I don’t think I have a personal life at this point, all I could think about was finishing early to come home to my mom so I could take care of her, and guess what?”

“What?” You asked, curiously. 

“She told me she already planned a trip with my aunt for both Christmas and new years. She ditched me, and now? I’m alone, I’m starting to think my personal life was just my mom.”

You covered your mouth, not being able to hold yourself back before bursting in laughter. “She ditched you?” You laughed, but he nodded, annoyed that you’re laughing at him. “Oh my God, she got rid of you.”

“She got rid of me.” He affirmed. 

“Lucky her, honestly.” You teased him “Isn’t that proof enough that you have to relax with her? You’re in college worrying about her health and she’s here organizing trips with her sister.”

Yoongi shook his head, still in denial, “Maybe, but she can’t do things like this without letting me know first.” 

“Why not?” You scoffed “She’s an adult, isn’t she?”

“She’s an adult, but I’m her son.” He huffed “And that’s all I’ve ever known to do, care for her.”

“Well, you can take care of her at the same time you take care of yourself.” You reminded him “I’m sure that’s what your mom wants as well, she would be pissed to know you’re forgetting about your own life being busy worrying about her.”

Yoongi knew you were right, he knew that more than anyone but still couldn’t help but worry about his mom. She had her siblings, who always knew how to take care of her, but he always felt like it was his responsibility as her son to do it, no one could take that thought off his mind. The only reason he brought it up was because you asked, but it was not a thing he wanted to discuss right now, he could put his social life on pause if that meant his mom was going to be okay. 

He turned his head at you, offering you an amused grin as he ruffled your hair with his hand, willing to change the topic. “Why are you scolding me? I’m supposed to scold you.”

You pushed his hand off you, “I don’t need you to scold me, I have enough with my mom.” You sighed “Besides, if it were a competition, I would win. At least you have a future, I’m more fucked than you.”

“No, yeah. I’m sure of that.” He teased you back “You just have to make up your mind, I know it’s a mess inside there but I believe you can do it.”

“I hope so.” You said, and this time your words are sincere. “But for now the plan is to survive the holidays, then I can get my shit together.” 

Yoongi laughed, sitting next to you on top of the uncomfortable desk. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” He agreed.  “And you know, about christmas…”

“What about christmas?” You asked, at the risk of looking so visibly lost in his eyes. 

“I was thinking… Since I don’t have any plans for Christmas…” He hesitated to say, lengthening the syllables of his words. “I was thinking… If you want to, I can go with you in place of your brother. You know, so you won’t be alone.”

The offering took you off guard, among all the things Yoongi could tell you, (the realistic ones, not the ones that only happened in your dreams) that was the most surprising. You had spent Christmas with Yoongi in the past, but your heart jumped at the thought of him spending Christmas with you, and not with your brother. Was he serious?

“Really?” You asked, afraid that he could see the excitement in your eyes  “Would you do that?”

“Of course.” He smiled, “We can talk shit about your grandma together.” 

You can hardly hide the smile on your face, you have to suppress the immense urge you have to hug him. “In that case, I would love it if you come.” You dared to admit “I mean, you owe me that for fucking up my car again.” You pointed at your car, already knowing that he couldn’t fix it. 

He closed his eyes shut, throwing his head back “God, I’m sorry.”

Present

You had been wishing to sleep in your childhood bedroom for the past two months. You had been wishing to lay under the baby blue covers, have your mom kiss you goodnight and sleep a nap long enough to heal your heart. 

You had been feeling like you were thirteen again for the whole year, thirteen and completely clueless, thirteen and scared, running home because you just saw your brother’s best friend kissing a girl at the bus stop, hiding under the covers and trying to forget that you were thirteen and there was no way he could ever see you the same way as that girl. 

The last time that you visited your mom’s house was a year ago. You texted her every week, sent her and your brother gifts and tickets so they could see you in the current play you were in, but visiting her house was harder than it looked for you. You managed to come once every few years for thanksgiving, telling your mom that you were busy and that theater life was like that, but the truth was that after so many years you still couldn’t find the courage to spend more than two days in the town you grew up in, not after everything, not after Yoongi. 

After so long, you were back where you started, running home after hitting a wall. The life you built with your own hands, the life that was supposed to be your dream turned out to be a lie, the boyfriend of three years you thought you loved was now gone, and the only person who ended up breaking your heart was yourself. 

When was the moment you stopped calling you brother every three days? Or when you stopped showing up at every birthday? When was the moment you got so far from the person you used to be? You weren’t thirteen anymore, you were twenty five and just now you realized that no matter how many shiny people you have around, you are still alone and far from home. 

Now you were headed home, with a bag full of clothes in the trunk of your car, prepared to install yourself in your mom’s house for the rest of the winter, determined to get your shit together, just like you thought you did a few years ago. Oh, how you wished you didn’t have to do this, how you wished you weren’t a complete mess. You wished you could enter your mother’s home and ignore the fact that you didn’t remember when was the last time you told her I love you, but to be fair with yourself, you didn’t remember the last time someone told you I love you either. 

Your mom knew you were coming, she was the first one who knew about your break up with Ian, your boyfriend, so she was assuming that you were sad and heart broken, and even if that was true, it wasn’t because of the break up, you were the one who left him. 

You didn’t know why, but you assumed that Ian understood what your relationship was, a sad pact that benefited both of your acting careers, a good image for the media, both of the most successful young actors being allegedly in love, and for you, just an arrangement to avoid being alone. How surprised you were when he got down on one knee and proposed, with his mom’s ring on one hand and a bunch of your so-called friends hiding in the distance, preparing to celebrate when you were supposed to say ‘yes’. He had a smile on his face, convinced that wasn’t the worst idea that ever crossed his mind. You thought it was clear that you never wanted to marry him, you believed you found someone who loved you enough not to leave you alone but not enough to marry you. God, you sounded crazy, but that was what you became, a superficial celebrity whose whole life was calculated enough so people thought it was perfect.

You felt like shit when you had to say no to Ian, but you had no other option. Everything was so fake it made you want to throw up, and on top of that, he was the asshole who didn’t even bother to invite your family to, what was supposed to be, your engagement party. If you were to say yes, where was your mom to hug you? Or to tell you that you were being mental for marrying someone you didn’t love? That was the moment when you knew you were about to lose it, that’s when you knew that if you stayed there you would’ve lost your mind, and you were so close to doing it, the only thing that finally woke you up was a marriage proposal. 

You turned right, immediately recognizing you were close to home. You had to start doing things right, but where do you begin?

Four years ago

When you arrived home, the realization that almost every person in your life had found someone except you hit you. It started when your best friend, Emma, finally got a girlfriend last summer, then it followed with your brother spending the holidays with his new girlfriend, and now, to your complete surprise, you had to find out that even your mother was seeing someone for the first time in years. 

Yes, at first you thought it was going be to weird to see your mother leaving you every afternoon to have dinner with her new boyfriend, -whom she refused to present to you just yet-, but after the first week of cooking for yourself to sit in the kitchen island and eating while watching a random youtube video, you realized it was not weird, but it was making you feel extremely lonely. Love seemed to be everywhere around you, but not for you.

That afternoon you helped her do the groceries, but she had already warned you that, once again, you were going to have to cook for yourself since she was not going to be around tonight. 

All your friends from home were still away and they weren’t coming back for another two weeks, so you were almost completely alone in your hometown. And without you wanting it, only one particular name swirled in your mind, wondering if he was as lonely as you were, which he probably was, but you didn’t want any part of it. You were still trying not to look around too much in the grocery line hoping to see a familiar face, forcing yourself not to look up when you knew you were passing his street. You promised that you weren’t going to wait to see him again, as if that way you could prove something to yourself.  

You expected Yoongi to disappear only to see him again the day before Christmas, you were sure he wasn’t going to appear at your doorstep like that morning, it wasn’t going to happen, you convinced yourself of it. Because of that, on the way home when you were riding in your mom’s car as you came back from the store, you thought that maybe you were just hallucinating when you saw him waiting in your driveway.  

Your mom got down from the car first, you watched her giving him a hug and then observed them talking, you were sure he was going to offer to help with the bags and you were sure your mom was going to smile and accept his help. Your mom loved Yoongi, and Yoongi loved your mom, you could see it. When Yoongi was a kid and his mother had to spend long days at the hospital your mom always opened the doors of your house so he wouldn’t be alone. Like you, Yoongi grew up without a dad, so his mom was lucky to have your mom to look out for him when she wasn’t around. 

You mustered courage and got down, surrounding the car to get to the trunk where the bags were and finding him with his arms already busy. 

“Hi, Pinky.” He let out and in the cold you could see his breath. His nose was red and his eyes crystallized from the weather. 

You barely got to open your mouth to greet him before your mom spoke. “Yoongi was looking for you.” She told you as she headed to the porch.

“Really?” You wanted to know, just in case your mom was lying, for some reason.

“Yeah, really.” He answered, watching you grab the last two bags and closing the trunk of the car. “Do you have any plans tonight?” 

Your heels suddenly dug into the ground, making you stop dead to check if you heard that right. Yoongi didn’t notice, he started to walk backwards, heading towards the door as he looked at you and invited you to follow him. You took the first step, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to react. Did you have any plans tonight? For a second your mind went blank, completely forgetting you had a date with Robert Pattinson as Edward Cullen in Breaking Dawn at nine pm. 

You avoid his gaze, trying to come up with an answer. “Do you have any friends?” You asked. Classic you, insulting him in case he noticed your face was two seconds away from burning red. You heard your mom grunt as she entered through the door, but Yoongi just laughed. 

“Do you?” He attacked back, smirking “Going to the store with your mom on a friday night, I thought you were popular in high school.” 

“I was not, you must have confused me with my brother, we have the same nose.” You scoffed, walking with him to your house “And I do have friends, they’re just not around.” 

“So you don’t have plans.” Yoongi confirmed for himself, letting you enter through the door first. 

“No, not really.” You admitted, leading him to the kitchen to leave the bags on the counter. “Why? Did you want to take me out?”

The question was intended to come out as a joke, but it burned on your tongue. You often tortured yourself with those kinds of comments, but his answer was worse than any kind of cruel joke you could’ve made to yourself.

“Yes.” He said, leaving his bags next to yours. “That’s what I was thinking before you made fun of me for not having friends.”

You stayed quiet, pretending to look for something in the bags, pretending you weren’t screaming in your mind. Why on earth was he here? Why was he torturing you this way? You were enough of a mess, the last thing you needed was this, bringing you more torment than you already had. 

You sighed, quickly coming up with another answer “Sorry I can’t retract myself.” You said. “But what were you thinking that was so important for you to come to my house instead of texting?”

“I was afraid that if I texted you would’ve said no.” He admitted.

You arched an eyebrow “Why?” You questioned. 

“Because… I saw that the theater is doing a Christmas special, and they’re showing Home Alone tonight.” 

“Which theater?” You asked, but you were fully aware which one was. 

“You know, the one near the park with the weird fountains.” He said, confirming what you were thinking. 

You wondered what to say next. There you had Yoongi, inviting you to watch a movie with him, ‒your favorite movie to be more specific‒ but at the place you used to secretly go to theater classes when you were thirteen until you finished highschool. You knew the place had those kinds of events where they showed old movies following a theme, as Christmas approached they never failed to show Home Alone as many times as they could. 

Would it be so bad for him to find out that you used to be obsessed, maybe still were, with musicals? You never told him about that, let alone about the classes, that was something you used to keep to yourself and no one else, so going out with him meant to out yourself to him. It was inevitable for people to recognize you there, you knew a lot of your friends from back then were still very attached to the place, unlike you, who decided to leave everything behind once you left for college to be someone you didn’t want to be. 

“I don’t know, I allow myself to watch Home Alone only once a year.” You tried to excuse yourself.

“I know that, that’s why I came here instead of texting” He said, “But I’ve come up with a solution, I tell you this, we can go and watch Home Alone tonight, and on Christmas we watch Home Alone 2.” He offered, but you felt offended he even dared to mention Home Alone 2. 

“I don’t like Home Alone 2.” You reminded him. “I think it’s un-”

“Unrealistic that they lose Kevin twice, yeah, yeah, I know!” He interrupted you, stealing the words from your mouth. “But I like Home Alone 2, I think it’s still a good Christmas movie.” You stared at him with narrowed eyes, pretending to think about it, as if your heart was strong enough to even try to say no to him, even if that meant you had to go back to the place where you used to be a completely different person from who you were in school, and most importantly, even if that meant you would have to watch Home Alone 2. It was painful to admit that you already knew your answer when you saw him in your driveway. “Don’t be boring, Pinky. I’ve already got tickets.”

Just for a moment, while the dim lights of your kitchen lighted up his eyes as they begged you to go with him, you wished you had plans that evening already. You took a second to imagine a scenario where you told him that you weren’t free that night, that someone was going to pick you up later. You tried to imagine his face when you told him that you were in fact going out on a date with some other dude and pictured him heartbroken because you rejected him. But of course that wasn’t the case, your friends from college used to joke around and say that men ran away from you and only the brave ones were capable of asking you out, there was no way you were going out with someone who knew you in high school. And even if that were true, you lived in a reality where Yoongi wouldn’t flinch if you told him you were going out with someone else, a reality where you could never reject him. There was a part of you who enjoyed the pain of coming back to him, of being around him and living with the knowledge that at some point you'll have to get over him.

“Fine.” You finally gave in “I guess I could watch Home Alone 2 on Christmas” 

He smiled victoriously, raising his fists in the air like he won some trophy.

You didn’t know what was worse, whether to have him around or not see him at all, you knew that the safest option was not seeing him, but your poor heart didn’t seem to understand that it was for the best. 

Present

When you parked your car, you realized you didn’t have the keys to your house anymore. You were sure they were somewhere in your apartment back in the city, but even if you had remembered to look for them, you wouldn’t have found them, you had no idea where they were. It has been a long time since you thought about putting foot in your home, your real home, not the one back in the city, with countless empty rooms you had never used. They keys to your home, where were they? You bitterly laughed as you walked towards the porch, with your bags in your hands and your heart on your sleeve, that was how disconnected to the place where you grew up in you were. 

The little pumpkins your mom put on the porch reminded you that the last time you were home was also october. The play you were in last fall was just about to end and you visited home for a weekend just to ask your mom to go and see you for your final performance. You remembered how angry you felt when she told you she and Phil, her boyfriend, had already planned a trip to Scotland for that same weekend. It took you a whole year ‒or even more‒ to realize that while you were busy living your life, your family was doing the same thing, you disappeared for months and they had no other choice but to keep going without you. 

You stood in front of the big wood door for a few seconds, feeling like some prodigal daughter, until you decided to finally ring the bell. 

As soon as your mom opened the door and you caught the surprised look on her face, you knew you weren’t supposed to be there, at least not yet. 

“Darling! What…?” She breathed out as if she had seen a ghost, but to be fair you weren't far from looking like one, you didn’t remember the last time you had a proper sleep. “What are you doing here?”

You shrugged, not knowing if she was joking “I called you on the phone last month, don’t you remember?” You asked. The surprise on your mom’s face morphed into confusion, and for some reason it made your chest hurt a little. 

“You told me you were coming Friday the 5th.” She said, but she didn’t move from the door, as if you were about to turn around, leave and come back for the date she thought you were coming.

“That’s… today.” You reminded her.

She frowned, raising her left arm to check the apple watch on her wrist, the one you gave her as a present for mother’s day a few months ago, immediately realizing that you were right. “God, where’s my mind?” She exclaimed, cleaning her hands on the apron she was wearing to grab one of your bags from your hand, finally leaning back to let you in. “Sorry darling, I don’t know what I was thinking when you called me.” 

“It’s okay.” You said, more to yourself than to her, closing the door behind you “These days my mind is nowhere near, either.”

“No, it’s not okay. I can’t believe it flew over my head like that.” She kept complaining, taking off your coat for you to hang it on the coat rack “Do you have any more bags?”

You nodded “In the car.” 

“Okay, let’s go grab them later.” She said, turning around to head towards the kitchen with a quick pace. “Follow me darling, I’m about to finish cooking, you arrived just in time for lunch.” 

Well, your mom always seemed to be in a hurry, she was like every other mom after all, but today she looked more rushed than usual, making you wonder if your arrival was that unexpected, did you suddenly ruin her Friday just by appearing at her doorstep? The answer wasn’t clear to you, when she turned around you lost the chance to say that she shouldn’t worry since you were planning to spend the whole weekend in your room.. Now you were just trying not to look disappointed when she didn’t give you a hug as she disappeared into the kitchen.

You followed her, taking off your converse and throwing them somewhere in the hall. Your mom had enough energy for you both, it was like she forgot that you had been driving all morning to get there, maybe she thought you arrived on a jet, you didn’t know. You thought your tired face was sign enough that all you needed was a hot shower and a long nap. 

“What am I gonna do?” She murmured to herself, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that you were there earlier. “Your room isn’t ready yet!” 

You scowled, sitting on one of the kitchen stools. “What do you mean my room isn’t ready?” 

“We’ve been using it as a storage room lately, until Phil adjusts himself.” She told you, but you didn’t understand a word she said. Storage room? Why was your mom’s boyfriend using your bedroom as a storage room? 

“Mom, what are you talking about?” 

“I’m sure I told you!” 

You shook your head “Tell me what?”

She tilted her head with her mouth hanging open. You visibly saw her trying to remember something, filling the room with silence. Then, it hit her, her silence suddenly broke into laughter, she realized that, whatever was she was talking about, she didn’t tell you, you just didn’t know what. “Darling, Phil moved in september, how come we didn’t talk about this?” She let out, wondering out loud. “We are still getting the hang of it, he still has a lot of boxes, we decided to put it in your room for now.” She explained, like it was nothing, but you knew it wasn’t. It took her a long time before she introduced you to Phil, she always made it clear to him that her priority was her kids, so it was a big step for her to let Phil move in. 

You shook your head, immediately avoiding her gaze when you felt a sudden rush of guilt washing over your body when you tried to remember when was the last time you spoke with your mom on the phone apart from last month, when you told her you were coming today. 

“Oh, mom, I had no idea.” You said as if you were apologizing, you kinda were. “I’m gonna start looking for somewhere else to crash, I still don’t know for how long I’m staying.” 

She waved her hands, rushing to interrupt you “My God, sweetie, no! You know you can stay here for as long as you want, this is your house!” She said, but you struggled to believe her “But I really thought you were coming next Friday! When was your last show?”

God, the last thing you wanted to think about now was work.

“Just last week.” You replied, hoping that she wouldn't want to comment too much about it. 

“How was it?” She continued to ask, going against your wishes.

Terrible, you wanted to say, you couldn’t wait to get off the stage. You did your job and you left, all your partners begged you to stay for the after party but you were exhausted, you left as soon as you could. That was supposed to be an important moment for you, the wrap up of your first main role, a clear achievement of your short career. After you did the first show of the season you went to bed wishing it could last forever, but last week you were just relieved that it finally ended. 

You wouldn’t tell that to your mom, you didn’t want to worry her, so you just told her a little white lie. 

“Oh, it was great.” You smiled, hoping that in that way it would be more believable. “I had a great time, but I needed to come back home for a while.”

“Well, you worked hard, now you deserve to rest” She said “And besides that… how have you been, huh?” She asked with a soft voice, making you raise your gaze to find her warm eyes and a warm smile. You failed to remember that you couldn’t lie to your mom, she always saw through you, and to be honest she would be a fool not to notice the tired look on your face. It bothered you just a bit that the main reason why she was asking about it was because of the breakup.

“Why, because of Ian?” You asked. 

“No just because of him, just… how have you been about everything?” 

“Well, fine, I think so.” You kept lying “Me and him… I don’t know, I don’t think I felt the same way about him anymore, I had to end it, I’m sure he deserves someone who feels the same, right?”

She hummed, not really convinced. “You deserve someone like that, too, don’t you think?” 

“Maybe.” You sighed “But that topic gives me headaches.” 

Your mother snorted, “Well, don’t expect me to be satisfied with that answer, after you take a nap I’m gonna ask you all about that.” 

“How nosy.” You chuckled. “You just want to talk shit about your ex son in law.”

“Of course, don’t act like you don’t want to do that too, I know you too well.” You rolled your eyes, but of course she was right. “Anyway, since I thought you were coming next week I planned a dinner for tonight with everyone, they’ll be so happy to see you, but you know, I understand if you want to skip it with everything that’s happening, I’m sure no one will ask about it, but still. You came here to be alone so I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed around a lot of people.”

“Ask about what? The news isn’t out yet” You asked, confused. 

Your mom turned around again, looking as confused as you. “Haven’t you checked your phone today?” She asked cautiously.

“No, it died a few hours ago. I haven't had the chance to charge it in the car.” Your words made her confused expression fade into a concerned one.

“Darling, you might want to check it now.” She pointed to the charger that was connected next to the fridge. The look on her face could only mean that something wasn’t okay.

You slowly got off the stool, heading towards the other side of the room as you took your phone from your pocket to connect it to the charger. You knew it was just a matter of time until people found out that you and Ian broke up, but you thought the news would’ve be handled the same way as always, a statement from both you, the only reason why you didn’t do it yet was because you and Ian weren’t talking since the proposal happened. 

When your phone finally turned on, a rush of anxiety ran down your body when a thousand notifications began to appear on the screen, including fifty missed calls from both your manager and publicist, you had a feeling that maybe the situation was worse than you thought. “What the fuck happened?” You murmured to yourself, looking at your mother in search for answers. “Did Sally call you?” You asked her, fully knowing that Sally, your manager, had strict orders not to bother anyone in your family with calls about anything related to work. 

The room suddenly fell in silence, your mom hesitated to answer, you knew she didn’t want to be the one to give you bad news.

“No, but a friend of mine sent me an article.” She explained, her voice suddenly sounding small. “I didn’t read it, you know, I didn’t even open it, I don’t like gossip.”

Your mind tried to put two and two together; missed calls from your manager, an article about you, gossip, that didn’t sound fucking right. 

“Fuck, I have to call her.” You gritted your teeth, wasting no time marking her number. You felt your head swirling just by imagining the sound of her voice yelling at you for not answering her calls. 

Less than five seconds later, like she was waiting by the phone, she picked up. “Fucking finally.” Was the first thing you heard, “Where the fuck were you?”

The irritated tone on her voice took you by surprise, making you jump in you place “Driving, for four fucking hours.” You rushed to say “My phone was dead, what is going on?” 

You heard her inhale, trying to keep her calm “Every single person in the world is trying to reach me right now except you. It’s a mess.”

“What?” You try not to yell “I just got home, I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Honey, it got leaked, has no one told you yet?”

Then, a beat of silence. The stress on her voice is enough to make you believe her, you didn’t have to think twice. Of course something like this was going to happen to you, you couldn’t run away from the city and pretend everything behind was going to stay as it was, your life from six hours ago was still there, and it was still a fucking mess.  

“What part?” Was the only thing you could say. You felt yourself entering a cloud of uncertainty, your fist clenched on your lap and while you listened to her sighing, preparing you for the answer, you held your breath as if that way you could stop time.

“Everything.” She spat. “Listen, I didn’t want to freak you out with this, I tried to keep this situation on the low but it happened anyway. The story’s out, pictures are out, every fucking thing is out.”

You suddenly tense, feeling your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach

“What? What do you-?” You stuttered. 

“I know you didn’t want anyone to find out about the proposal but it's the main headline, sweetie.”

Sally is not someone who’s known for sugarcoating her words, she was straightforward and didn’t mind being the person who delivered bad news, but today you could tell she was especially stressed, you were sure she was trying to handle this issue alone with you being gone for hours. 

“Fuck.” You hissed “What about him, have you called his manager?”

“Of course I called his manager, but all of a sudden that prick doesn’t want to collaborate with me on this, apparently Ian doesn’t fucking care, how about that?”

“How come he doesn’t care?” You asked exasperatedly.

“That’s the idea that I got when his manager told me to manage this issue myself.” 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath as you took a moment to think about it. You knew Ian well enough, but you always held onto a kind version of him, the version of him who made you stay for so long, the version of him you chose to remember so your memories weren't all bad, but that version made you felt guilty for the question that was rotting on your mouth, waiting to be spat. 

“Do you think it was him?” You asked her, but her bitter laugh on the other line made you realize it wasn’t a difficult question to answer. 

“I mean, would that be so crazy?” She said “You and I are pretty sure who called the people to take those pictures. He's not happy, honey, to him this is just payback for what you did.”

That word echoed in your mind for longer than you would’ve wanted to, was that the way he decided to put this to an end? Payback? 

Four weeks ago, you thought that was it. When you were at the backyard of the house of Ian’s grandparents and you saw him on his knees, asking you to marry him, you thought that was the moment when every bad decision you ever made caught up to you, when everything exploded in your face. Now you realized it didn’t end there, everything you’ve done still has consequences.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore your mom’s eyes in the back of your neck. You left the room, coming back to the hall so you could be alone. You couldn’t just hang the phone and pretend none of that happened, as tempting as it sounded, you had to take care of it. “Okay, now what? Can you clean it?” 

“I’ve been trying, but it can’t disappear, you know? It’s been up for a few hours.” She replied. 

You nodded, as if she could see you “Okay, listen, it doesn’t matter. I can’t deal with this right now, I don’t care where it came from, I don’t care how the pictures look, what people are saying, I don’t want to know any of it. If people saw it, I don’t give a fuck, it’s me who doesn’t want to see it.” You firmly said “If the story’s out, fine, but I don’t want any major media posting the pictures, can you do that?” 

You heard her humming “Mmm, are you sure you want to handle it in that way? No statement to the media? No post on instagram? Just radio silence?”

The thought of making a statement about your relationship in public made you want to throw up, “Are you kidding?” You laughed “There’s no way I’m making a statement about this if you can’t even get Ian’s manager on the phone for him to do the same. If I say anything about this and he stays quiet I’m going to look worse of a villain than I already am for rejecting him.”

“Honey, I don’t think you understand this.” She stopped you, “This isn’t just news that you broke up, this is news that he proposed to his girlfriend of three years and she said fucking no, a.k.a a scandal.”

You rolled your eyes, wanting to curse her for treating you like a five year old child. “No, hear me out, I’m not playing his game anymore.”

“You’re not the one who’s playing his game, he’s the one playing in yours.” She emphasized, “Let me be clear with this, and I’m trying to be nice even though I’ve been working all morning to get this to disappear just for you. You were the one who decided that the relationship was going to have this kind of publicity, you can’t back down now. This could harm your image, you need to make a statement whether he does the same or not.”

You stopped for a second, hating how right she was. Every bit of your relationship with Ian was out to the public, that was the whole point of it from the beginning. Your image as an actress wasn’t entirely constructed by your work,  you took charge into making every piece of your private life part of it too, you sold it of your life to the public. After so many years of sharing everything with the media and fans, you knew it would be strange to stay in silence now, but in a matter of seconds the words piled up in your mind, making you see how ridiculously soulless a statement like that would look, lying about how much love and respect you held for Ian but at the end it didn’t work out, that you decided to stay as friends since you still loved each other so much, when the truth was that he was the one who leaked the pictures in the first place. 

You were once again reminded to face the consequences, and that was what you were about to do. 

“Sorry, Sally, but I'm not making a statement.” You let out, nervously tapping your foot against the floor “I started it, you’re right, but now I’ve decided to end this here. This is my private life we’re talking about, let me keep this thing to myself. The only thing that they need to know is that we’re no longer together, and from now on the only information they’ll get of me is about my work, are we clear?”

Your whole body shook in anticipation, expecting her to yell at you and tell you to do whatever she said, because you knew she knew better. You hoped she somehow didn’t see through your mask, you weren’t as hard as you wanted to sound, you weren’t as confident as you wanted to be. For years working with her you trusted her advice against all odds, and you knew she always meant well, she was just doing her job, but at this exact moment in your life you needed to stay silent.

She hesitated to answer, battling with herself and the love she had for you. “Look kid,” She said “I’m going to let you do what you want, but if this doesn’t end well I’m going to look for you in whatever farm you’re staying in right now and I’m going to strangle you, now are we clear?” She asked, repeating your last words. 

It took you a second to understand what she just said, you felt so anxious you didn’t understand if she was giving you a green light or not. When you snapped out of it, you realized it was the closest you’ve felt to be relieved. 

 “We are clear.” You confirmed. 

“I sure hope so.” You heard her sighing once again “I’ll make it disappear and you make sure to keep your phone close in case something happens. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“It’s fine.” She brushed it off “At least you’re not dead, I would’ve felt guilty for cursing you so much.”

“God, maybe the news of my death would make the news about the proposal disappear.” You tried to joke, fighting against the horrible feeling you still had on your stomach. 

“Okay, kid. I’m hanging up before you get more morbid. Take care, okay?”

You chuckled quietly, “Thank you, Sally” You said before she hung up “Really, I appreciate it.” 

The call ended, leaving your ears ringing and your heart hammering against your chest. You stayed in the hall, sitting on the first steps of the stairs and trying to make sense of what just happened. 

You were aware that Ian was angry at you, you couldn’t tell if you broke his heart but you knew that you hurt his ego, and somehow that was worse. You had to admit that your ego was as big as his, so you understood he had to do the same thing to you. Sally was right, you led yourself to this, you managed the circus that was your public life and you were the one who chose him to cover up how miserable you felt. You still felt your blood boiling just by thinking how cruel it was what he did, and at the same time you couldn’t allow yourself to be angry at him because you thought you had it coming.

You thought you were so stupid for thinking that once you got here you were going to be okay, as if you could run away from yourself, as this house was a bunker, protecting you from everything you ever did. Suddenly, you felt all your emotions stacking up your throat, you felt your eyes burning before your whole face was soaked with hot tears of regret, you didn’t even remember when was the last time you cried, that’s how fucked up you were. 

You covered your face, sobbing against your palms as you tried to calm yourself, remembering your mom was waiting for you in the kitchen and you had to come back to be a functioning person, but before you could, you heard her steps approaching you, gasping when she found you crying. 

“Darling, what happened?” She asked, the concern in her voice made your heart hurt.

You quickly wiped your tears with the sleeves of your sweater as you watched her kneel beside you. “Nothing, just…” You tried to lie, but what was the use of that? She would know, and you were still going to continue carrying the pain on your chest for the rest of the day. You shook your head, feeling her thumbs wiping your tears from your face.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” She whispered, like it was a secret between the two of you. “It’s about the article, right?” You nodded. 

“It’s…” You inhaled, trying to catch your breath. “It’s about more than that.” 

And then, the truth. As if you were a criminal caught in the scene of the crime, you had to tell the truth. 

After you spent the whole afternoon trying to explain to your mom what was going on with your life, nothing could erase the worried look on her face, looking at you like you were thirteen and you had the flu, wanting to take care of you until it went away. 

You felt ashamed, but you couldn’t keep lying to her, not completely at least. You had to tell her that you were never really in love but you felt so alone back in the city, you didn’t have anyone else. Most of your friends were fake, you were tired and sometimes overworked, not even your job was making up for the miserable life you were living anymore. You knew Ian was seeing other women and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to confront him about it, terrified that he’ll leave you in your big apartment alone. Your mom listened with a frown on her face, confused, asking why you never told her, asking why you never called, and you felt so embarrassed, so guilty for disappearing for so long. 

“I’m sorry” was the only thing you could say, and even though she waved it off and said that you didn’t have to apologize for anything, you knew that wasn’t real. You had a bunch of this to apologize for, you didn’t even know where to begin.

After a shower, she offered her room for you to take a nap, and as you got into her bed, she sat next to you, hugging you for the first time in months. 

You breathed out against her chest, feeling like a kid again around her arms. It was like she was trying to extract the sadness out of your body, and maybe it worked for now. 

“You’re still invited to join us for dinner tonight, you know?” She murmured “I know you’re sad but it’s just us, maybe it’ll cheer you up.”

You nodded, “I’ll think about it, is that okay?”

“Of course, darling.” She smiled, kissing your forehead before getting up to leave.

Before she opened the door, you stopped her.  

“Wait mom, who’s coming?” You asked before she disappeared from your sight.

She turned to you again, smiling. “Your brother, of course.” She said “He’s bringing Yoongi and his mom, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to see you.”

You snapped your eyes open, but before your mom could see your reaction she disappeared through the door, leaving you alone and with your heart clenched in your fist. 

@kingofbodyrolls @tea4sykes @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @oukya @yoongisoftface @namgihours @honsoolgloss @idkjustlovingbts @loviyunki @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @hopefulchick @heroinanne

MicroWave | 5

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut (Finally!)

Pairing: Agent!Yoongi x Reader (Agent au. Neighbor au)

Word Count: 11k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: Backstory, flashbacks, a big confusion about a character’s name, guns and blood (not explicit), angsty love, Y/N got hurt, makeout, consent, random talk about contraceptives during sex, hint of impregnation kink, raw sex with consent. Please tell me if I miss something!

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Completed

Summary: Yoongi can’t help to worry about his neighbor. Not only that she almost burned the apartment down, she also trusts people too much, and yet she doesn’t want people to help her. She is just trouble written in bold and capital and he shouldn’t be acquainted with her. But yet, he makes it his mission to help her with all costs.

Series Masterlist: The Company

A/N: Finally the last part of this story. I’ve been dragging my time to post this because I haven’t finished the next story, but who cares right? I just want to let the world know how the story ends. Of course shout out to my beta reader @arizonapoppy​, who always so patient and happy (I hope so) to help this stupid writer. Also there will be a little confusion of a character’s name, but I tried my best to make it understandable. hope you enjoy!

Go check the other series because *sst… It’s all connected!

Drenched, you step out from the bathroom and head to your desk. You paste a washi tape over the camera and close your laptop. The thought that Yoongi has been watching you all this time makes you shudder. But still you can’t hate him just yet. Even if your heart feels like it’s shredded into pieces, there’s still a part in your heart that wants to be with him, there’s still a part of you that wants to trust him.

What a fool, Y/N.

You walk slowly to your closet and take off your wet clothes, changing into your usual hoodie. Still, your hand moves subconsciously to a navy-blue sweater on the top of your clothes that has been one of your favorites. Your hand slowly caresses the soft material, and you pick it up and hold it close to your body, letting a familiar scent sneak up your nose.

Keep reading

”You are perfect”, “shut up”(reader x cable AKA Nathan Summers)

I wrote this in 2022 or something, I’m kinda proud of it, even though it’s pretty cringe, but I DON’T CARE. CRINGE WITH ME.

Stubborn injured reader x cable (Nathan Summers) one-shot

Warnings:

1-injury, details. 2-cringe. 3-self harm?? 4-magic use. 5-bad writing and editing. 6-self hate. 7-everything.

—————

Keep reading

Let It Snow

Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: When the power goes out at the Facility, Pietro makes sure you’re keeping warm.

Note: Takes place in an “Everybody is alive and lives at the Avengers Facility” AU. Wanted to kick out one more Christmas/Winter imagine before getting into the New Year’s stuff.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.5k

Reader Is: Gender Neutral, an Avenger.

To be honest, you didn’t notice it at first, the slight chill in the air. You continued your work, typing away on the loud, typewriter-style keyboard on the fancy, expensive computer Bruce had built for you (with Tony’s money, of course).

And then it got…worse.

Your toes were numb and you were shivering, despite the long sleeves you were wearing.

You slid your feet into some slippers and walked out into the hallway, arms huddled around yourself as you wandered from your room, down the hall to where the thermostat was. You gave the up button a cursory press, waiting for the screen to blink to life and tell you what it was set to, but it didn’t.

Huh. Well, that was something, wasn’t it?

“(Y/N). Hello.” Vision materialized beside you, causing you to jolt in shock. “My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Vision. Do you know what this is all about?” You asked, shivering and motioning to the busted thermostat.

“It appears the furnace is broken. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are attempting repairs now, but it may take quite some time.”

“Oh. Gotcha.” You nodded, “Thanks for the info.”

“Of course. I do recommend you bundle up. It seems your body temperature is steadily decreasing.”

“Will do.” You saluted and pivoted on your heel, just in time to catch a face full of Pietro as he sped down the hall, sliding to a stop.

You ever so gracefully fell on the floor, staring up at him, disgruntled. “Nice one, Sonic.”

He chuckled, offering a hand, but you got up on your own, dusting yourself off. “What is the problem?”

“Furnace is busted.” You explained, patting his arm as you began walking away.

Pietro started walking backwards, keeping pace with you. “Where are you going?”

“To get into something warmer. Might be a while.”

One of his eyebrows quirked up. “Well, you know, I’ve heard skin to skin contact is the fastest way to warm up, if you need some help with that. I do have ‘improved homeostasis,’ as Banner puts it.”

“I’m good, thanks.” You deadpanned, shutting your door in his face. You could feel him lingering there for a moment before running back down the hall to his room, you presumed. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Pietro was a flirt. Always had been. But things like this never worked out with people like him. Not in your experience, at least.

You changed into a cozy, zip-up onesie, feeling a lot warmer than before, especially with the hood over your head. You got back to your tying for a while. A few hours at least…until the lights went out.

“Great!” You threw your hands up, rolling away from the desk in your dark room.

In a huff, you stood up and walked to your window. It was a blizzard out there, inches and inches of snow on the ground. There was a knock on the door and whirled around to answer it. Part of you expected it to be Pietro standing there, but instead, it was Steve with a flashlight.

“Oh, hey. Is this because of the blizzard?”

“No, Tony says he snipped the wrong wire.” Steve shook his head. “Or something. Might be a while before it gets fixed.”

It was already getting late, and you were planning on going to sleep soon, but now, you weren’t so sure you should if you didn’t want to wake up a popsicle. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

You said, turning back to grab your phone and your water bottle to refill it before you figured out exactly what it was you should do in the meantime.

***

About an hour later, Pietro found you on the couch in the living room, shivering and reading a book by the light of a tiny, battery powered reading light. You were bundled up and, due to the lack of windows, you were pretty sure it was the warmest room in the facility. But as the temperature continued to drop, it didn’t seem to matter where you were.

“(Y/N), what are you doing in here?” He said, concern etched deep into his accented words. You met his eyes, wrought with worry and only offered a shaking shrug.

“I don’t want to g-go to sleep until the h-heat comes back on.”

He shook his head, crossing the room slowly for once, taking his time with each step. He sat beside you, not even bundled up beyond a hoodie and some sweatpants. For the first time in your life, you envied his powers. Carefully, giving you every opportunity to shove him off of you, he gently lifted your blanket, guided your book to the coffee table, and crawled on top of you, settling his body atop yours and sandwiching you between himself and the couch. He pulled the blanket back on top of the both of you, adjusting his head into the crook of your neck.

You were stiff at first, but at his warmth, you all but melted, eyes closing in bliss, your arms relaxing around him as you chased that feeling. His warmth. His scent, that sharp, woodsy cologne he was so infatuated with.

“Is this alright?” He asked, voice low and raspy.

You nodded, relaxing further into his hold, letting him warm you up. You pulled him closer, relishing in the feeling of your shivers slowly stopping. “Pietro…”

“I won’t say anything. The others don’t have to know.” He assured you, meeting your eyes before settling down again.

“I’m not too worried about that.” You whispered, suddenly overcome by it all. His proximity, his voice, the way his body felt melded against yours. It was right, what they said. Fitting like puzzle pieces.

“You’re not?” He asked, mischief at the edge of his tone. “Who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?”

You scoffed. “You know, contrary to popular belief, I don’t dislike you, Pietro.”

“I don’t dislike you either.” He replied with a chuckle. “Kind of the opposite, in fact.”

Your heart picked up a quicker rhythm, cheeks flushing. You were kind of thankful the two of you were cuddled up in the dark. You hoped nightvision wasn’t one of his secret powers, or you were sure you’d never see the end of it.

“Please say something.” He murmured at the silence.

“You…”

“I thought it was obvious.” He muttered, words quick, flat at the edges.

You let another moment pass, choosing your words.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to—”

You touched his face with a cold hand, guiding his chin so you could attempt to look him in the eyes in the silvery rays of light streaming in the window. “I like you, too.”

He grinned, breath catching in his throat. “You mean it?”

“I have for a while.” You confessed. “Since that first training session when you bulldozed me on the track.”

“I did not bulldoze you!”

“I don’t know, I felt pretty bulldozed, laying there, flat on my back, feet knocked out from under me.”

He chuckled. “I was trying to impress you.”

“Mission accomplished.” You laughed at the way frustration crept into his words. “I could never forget about it. My very first week on the team and already, someone was out to get me.”

“Oh my God.” He rolled his eyes, the words sounding unsure on his tongue. He shook his head, gaze softening as he reached up, a careful hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Are you warmer now, drága?”

“Much.” You nodded, brushing the tip of your nose against his. “I do have another idea for warming up, though…”

He smirked. “Such as?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Please do.”

You rolled your eyes, and looped an arm around his neck, tugging him down to you and crushing your lips to his. He hummed in agreement, calloused fingers hooking your jaw, keeping you close as his kissed you tenderly, passionately, lips soft and perfect and experienced. He was the perfect distraction from the freezing room around you.

Then, suddenly, there was a loud thrum and the power kicked back on, bathing the room in light. You squinted, the appliances in the kitchen all beeping as they came back to life.

Pietro shielded his eyes with a hand, still hovering over you. You stared up at him for a long, quiet moment, still not entirely sure it had happened until he dipped back down and pressed a long kiss to your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin.

“Now let’s get you to bed, hmm?” He asked, helping you off of the couch as the facility gradually warmed back up. The two of you walked down the hall together and you yawned.

“What were you two doing down there?” Bucky asked, standing in his doorway. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I was just letting (Y/N) know the heat was back on.” Pietro shrugged. “I am the quickest, you know.”

“Uh-huh. Right.” Bucky nodded, suspicious, but backing away into his room anyway.

You got to your door and stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Pietro. His hand grabbed at your waist, tugging you in for a kiss that you gladly returned. When you parted, you watched him speed down the hall, hoping that when you woke, it wouldn’t all be some sweet, winter dream.

The Love You Want (Part 1/2)

A/N: Long time no see.

Pietro Maximoff was a great teammate and a great "friends with benefits." That was, until you fell for him but he started to push you away. Now he was just a teammate with benefits. A charity gala put on by Tony causes tension between you and the speedster. Why is he so upset anyway?

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Warnings: Smut right out of the gate, sexual content, pining idiots, idiots who won’t communicate their feelings, language, angst, past trauma, jealousy

Words: 5,582

It was hard to not be bewitched by him. His half-lidded were partially obscured by a mess white-blonde hair, and his lips parted as he panted and tried not to fall apart below you.

But maybe it wasn't exactly him? Maybe the power you had to do this to him was bewitching? It was a slightly comforting thought. It put you in control. 

You pushed his hair back, lacing your fingers through and pulling.

Pietro moaned and tightened his grip on your hips making you hum in appreciation. You tugged his head to the side to expose the underside of his sharp jawline.

Your lips latched to the sensitive dip just below his ear and jaw.

A string of curses in his native tongue vibrated in his throat. Something about you and the devil. Your Sokovian was still pretty basic.

Your hips collided at a more frantic pace and you unrelentingly nipped and sucked as you gave a rough tug of his hair for good measure.

 "Fuck." English this time. “Fuck!

His hips stuttered and slowed. You continued to roll your hips, repaying the favor of him teasing out your own orgasm just moments earlier. You relished the way his thumps swirled lazily on your hip bones as he caught his breath.

Against your better judgment, you curled into him, chests rising and falling rapidly into one another.

"We have a brief in an hour." Pietro burst the bubble. He was already detangling himself from you, leaving apprehension in his wake as you kept yourself from locking your limbs around him.

"Yeah, I should probably go Shower." You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and looked down to your knees. It was getting harder to ignore the storm of emotion swirling in your chest.

Post-sex tended to end this way now.  You need to nuzzle into Pietro afterwards was near desperate.

But he didn't like that. It was clingy. At least for your casual arrangement. Friends with benefits. Snuggling beyond the haze of orgasms was over the friend line. This was just a convenience.

Neither of you had to go out and find a stranger when the urges hit. There was no need for the small talk and making sure the one-night stand wasn't a psycho.

Pietro was here and you were just down the hall. You trusted one another and knew each other’s likes and dislikes. And importantly, unbelievably sexually compatible.

…Aside from your need to be held afterwards.

In a quick breeze, your clothes landed in a pile next to you. Pietro had already retreated into the bathroom by the time you looked up.

Getting dressed was you second least favorite part. Half of your hookups occurred post training or missions. Your clothes were either still damp with sweat or dirty, and sometimes both.

With running Shoes in hand, you padded barefoot down the hall to your own suite. But not without escaping the judging eyes of Wanda. She leaned against her doorframe, as if expecting you to walk by.

"A little extra training, Y/N?" Wanda prodded.

Heat rushed to your face. "Just some extra weight training." 

"We were supposed to get showered and get lunch before the brief." Wanda narrowed her eyes at you. "Of which neither you and my brother did.”

“Really needed, uh, a spotter. We lost track of time. But we still had enough time for both."

Wanda rolled her eyes and retreated into her and Vis' room, not wanting to get into an endless argument about Pietro and you again. The last time you had, Wanda ignored you for two weeks. 

****

In the end, you did not have time for both a shower and eating lunch. You had wasted too much time overthinking and compartmentalizing in the shower.

With your hair still sopping wet and wearing a pair of mismatching socks, you raced to the conference room. 

All eyes went to you. Apparently, you were the last to show and the most unkempt.

"I feel asleep," you said dumbly.

“In the shower?" Tony quirked an eyebrow. 

“So, what if I did?" you snapped, surprising yourself and the team. At least three set of eyebrows had crept into hairlines. "Sorry, just tired is all.”

You avoided Pietro's gaze. It was searing into your chest. You rushed to your seat next to Nat. 

"Are you going to be okay for tonight?" Steve asked, concern creeping into his voice. 

"Tonight?" you echoed, looking to Nat, hoping for some clarity. The look you she gave you was not at all helpful. Her eyes loudly asked why the hell you didn't know.

"The Stark Industry sponsored charity gala with the highlight of all the Avengers showing up. The gala you promised me you'd make it to three months ago." Tony turned to inspect you. 

"I did?" You didn't recall even talking to Tony about it.

Pietro covering a laugh with a cough broke your internal scramble. "Sorry, has to clear my throat.”

 Your phone buzzed and you looked down to see a text from the culprit himself.

PIETRO:  🤖✊✊✊🚪😜😻😜🐈🥵🤫🥵🫢😫🫨

That made sense, it you vaguely remember with that play by play. Tony had come to talk to you about something when Pietro was short circuiting your mental state.

You had been trying to sound normal as Tony spoke with you through the door. But Pietro was unrelenting with his head burrowed between your legs. It was truly a miracle you could even get a coherent word out.

Your memory was rendered useless as you were on the edge of an Earth-shaking climax. Pietro had to throw his hand over your mouth to muffle your cry.

"I did!” You confirmed with a confidence you did not feel. "Sorry, I have a hard time with my memory."

This earned an eye roll from Wanda. To be fair to yourself, your short-term memory was a bit fuzzy. Some things were worse off after your fall from the helicarrier in DC in 2014. Namely memory, at least not strong memories, and anxiety. 

“What are we raising money for again?" Nat interrupted the uncomfortable silence that had crept in when everyone knew enough as to why you memory was not that great. 

"Local shelters,” Tony shrugged. "Pepper would be able to put together a more thorough list if you want?"

"And you want us to what exactly?” Steve said, “Since we are the highlight?"

"Schmooze your ass off. You should be good at that, it's your origin story." Tony grinned. 

Steve shook his head. "It's at least for a good cause." 

"When you say we, does that include Parker? "Bucky asked. 

"My dutiful intern Peter Parker, who is not a part of the Avengers, and a very normal college kid. No." Tony played clueless.

" And spiderman?" Bucky added for clarification.

"Out trapezing his neighborhood, looking to stop crime. I don't know what Spiderman has to do with any of us. Sure, he'll help out occasionally, but he's his own separate entity."

"An ally," you mused.

Tony clapped. " Yes, thank you. Ally. Our ally Spiderman will not be in attendance tonight. But my intern Peter Parker and his friends who have no association with said Spiderman will be.” 

****

"I can't believe you forgot". Nat rummaged through her closet, trying to find something that would fit you.

"I forget a lot of things these days,” you responded, distracted as you sat on her bed thumbing through a magazine.

"How is that, by the way? You've failed to bring up that it was still a big issue." Nat narrowed her eyes at a cream-colored gown then shook her head. The gown landed on top of a growing mound of rejected dresses.

"How come Clint isn't subjected to this?" You whined, stopping on an absurd article.

"You changed the subject. And Clint has a family and life outside of our shenanigans."

You chewed the inside of your cheek as your eyes involuntarily stung.

"Shit." Nat groaned. "Y/N. I'm so sorry.” 

"No, it's fine, really." You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to shake away the encapsulating grief. "It's been a decade, and you and Clint are my family. And you should be the last person to feel sorry for me." You focused back on the page. Nat had gone through 100 times the hell you had.

Sure, you had lost everything but your own life, barely, that day. But you and your parents had assumed the risk working for S.H.I.E.L.D..

They could have retired early and been professors in their studies. You could have lived nearby working as a nurse at the hospital. Not quiet, but not deadly. Most importantly, they would still be alive. 

"They would be happy you survived and your ability—” Nat’s eyes caught on a shimmery, deep ocean blue, silk number and she grinned. "Perfect."

You hardly looked but agreed. Your eyes returned to being unfocused on the article.

"Y/N, what is so interesting?" Nat look over your shoulder. "Thirteen delightfully devious ways to blow his mind! Pique your interest there?” Nat smirked. The gown now hung from the full-length mirror in the corner of her room. 

"Yeah right," you snorted. It was both a defense and a disguise. "Just keeping up with my peers.”

"I'm pretty sure your peers are not writing these articles. I cannot see anyone nearly in their 30s recommending to glue rhinestones around their pubic hair."

"Fair." You chucked the magazine and sized up the dress. "You know when I signed up to join the Avengers, I didn't see anything about being paraded around for money."

"You didn't sign shit. So now we're at the will and mercy of Stark because he funds our lifestyles. It can be fun. Though, I guess you don't have a date if you didn't know." 

"Why would I need a date? As far as I'm concerned, I'm working." Your brows furrowed as you looked to Nat who was watching you closely.

"To help with conversation.”

"Do you have a date?”

‘No, of course not. Bucky and I are teaming up though. Which I realize may be a mistake now that I remember he is terrible at small talk,” Nat groaned. 

You laughed at this. “So why don’t I go with one of the team?” A small voice inside whispered Pietro’s name. 

"Thor is off planet."

"Lucky bastard."

"Bruce is tasked with trying to secure some data from a bioengineer."

"I can help Br—” 

"No. I don't want you anywhere near Bruce for this. This bioengineer may have ties with Hydra—” 

"Steve's gotta be available?” You quickly put the conversation back on the safer side.

"Steve is hitting up the major politicians and defense contractors with Sam. They are great for their PR. This would make you more visible if you joined." 

You tensed. "That leaves Pietro and Peter. Platonically and professionally, of course.” 

"Parker is not teaming up with any of us. You heard Stark, Parker’s just his intern. We don't want him associated closely to the Avengers,” she reminded you. "Besides, he'll have his girlfriend and friend with him. It'd be weird for you to hang out with college kids you supposedly barely know.” 

“So, Pietro can be my date then.” You tried your best not to sound too pleased. 

"I think he's taking that woman that writes the articles about him in that gossip magazine."

It was a bucket of ice water over your head. "That bitch?! The one who wrote that article about me being the most boring and clumsy Avenger featuring a picture of me spilling ice coffee on myself after a super sweaty, hot yoga class!?” 

"Woah! It was just one article, right?" Nat shook her head, taken aback by your outburst.

"Oh no, far more unflattering pictures and articles. Somehow, it's only me getting the negative press. Why the fuck would he bring her? When he knows—” you cut yourself off to take a calming breath. "It'll be fine. But I swear to god, if a picture of me stuffing my mouth full of shrimp cocktails is featured next week, I will kill him."

"Relax, I don't think they could even get an unflattering photo of you in this if they tried." Nat held out the dress, grinning.

****

Nat may have been right. If Steve did a double take, in a very well-mannered, gentleman way, this dress was something. 

The silk accentuated your shape and, in a daring first time move, you ignored the discomfort at having your scars exposed. The dress was backless with silk pooling in a “U” just above your ass. The cut outs at the curves of your hips trailed to just tastefully under your breasts. The slit up one leg reached your upper thigh. A small section of burns was visible if you settled your leg just right. 

The large mass of your puckered skin did not see the light of day outside the tower. They were obvious and hard to ignore. The events leading up to the fall, and the fall itself, had imprinted on you in far too many ways.

"You look beautiful," Steve offered.

"Thank you." You graciously accepted for once in your life.

"Handsome as always boys." You included Bucky and Sam in this. Bucky you'd never seen out of sweats and black jeans for years. Him in a suit was quite jarring, in a good way of course.

"This does not look productive,” Tony teased, walking into the group with Pepper and Morgan. “These people aren't going to schmooze themselves."

"If I hear the word Schmooze one more time,” you murmured to Nat.

A low chuckle sounded behind you, and you turned to see the eerily groomed speedster in a tailored suit. The sight made you freeze and thankfully he was as dumbstruck by you. All the heat rose to your cheeks.

"Where's your date?" Pietro cocked his head, biting back a sly grin.

"You're an asshole for many reasons. This being one of them. You very well know—” You hissed, but caught sight of Sierra Lineheart, the damn gossip reporter, heading Pietro's way with two drinks in hand. 

This was your queue to bolt in the opposite direction. If she couldn't see you, she couldn't report on you.

****

You were relieved to catch sight of 3 familiar college students standing next to a server with a tray of bruschetta. MJ was the first to notice your presence. 

"Oh, hey Y/N. Long time no see."

"Hey, how's college?" You snagged a piece from the tray, wolfing it down in a single bite. God you were hungry. Why were you so hungry? Oh, right, you had let a stupidly sexy man distract you this morning.  

This was all Pietro’s fault, he had made you miss lunch and he had basically made you blindsided by this event so you had no time to eat. 

If Sierra Lineheart weren’t here, you would probably go to each tray and scarf down a few servings. So, your hunger was even more Pietro’s fault. 

"College, you know how it is." Ned shrugged. You actually didn't, but nonetheless. You snuck another piece of bruschetta from the tray. 

"Everything good?" Peter looked around suspiciously.

"Why wouldn’t it be?" You breathed, smoothing your free hand down the front of your dress.

"You seem very jumpy. Are you okay?"

"Do I? Yeah? Crowds. People. You know? Ahh! I, uh, need some fresh air." Your hands flailed as you talked, sending some of the tomatoes tumbling off the crostini. Peter snatched it out of your hand before it could do any damage. "Thanks. See you later."

You made a beeline for the balcony. It was thankfully empty as you gasped for air. Why were you upset suddenly? What was there to be emotional about?

You turned to go back inside but saw Sierra on Pietro's arm, a dazzling smile set naturally on her face as Pietro chatted energetically with the couple in front of them.

His gaze moved over to your direction, sending you diving behind a large potted plant.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out and footsteps headed your direction. “Did I just see you tactical roll into a shrub?” 

You thanked the heavens that it was Bucky. He was the least likely person to mention it to anyone else. 

“No,” you groaned from your hiding spot.

“You're avoiding somebody." It wasn't a question. It didn't have to be when you were crouched behind a shrub. 

"Yes," you sighed.

Bucky extended his hand out to you. "You shouldn't hide. Especially in that dress.” 

If it wasn’t Bucky, you'd think it was flirting. He was just a straightforward guy, and you knew him well enough to call him a friend. 

"You're avoiding too." you argued but took his hand. He gently pulled you to your feet and out from behind the shrub.

“Yes, but it's everybody. Not a someone. I’m pretty sure our reasons are quite different." Bucky peered behind you through the glass doors. “Who could be sending our brave YIN into this state?"

"Brave?" you snorted. "Not brave."

Bucky frowned. "I've seen you throw yourself into an active combat zone without a thought, to heal one of us on many occasions.”

"It isn't brave when I know that I'll come out alive 99 percent of the time." 

“It still hurts you and it still leaves scars." Bucky nodded to the small bullet wound just under your left clavicle…one of your many. "And I remember… that day… in DC."

You flinched and wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I saw you try to save your parents from him. I heard him offer to spare you and bring him with you if you let him do his mission. I heard that you loved him, but you still fought him. You took the serum and threw yourself—” 

"Stop! In the end it didn't matter!” The tears were threatening to spill over. “It didn't save them."

"I'm sorry I didn't do anything to help." Bucky’s eyes were soft and full of regret when they shouldn’t have been. 

This caused a hysterical giggle to escape you. "Bucky, that wasn't you. You didn't even remember Steve and he's your best friend. I was a stranger who wasn't on the right side of the mission and actively trying to thwart Hydra. I'm lucky you didn't step in a try to help kill me. I don't accept your apology because you don't owe me one."

"Fair, and I have to accept that," Bucky mused.

"Therapy?"

"My own personal list." He smiled wryly. 

"Well thanks for thinking of me though. If you were you, you would have helped, and that's what matters." 

"So let me help you now.” Bucky nudged you with his shoulder. “What can I do to make you not hide in a corner, and try and enjoy the night?" 

You looked back into the ballroom. You easily caught the bright white hair in crowd. Pietro was looking bored into the distance as his date talked to some benefactor. "I don't know, just keep me—”

Sierra reached over to sensual run her hand up his bicep and he tensed, his face twisting in a brief sneer of disgust. You paused as the gears started to turn in your brain. Pietro recovered and forced on the fakest smile you had ever seen him give.

"That mother fucker!" You threw your hands in the air. "Oh my god, he's an idiot!"

"I'm sorry, who?" 

"Pietro. He brought that gossip column woman as his date. He's trying to make me jealous." 

"Jealous?" Bucky looked back and forth to the speedster and you, piecing it together. "Are you dating?” 

"Exclusively casual,” you seethed, "for a while. But right now, it appears he’s messing that up by thinking it'd be a good idea to make me jealous. Especially with her. Wanting me to believe he would choose her over me?" 

"That is stupid and highly childish,” Bucky observed.

You scoffed in agreement. 

"Want to return the favor?" He tilted his head in Pietro's direction.

"How so?"

Bucky gave you a mischievous grin. 

 "A taste of his own medicine."

****

Bucky guided you to the bar, his hand resting on the small of your bare back. Your path happened to be directly in front of Pietro.

It was innocent to Pietro's sight at first. He immediately fixed his gaze on you when you'd come back in. He was drinking you in, while attempting to put in more of an effort not to not look annoyed by his date. 

But then Pietro’s eyes noticed Bucky's hand placement and your proximity, and his lips twisted into a sneer. You gave a relaxed smile and leaned into Bucky's touch. 

"This may be too easy. He's ridiculously possessive,” you murmured. 

"And you’re only being casual, why?"

"It was hard for me to trust men in that sense. Pietro was my friend. I trusted him enough. But not enough to consider a relationship. Pietro also has trust issues. It was a mutual attraction and it just made sense.”

"And now? What's changed?" Bucky helped you into the bar stool, quietly ordering two Manhattans.

"We’ve been in this, whatever this is, for almost two years. One day he just started being distant.  Like I was just a one night stand each time. I don't think I can call us friends anymore. Our interactions are limited to work, antagonizing each other, and sex with no intimacy. I don't even know if there is a point anymore—” You took a deep breath and caught Bucky's frown. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I just vomited all that information on you. I should keep that to my therapist or finally get the courage to talk to Nat about it. You don't want to hear my ridic—” 

"Y/N, " Bucky interrupted, placing your drink in your hand and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He had to pointedly ignore the glare starting to burn holes in his skull. "It is okay. It's definitely my 100-year-old man energy that makes you open up. And I'd like to think we're friends." 

"I think we are."

"So, let me just put something out there, if you'll let me?” Bucky said softly. 

“I'll allow it."

"You love Pietro."

You nearly choked on your drink. "What?" 

"You've been exclusive for so long and even though he's been emotionally distant, you still stayed. If you didn't love him, you'd stop the arrangement because you're fed up."

"I-I, no, I don't think, I'm able to—" you scrambled to try and dissuade him from making any sense of your inner turmoil.

"You're scared, but not for the reasons you think. For once it's not because of your past. It's just normal. You're scared he may not feel the same, and that's okay. But maybe it's time you tell him?” 

You rose an eyebrow at him, preparing to deflect. "You sound like a therapist.”

"You'd rather just his game than? Play jealously chicken until you obliterate your arrangement?" Bucky's tone was a warning.

"Yes,” you sniffed, feigning indifference. 

"Okay." He watched you for a moment before giving you a warm smile. "As long as that's what you want. I won't mind pissing off Speedy."

You turned your body towards him, letting your thigh touch the inside of his. 

"He started it," you breezed. "And with the worst person."

"Just remember that he is also going to be angry with you once this is all over,” Bucky grabbed your hand a placed a kiss on your palm.

"I'm already angry. So good. At least you're in on this. She thinks Pietro likes her. And I'm going to be the victim of the wrath if she finds out he used her for me."

You twirled Bucky's hand in your own, lacing your fingers together on top of the bar.

"He is ready to murder me," Bucky whispered in your ear. It looked pretty damning to anyone watching.

His hand trailed to touch the brush your hair from the back of your neck. One would think it would cause a rush of excitement being touched this way by Bucky. But it was not at all what you wanted. You would have been a puddle if it were Pietro. You leaned into Bucky’s touch to put on a show and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Not surprised, he does not like to share,” you smirked. 

"You're good. But what are the odds he takes a swing at me?" Bucky’s thumb brushed your jawline. 

"If you keep this up, highly likely. Though he has no right. He's made it abundantly clear tonight that it is nothing more than casual."

"What is going on here?" Nat saddled up the pair of you, looking back and forth.

"Act supportive," you said through a smile, placing a hand on Bucky's chest. "I'll explain later."

Shit, Nat was going to be pissed when she knew. But only because you kept it from her for a whole two years. Nat mimicked your bright smile and embraced the pair of you. "Why do I have a feeling I am going to want to kick your ass, Y/N?" she hissed.

"It'll be a funny story, so long as nobody else gets their asses kicked tonight."

"I make no promises. If he swings, I am going to swing back. I'm not going to let him get a hit in. He’ll become even more cocky,” Bucky said into your hair.

"I know, I wouldn't expect anything else of you Bucky. It'll be his fault. He brought her.”

Nat leaned casually against the bar, trying to glean something to clue her in to the conversation. She clocked the glare of a speedster with the conniving, piss poor example of a journalist in his company. Sierra was currently oblivious to Pietro's fixation.

"Y/N," Nat said through gritted teeth, "please, for the love of god, do not tell me you trying to make Pietro Maximoff jealous. Of all the people."

"I don't have to tell you. You just said it,” you mumbled into your drink. 

"It's definitely working, he is eyeing me up." Bucky's hand went down to rest on your bare skin above your hip. 

"He’s probably trying to remember which of your arms detaches.”

Bucky put on a good show of a real laugh, but it cut off abruptly. "If he tries that, Y/N, I will beat the shit out of him.” 

You grimaced, maybe employing Bucky as your fake date was not a great idea. Pietro while improving, was still impulsive. 

And he had been adamant that he didn't share…

Inserting Bucky may have been an explosive detonating in your face.

"Why would he even be jealous? It's not like you two—wait, are you two dating?" Nat glared at you.

"No." 

"Exclusively casual is how she explained to me,” Bucky offered.

"That's honestly worse. You're fuck buddies? Since when?"

You tensed under your friend’s judgment.  “Awhile."

"Y/N!”

"2 years,” Bucky added.

"I told you that in confidence!" You gaped at him.

"2 years?" Nat's voice rose. "All this time I've been trying to get you to hook up with anyone. But you've been with him, without any of us knowing?"

"Wanda does,” you grumbled.

"So, she's so cold with you because of this? You used to be friends, then you weren't?"

“She hasn't been too keen on the arrangement, no. Not sure—”

"Speedy is on the move," Bucky warned.

Pietro was nearly vibrating with rage as he approached. Sierra had to power walk to keep up with him. His eyes slid over Nat, to Bucky, and landed on you. His jaw clenched when he noted Bucky's hand still on your bare skin.

"Y/N, I'm sure you remember Sierra Lineheart. She does the Avengers articles. Sierra you know the team." Pietro never took his eyes off you.

"I'm very familiar. Good to see you all. Don’t worry, everything is off the record I am not here as press today." Sierra gave a giggle, leaning heavily into Pietro's side. He tensed and a wave of satisfaction crashed through you. That idiot. 

He really was trying to make you jealous. But he was not comfortable with her. She wasn't a good option because she wasn't in on it. And he didn't trust her. He'd made the wrong move.

"You two look like absolute lovebirds. A romance in the team?" Sierra was far too jovial. 

"How did this happen?" Pietro turned his icy glare on Bucky who gave a lazy smile in return.

"Yeah, you and Y/N? How could that happen?” It should have been an innocent question, but it felt like there was malicious intent behind it. Sierra had it out for you for one reason or another. 

"Y/N is beautiful, smart, and she really cares about people. What is there to happen?" Bucky twirled a lock of your hair absentmindedly and gave a pointed look at Pietro. "Remember that time she healed you in the—” 

Pietro paled a little as you felt the air rush out of your lungs at the mention of Pietro’s brush with death. Nat gripped your elbow, steadying the sway of your body. Bucky noticed and adjusted his hand further down your hip, squeezing to hold you in place.

A low growl rumbled in Pietro's chest; his trauma momentarily forgotten. That was his spot. 

Had he not just been holding you there 8 hours ago? He would bet a month’s salary that small bruises had started to form. You loved that.

“So, Y/N, what battle are those scars from? From what I 've heard, you're more of a medic. Like the team nurse?" Sierra nodded to the prominent scarring just above Bucky's grip.

Pietro whipped his head to Sierra, incredulous.

"What? She put them on display. She wants people to ask." Sierra rolled her eyes. 

Your jaw clicked. “Care to—” 

“Yeah, we're going to go.” Bucky tried to steer you away from Pietro and Sierra, but Pietro‘s hand was around your wrist in a blink. Bucky was now two feet back from you.

"Can I speak to you?" Pietro growled and cast a glance at Nat and Bucky standing offensively. "Privately.” 

You pulled your hand from his grasp and looked over his shoulder. Bucky made a hand gesture you interpreted as "go." 

"Sure,” you acquiesced, letting Pietro lead the way.

His private place was an empty coat check. A sign on the counter stated they would be back in ten minutes. Pietro closed the shutters and whirled on you.

"What was that?" His nostrils flared. "You can't seriously be here with Bucky?"

"And why not? He's a perfectly respectable man," you defended your fake relationship. You weren't going to be the first to fess up.

"He's old enough to be your great-grandpa!"

You rose an eyebrow. “On paper? Sure. Physically? No. Is that your only concern? If so—” You made to move for the door.

Pietro appeared in front of you, pinning you to door. 

You sighed and let your head fall back against the door. "I'm tired, Pietro. I'm tired of feeling like I’m just a warm body for you. I can't even call you a friend with benefits because we haven't been friends for a year."

Pietro looked at you sharply and opened his mouth to protest.

"When was the last we hung out outside of work or sex?” you interrupted. His answer was silence. “The day after you—” your voice got stuck in your throat. You cleared it and started over. 

“The day after you almost died and I saved you, we were so close. Then the following morning—” An exasperated laugh came out of you as you shook your head. “it—it was like I was nothing to you. Like I was a stranger after a one-night stand."

The tears began to prick the corner of your eyes. "And then you kept pushing me away. Then you’d pull me right back to get off. Then poof, get out. I'm an idiot for letting you. But I was fucking desperate for any piece of you, so I always did. And every time I convinced myself that you won’t just toss me aside like the last time."

The tears were spilling over now. "Then you brought HER here! When you very well know she has some weird vendetta against me." 

Pietro’s eyes were wide, but he still did not speak. 

"Why?" You croaked. "Isn't what you're doing already enough? What do you think you have to do to me?" You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I told you I loved you that night. Which is a bit unfair because I said it while you were sleeping. But I said it out loud. Which was a big step for me.” 

“Draga,” his said, his voice cracking. “I didn’t—” 

The door to the coat room shoved open behind you and Nat’s head peaked in. 

“Y/N? Tony’s looking for you. Something about some fancy doctor’s needing to be schmoozed with your medical knowledge.”

“Great.” You looked up at the ceiling, willing the waterworks to stop. “Thanks Nat.” You quickly made your escape. The room had started to feel like it was closing in around you. 

“Y/N,” Pietro whispered. “I—” 

“Don’t worry about it, Pietro. I understand okay. Best we just stop, right?”

You let go and walked away to do some goddamn schmoozing. 

J.Jaehyun Fic Recommendations

For all the Jae lovers :)

other fic rec posts : 1. 2.(active post)

🫀- favorites

(🫀) Stars, moons and other celestial bodies @kiachiako

WC: 26.7k Brother!Taeyong Retro-themed AU

With your fizzy drinks and vinyls in tow, you’re determined to make the most of your summer before the start of your first year at university. Everything’s seemingly perfect; humid afternoons with your closest friends, late-night mixers at your local alumnis' estates, and sleeping in to ungodly hours. What you didn’t predict, however, was your brother making the early trip home to surprise you with a certain someone — namely, his best friend since childhood — following closely behind. His unexpected appearance throws you off, and suddenly, your summer is filled to the brim with his presence. You’re finally able to taste the idea of mature love, but is it really all that it’s made out to be?

FIVE PLUS ONE @ppangjae

WC: 28.8k+ Chef!Jaehyun, enemies to lovers

Five times world-renowned chef Jeong Jaehyun tried to end your journey to be a chef  because you weren’t ‘qualified enough to be a chef’ and that one time you proved him wrong. 

(🫀) King Of the Streets @anashins

WC: 28k Streetracer!jaehyun x Journalist!reader

The moment you find yourself hiding in the backseat of a sports car that's illegally racing through the city, you just know this story will finally catapult you to the top of your journalism career. But there are a few things you haven't reckoned: How personal this story will eventually turn - and the driver's sheer insatiable craving for lollipops. And for you.

The V Week Spy @smileysuh

WC: 20.1k Frat!au Jaehyun x afab!reader

Every year, seven days before Valentines day, sororities and frats are paired together, and eligible himbos, hoes, bimbos and fuckboys alike volunteer to be raffled for a chance to become the year’s V Week Spy. V Week is open season, with outings and parties tailored to be the perfect excuse for sexscapades, with the knowledge than 1 boy and 1 girl are undercover, grading sexual performances. Once the week is over, at the annual Valentines Day Party, the evaluations are presented- It’s a bad time to be unsure about someone’s feelings towards you, and an even worse time to fall in love.

(🫀)HEARTS ARE WON AT PRACTICE @angelwonie

WC:21.2k Football player!Jaehyun , Enemies to friends to lovers

jung jaehyun is an obnoxious, way too handsome footballer whom you have no intention of getting to know. at least until a series of coincidences forces you to spend time with him, and you realize there might be more to him than what meets the eye.

Try Again @gimmehyuck

WC: 19.8k Idol!jaehyun x Teacher!reader

jaehyun remembers the night he met you, and even after that one night he often thought of you and wished things would have been different, but by a weird twist of fate he gets to see you again, except this time... you're not alone.

Runway @wincore

WC: 18.7k Model!jaehyun x Fashion designer!reader

there are some things that come with dedicating your life to fashion: a taste for finer fabrics, a splash of love for art, and an appreciation of the human body. none of these are supposed to include the hottest model you have ever laid eyes on, or the fact that you completely, utterly hate his guts. 

Christmas Puppy @smileysuh

WC: 11k Best friends brother/boy next door Jaehyun

“God, you’re so jealous,” you laugh. Your best friend’s brother doesn’t usually act this way, at his frat, everyone knows you’re his, no one would dare come near you- but here, in your hometown, surrounded by past crushes and would be romancables, it’s open season, and it’s clear that it’s making Jaehyun uncomfortable.

runway (m) | jung yoonoh

pairing: model!jaehyun x fashion designer!reader

words: 18.7k

summary: there are some things that come with dedicating your life to fashion: a taste for finer fabrics, a splash of love for art, and an appreciation of the human body. none of these are supposed to include the hottest model you have ever laid eyes on, or the fact that you completely, utterly hate his guts. 

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, light smut, comedy-ish

warnings: sexual content, mentions of anxiety

a/n: woohooooooo she’s finally here!!!! i cant believe this!! everything aside, i do not have first hand experience working in the fashion industry so please do take this with a grain of salt. i’m also going to pass out. good night <3

A list of things you appreciate: colours, satin, comfort.

A list of things you do not appreciate: Jung Yoonoh. Jaehyun. Whatever.

The hum of the car engine has little effect on you; you travel like this almost every day. Tall buildings, scorching pavement, the blare of traffic—it’s Seoul, after all. You sigh, more of a short expression of annoyance, scrolling down with your thumb and back up again. Since when did he get permission to post pictures from pre-fittings? And one of your works, no less. 

His feed is so messy. You click your tongue. For a model, that is. 

Keep reading

In Front of Me (Teaser)

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriend to lovers, angst, smut (18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: TBA (this teaser: 679) ⊹ release date: TBA

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time. ⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, bestfriends to lovers (?), unrequted love, emotionaly stunted charcters, wonwoo has a bit of an ego, toxic!wonwoo&reader. (more tags and smut tag added to full fic when posted.) ⊹ note: im really excited to share this with you all. its not by any means done but heres a teaser for now since ive been away for so long ♡ also the teaser is not edited so pls just ignore if theres typos hehe. lov u all pls come into my ask box cuz i refuse to shut up abt this story :p.

⊹ masterlist, taglist, fic playlist.

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.

Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the break up, to lose feelings first, every decision was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up to your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his bestfriend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

{໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১  ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆˙}

Less than fourty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence is perfectly normal, then maybe, you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he had witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin of all people solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he can keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.

⊹ a/n: if u want to be apart of the taglist please fill out the form, comment or send an ask! please note that i'll only add those who have an age indicator somewhere in their blog! thank you ♡

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

moon song || ljh

warnings: post breakup au. ex idol!reader. reader has an implied suicide attempt(s) in the past. reader is implied to do something akin to relapsing at the end of the fic. ed talk. lots of pressure that comes w being an idol. clubs. drinking. seungcheol hates y/n for leaving. leaving the idol industry behind. seeing your ex after four years. hurt w very little comfort. right person, wrong time.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: vent piece mostly. abt my frustration of still being sick, abt my frustration of not seeming to get better, abt how it never seems to stop. abt all of my wasted potential as a person. all of it, none of it, everything and nothing at all. i am so tired.

please read with caution. this is just a lot of emotions all in one place.

The loud bass that hits your head as soon as you enter the club makes your head pound immediately. It’s been four long years since you’ve even been in this part of Seoul, let alone been in a club with this group of ex-colleagues.

Ex-colleagues is certainly one way to put it. They were all so much more, and you know that this is just an excuse for all of them to get drunk. You wonder briefly if Jihoon’s here. He never used to drink, but then again, he didn’t do a lot of things until you were in the picture. You wonder how much has changed now that you’re not.

The memory of him burns like a hot iron branding your back, and you head to the nearest table of refreshments to grab a drink. If he’s here, you’ll need all the alcohol you can get your hands on. Maybe that makes you no better than anyone else; no better than the scene you so desperately needed to leave four years ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.

You’re no longer apart of it. What you do now won’t cost you your career. If the night ends with you passed out in an alley way simply because you saw your ex at an album release party for an album he produced, so be it. He never comes to these things anyways.

At least, he didn’t when you knew him. You haven’t known Jihoon for a long time. It’s been four years after all; a lot can change in a week, let alone four years.

Like your decision to leave the K-pop industry. You had mulled over it for weeks, before you brought it up to anyone, and you didn’t go to Jihoon first. He was the last person you told. At least, officially, that you were leaving.

All those years of work as a trainee, just for it to be nothing. All of the tears, the angry screams into your pillow, the poverty your company forced you into in the first few years of your career because it was boarding on bankruptcy. All of this wasted potential. Maybe you could’ve been someone great.

You were, for a few years. Your group took off, and the first few years of success made all of the hard work feel like it was worth something. But as the saying goes, too much of a good thing won’t be good for long.

The pressure started to build, and it built until it boiled over and you were found on the verge of doing something terrible in your bathroom by your boyfriend and your manager after a week of unusual silence. Jihoon never was a crier, but god did he sob as he held you in the back of the ambulance. He had never begged for anything the way he begged for you to talk to him.

Please, god, please talk to me Y/N. Please, baby. I can’t— I can’t lose you.

It’s funny, really, how things work out. You dug yourself so deep into this hole of despair from the pressure of being an idol, that the only way out of it was to completely separate yourself from that life and start over.

After terminating your contract, you broke up with Jihoon. Or, you didn’t break up with him, only told him that you needed to take a break while you sorted yourself out. After being on a break for four years, is it still just a break? Or are you broken up at that point?

Both you and Jihoon know the answer to that.

Three years of no social media, no articles about you, none of your old friends reaching out to check in on you because they held a contractual obligation to be nice to you in the hallways. Three and a half years out of the spotlight. Three and a half years of peace, of healing, of sorting your life out and learning how to breathe again.

It’s been four years without Jihoon, and you didn’t really think much about the consequences that potentially sharing a space with him would have. But now they’re suffocating. All you can think about is the potential possibility of him being here, which, he wouldn’t be, right? He hates these kinds of gatherings. He used to skip his own release parties to watch shitty romance movies with you on the couch in his studio.

Does he have someone new to watch romance movies with? Or has he given up romance altogether? You know from the first few months, updates provided by Soonyoung, that he didn’t take the distance very well. You know that he missed you, and he worried about you constantly. You know you’re spiralling, and you know all those years of therapy will be for nothing if you don’t pull yourself out of it.

You don’t have to do that, because Seungkwan does it for you. “Y/N? You came!” He seems elated that you’re here, off his rocker, probably drunk.

“Of course I came! It’s your first album as BSS, Seungkwan.” You smile, and it’s not forced at all. You have completely forgotten how easy it is to fall into banter with Seungkwan. It’s almost like you never left in the first place.

Except something in his eyes seems off. That’s your first red flag to turn around and get the fuck out of this club, but you don’t. “My god. It’s been so long. How are you doing?” With anyone else, the small talk would’ve taken you out back and killed you. It’s different with Seungkwan.

Different how? He was one of the only people who consistently checked in on you when you first left. As you settled into your new life, the texts became less frequent; now, four years later they’re hardly anything to notice, but he’ll still send you a text on every holiday, and he’s wished you happy birthday every year since you met him.

“I’m doing a lot better. I’m… I’m good.” You laugh softly. Seungkwan smiles at you.

“That’s good. I’ve missed having you around— of course I don’t expect you to come back into this scene, but it would be nice to see you sometime.” Seungkwan squeezes your shoulder softly and smiles wider.

“Yeah, of course. I know I’ve been gone, but I’ll make it less hard to get a hold of me. I’ve missed all of you, truth be told.” You smile back. “I’ve just… been doing a lot of healing and I think it’s about time I finally start reconnecting with people. Is everyone here?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah. We’re all here! I kind of spilled that I invited you so everyone decided to come just in case you showed up.” The depth of all doesn’t really seem to cross Seungkwan’s mind; he’s certainly not thinking about Jihoon right now, or Seungcheol for that matter. You’re pretty sure Seungcheol would punch you if he caught sight of you. Maybe Jihoon would too. You have no idea how Jihoon even feels about you.

“Even, uh, Jihoon?” The smile falls from Seungkwan’s face.

“Oh. Yeah. He’s here too.” Seungkwan swallows when he sees your face shift. “You… he-he wants to talk to you. It’s not my place to really say, but he’s not mad. I think he just wants closure.”

So maybe Jihoon wouldn’t punch you. That’s a bit of a relief.

“Oh my god! Y/N! You came!” It’s Seokmin, very clearly drunk. You didn’t keep in contact with him, though he did send you a few paragraphs over text as he wished you all the best, telling you to reach out if you ever needed anything. You didn’t take him up on the offer.

“I did!” You smile, tilting your head as you look up at Seokmin.

“Can I have a hug?” He’s already opening his arms and you slide right into them. His hug is firm and warm. You’ve missed Seokmin a lot more than you cared to admit. Seungkwan grumbles about how he should’ve asked for a hug and you laugh, pulling him into one.

You catch up with Seokmin briefly before he’s being pulled away by someone you don’t know. You stick with Seungkwan, talking about your life, the album, avoiding the subject of Jihoon.

And then you turn your head at the bright sound of laughter, and you see him. You see him, and he’s not the same mess he was when you left him with no promise of when you’d see each other next. He’s not the scared man in his early twenties who had no idea if you were going to die on him. He’s not the man who stayed with you in the hospital for days on end.

He’s not the producer you knew who’d slide his headphones over your ears as he pulled you into his lap. He’s not the warm hand that held yours because you forgot your gloves again. He’s not the hushed giggles at four in the morning, or the hurried kisses, or the soft whimpers and praises as you tangled yourselves in his bedsheets.

Jihoon isn’t yours anymore.

You had hoped he wouldn’t be such a sore subject for you anymore, but seeing him in all of his glory four years later… god does it fucking hurt. You’ve done a lot of healing in the last four years, but in that time you never really had the time to process the loss of Jihoon.

Soonyoung spots you, and that’s when you know you’re doomed, because if Soonyoung is distracted, Jihoon always notices the thing that catches him off guard. You try to pull your eyes away from Jihoon, but you can’t. You swear he’s gotten more beautiful in the last four years.

He’s gotten bigger, physically— far more muscular. You can see the curve of his pecks through his shirt, one that isn’t even tight against his body. Jihoon’s always been a big fitness buff, but it appears he’s put more effort into himself. His biceps strain against the fitted sleeves of his long sleeve black shirt.

Jihoon’s face looks different too. He still has the same round cheeks you used to always pinch and prod at. His jawline is still soft, but it’s more defined. His eyes are bright, and the bags under them are still there. You wonder briefly if he’s ever gotten rid of them; if the skin under his eyes has ever matched the rest of his milky complexion.

His hair is longer than you’ve ever seen it. Dark and flowy, it’s reflective and healthy, half tied up with what would be his undercut hanging freely. A few pieces frame his face. It looks soft and healthy. Jihoon looks soft and healthy.

He’s smiling as he scans the crowd to find what Soonyoung is distracted by, and then he spots you. The smile is wiped off of Jihoon’s face faster than your brain can even register it. Seungkwan stiffens beside you, hand finding your shoulder to steady you as you stumble briefly, but the pull between you and Jihoon is too much.

Both of you start moving towards each other, pushing your way through the crowd. “Y/N.” His voice comes out in a breath, chest heaving and then he’s there, right in front of you, after four years.

You don’t know what to say, can’t process the fact that he’s in front of you, as beautiful as ever. “Jihoon,” you echo, “hi.” You can’t help the small smile that threatens to pull at your lips. The tension on Jihoon’s face eases, but he doesn’t smile back.

“Hi. How are you doing?” Jihoon asks, and if it was anyone else, it would’ve been a sad attempt at small talk. It’s Jihoon, so you know he’s asking how you’re doing now, if you’re better. A part of him is asking if you still feel like killing yourself. The answer to the last part is no.

“I’m… better. A lot better.” You laugh awkwardly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t doing okay.” Now, Jihoon actually does smile at you, and though it’s small, it’s still there.

“You look a lot better. Healthier. I’m glad.” Jihoon takes a sip of his drink as he looks down at you. He’s right; you’re much healthier now. There’s solid meat on your bones, your thighs touch and your ribs don’t show anymore. Your face has filled out, cheeks full and round. Your eyes don’t look as though they’re sunken into your skull, they’re brighter now; they seem to shine with life in a way they never have before.

Jihoon takes you in properly, and god, you’ve gotten so much more beautiful since the last time he saw you. It hurts. It hurts a lot to see how good you look now, without him. He knows it’s a lot more complicated than that, but it still hurts nonetheless.

You look healthy, like an actual person and not a skeleton, and you were never that way when you were an idol. You were never like that when you were with Jihoon.

“Oh, um, thank you. Should we… should we sit? We have a lot to talk about.” You laugh again to hide your nerves. Jihoon can still read you, and he knows you’re brimming with nerves. He knows you’re a little scared, probably more than a little, and he is too.

You’ve never breached the subject, hardly even talked about your breakup. Jihoon doesn’t like to think about it. He just doesn’t. He doesn’t like to think about how much worse you were doing, even if it destroyed him. The breakup was harder on you, tenfold, and you went through it alone.

“I- uh. Yeah, yeah, we can go sit. It’s probably about time we talk.” Jihoon laughs nervously, closing his eyes for a second. He wordlessly starts walking towards the vacant booths of the club. You follow close behind.

Jihoon sits down, and you take a seat across from him. It’s silent for a few moments. Both of you are staring at your cups, not drinking, just swirling your liquids of choice.

Jihoon speaks first, but he can’t look at you. “Why’d you have to leave me?” He asks, and his voice breaks softly as he says it. You certainly weren’t expecting that as the first question he asked, but you don’t really know what else he would’ve asked.

“I… I had to leave everything that had to do with being an idol behind. You… you included.” It’s a shitty answer, but you can’t think in Jihoon’s presence.

“I understand that, but I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve helped you get help. You didn’t have to do it by yourself, Y/N. I loved you; I would’ve done anything to make sure you were safe.” Jihoon’s bites at his lip, eyes sparkling in the low lights of the club. He looks like he’s about to cry, and god does it break your heart.

He loved you, past tense. It’s jarring. It stings, but what else did you expect? For him to still want you? That’s unrealistic and completely unfair to expect from him.

It hits you then that you might still be in love with him. That makes this next part so much harder.

“I know. I know, but it made sense to me at the time. I can’t- I can’t rationalize anything that I did at that time in my life. None of it makes sense, but I made a lot of choices that I regret and I can’t go back on them now. It’s too late for that and I’m- I’m so sorry for everything I put you through, Jihoon. All of it; everything, god, I’m so sorry.” You spill, and the soft burn in the back of your throat makes it hard to speak as you try not to cry. “You didn’t deserve to deal with any of it.” You whisper softly.

“Y/N,” Jihoon whispers back, “I forgave you a long time ago. I just want closure.” Closure. Jihoon wants closure, meaning he wants to move on. The tears in his eyes shine brightly, though they don’t fall, but he’s crying nonetheless, and that makes you feel worse.

“I don’t deserve that though. I don’t deserve to be forgiven for just leaving you. Seungcheol still hasn’t forgiven me; why the hell would you?” You swallow hard, and that seems to break the dam as the first few tears slip down your cheeks.

“Seungcheol has his own issues. We never told him the full story, and maybe that’s why he’s still… iffy about the whole thing. But I forgive you. I just, I want to stop hiding from you. I don’t want to be worried about running into you somewhere and not knowing what to say. I still care about you, so much, and, god does it fucking kill me to still worry about you when you’ve never made an effort to reach out to me.” Jihoon’s always been blunt, so you should’ve expected this, but it makes you feel worse; guilty. “I would’ve answered your calls, in a heartbeat. You know I would’ve.” Jihoon blinks, and the first few tears fall down his face.

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to call you after so long. I spent six months in and out of the hospital, and after that I had to get back on my feet. By the time I even had time to think about calling you, it’d been a year, and to me that was too late.” You close your eyes and exhale deeply, fingers twitching.

Jihoon used to hold your hands when you were upset to stop them from twitching so much. He used to pull your head close to his chest and wipe your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He makes no effort to do so now. Jihoon can’t even look at you properly.

He’s focused on picking at the calluses on his palms. Some things never change.

“You- six months? Y/N, fuck, I had no idea. I knew it was bad but, shit, really?” Jihoon’s voice breaks fully, and all you can do is nod. “How many more times? How many times did you—?” He can’t finish his sentence. His throat closes up.

“Four.” Jihoon has nothing to say in reply. He can’t, not with the deep hurt that settles in his chest, so you elaborate. “I really just wanted to die. The media was on my ass for the first year and it was just bad. I spent the next year after that in a rehabilitation program to fix my relationship with food and it helped a lot. I found a good therapist and I’m still seeing her. It’s helped a lot. I’m- I’m clean.” You pick up your cup, hand shaking, and take a large drink to calm your nerves.

“I’m really glad that you’re healthy now. Really, god, that’s such a relief.” Jihoon’s tears are steady now. He wipes at them with his sleeve. You mutter a soft thank you.

Outside of the booth, the noise has been blocked out by your conversation, but you hear something peculiar. It’s Seungcheol, his voice is loud and booming. He’s angry.

“What the fuck are they doing here?! Seriously, why did you even invite them?” Both you and Jihoon look up at the same time to see Joshua and Mingyu trying to deescalate the situation. Seungkwan is yelling back, face red as he tries to block Seungcheol’s view of the booth you and Jihoon are sat in.

“No, I’ve fucking had it with all of you. Defending them for just fucking leaving Jihoon without a word. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you bring them here?” Seungcheol is drunk and looking for a confrontation with you, and that’s enough of a threat to have you and Jihoon standing as he tries to usher you out of the club without Seungcheol seeing.

“Fuck, you should probably go.” Jihoon pulls you close to him, shielding you from Seungcheol’s view. You nod, walking fast beside him as you push your way through the crowd.

“Yah! You, get the fuck back here!” Neither of you listen as you push your way out of the door. You make the mistake of looking behind you to see Joshua and Mingyu physically holding Seungcheol back. Wonwoo is there now too, standing in front of him to prevent him from walking.

The outside air is cold and bitter. You shiver as you pull out your phone to order a ride. You and Jihoon are completely silent. He’s standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat radiating off onto you.

“I’ll wait with you. How long?” He asks, voice shaky.

“Two minutes.” You only have two minutes left with Jihoon. It’s so finite, the time you’re spending with him. If only you had more time.

You’re not afforded that luxury as you shiver beside him. “Can I- is it okay if I—?” You nod, unsure of what he’s asking. It’s a yes either way. Jihoon pulls you into his arms in a tight, warm hug. His hands don’t find their way into your hair, or rub your back. He just holds you. It’s all he can do.

Both of you ignore the mutual swell of warmth in your chests. You’re still in love with him, you know that, and that’s why the car seems to show up in no time. Your phone chimes as the car pulls up in front of the club as you reluctantly start to separate yourselves.

There’s so much you didn’t get to talk about. You tell him so. “We, fuck, I had so much more to say. I had so much more to explain. You, god, you were the right person, Jihoon. Everything else was just so wrong.” You thought the weight would’ve been lifted off your chest, but it only hurts more. You close your eyes as you turn away.

“Y/N, fuck, don’t do this to me right now.” Jihoon whispers, eyes filling with tears once again.

“I’m sorry Jihoon. I love you. I’ll see you around.” You open the door to the car.

“I, yeah. Take care of yourself.” Jihoon can’t look at you, no way in hell can he look at you as you close the door and drive off. He stands still in the cold, watching as the car disappears from his sight. He leans against the wall, head falling back as the tears start pouring freely.

As he pushes the door to the club open, it hits him hard, fills his whole body as a bone deep love for you settles. And it hurts, god does it hurt. Seungcheol’s calmed down, but the snide remark that slips past his lip doesn’t even register in Jihoon’s brain. All Jihoon recognizes is his tone, and that’s enough.

“I’ll punch you right in your fucking mouth, Seungcheol, I swear to god. Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hardly ever makes threats, but when he does it has everyone going quiet. Seungcheol, Joshua and Mingyu stop in their tracks. There’s been enough drama for one night.

Jihoon grabs a new drink and chugs it, before he goes to grab his coat. He needs to get out of here before the sob building in his throat bursts.

You manage to keep your tears at bay until you enter your apartment. You find yourself in the bathroom, against the cold tile and the porcelain of the bathtub. You don’t do anything, just sit there and breathe as the tears flow freely.

It wasn’t supposed to end like that. You were supposed to have more time to reconcile with Jihoon. You and bathrooms have seen a lot of hurt. Most of your bad decisions are made in bathrooms. You don’t do anything, you just sit there for a few minutes as you cry.

Nothing happens the next night. Or the night after. A week after the release party, Jihoon still plagues your mind and that’s when you crack. Your old manager turned friend answers the phone.

“Hi. You okay?” Yena asks softly, voice ridden with sleep.

“Drive me to the hospital? I think I need stitches.” You laugh nervously. The adrenaline has worn off and all you feel is regret.

“Y/N.” She sighs, but it’s not disappointment. She’s seen a lot of things with you, and supported you through all of them. You’re the reason she quit being a manager and went back to university. You made her realize the idol life isn’t as glamorous as it seems, and you’ve formed a very solid friendship over the past five years. “You know they’re gonna keep you for a few days, right?”

“Yeah. I know. It was impulsive. Like, I’m fine now. I just couldn’t stop thinking.” You sigh.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be on the way. Cold water and pressure until I get there, yeah?” You laugh softly.

“Already on it.” The call disconnects soon after, and you look up at the mirror. Briefly, you imagine Jihoon standing behind you in a much different situation than the one you’re in now.

His thick arms are wrapped around your waist, head leaning against yours. He’s smiling in your vision. You smile softly in your reflection, though it’s strained. The blood on your hands pulls you out of it.

a/n: i wrote this when i was going through it. i’m fine now but i seriously can’t do angst like i used to so i might write a part two or something where they end up back together.

3:03 am | choi san

fluff. 600 words.

a/n ik milan fashion week is over but i started writing this when it was still a thing . I miss sannie

You weren’t really expecting to call San tonight – especially not at this time. It’s late for you, and you’re almost entirely sure he’s still at the Dolce and Gabbana event he’s in Italy for. 

But you can’t sleep. And it may or may not be related to the fact that he’s in Italy to begin with.

So you take a chance – as the phone rings, you try not to get your hopes up. If he doesn’t answer, you’ll just have to try a couple more melatonin gummies, or maybe a warm cup of tea, or maybe you’ll just doom scroll until you finally feel tired enough, but you have work tomorrow so any sleep would be better than nothing –

“Hello?” San’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you feel all the tension in your body disappear completely. A gentle comfort, and familiar sound. 

“Hey,” you respond, voice a little breathless. You feel silly, emotional at the sound of his voice alone. “You still at that event? I’m not interrupting, am I?”

You can practically see the way he shakes his head. “No, we just got back to the hotel,” he says. There’s a pause, then a slight ruffle of sheets on his end, and then he asks, “everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer, immediate. And it’s not entirely a lie… but you hope he leaves it be anyways. You change the subject quickly. “Saw the pictures you posted.”

San humors you, offering a soft laugh (you wish you could hear it in your room with you). “Did you like them?” 

You nod, but remember he can’t see you, then hum in agreement. Rolling over from your back to your side, you put your phone on top of the pillow next to you. “You look pretty,” you tell him, voice gentle.

He does. All sunkissed skin and beautiful fabrics, he looks like he belongs, a piece of him meant to be in the heart of Italy. He looks lovely in that all-white suit, tailored perfectly to his proportions, an air of elegance around him. But you think your favorite post so far is the one he made when he first arrived – your Sannie, casual and sleek, warm and sweet. Glowing in the streets of Milan.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” San asks suddenly. “It’s way late for you, baby.” 

San sounds so tender, and you wish he was here with you. Fingers interlocked with yours in the dark, safe in his hold, sound asleep. You want to run your hands through his hair and look into his eyes and kiss him. Want to hear his pretty voice without the buffer of a speaker on a phone.

“Can’t sleep,” you tell him honestly. You wrap yourself tighter in your blankets. “...I miss you, you know.”

You thought saying it out loud would help, but the longing you feel only pulls itself tighter, connected to both you and San. Taut and painful, like an exposed nerve, an almost physical ache. There’s quiet on the other end of the call, and you wonder if maybe it dropped –

“Oh, sweetheart,” San murmurs, his voice so warm. “I miss you more.”

You feel unravelled with care, heart pounding at his words despite being with him for so long now. It makes your face hot and you feel the well of tears in your eyes – you sniff and San laughs, but it’s only fond. “I’ll be home soon,” he says, “Okay? Just wait a little longer.”

A noise of agreement leaves you because you’re afraid if you speak it’ll all come rushing out, but you take a deep breath and try to remember the smell of his cologne and the different colors in his eyes. You swear you feel a ghost of a touch from his hands.

“‘Kay,” you eventually respond. The world is a little blurry around the edges of your eyesight, your limbs heavy. “I love you.”

San’s response is immediate, and you manage to catch it before you drift off completely; his voice reaches you from across the world as he says, “I love you too.”

Arch-nemesis . Gally (themazerunner)

There's a thin line between love and hate, especially when it concerns Gally.

A/N: I've re-watched the three Maze Runner movies and now I'm obsessed and getting back onto the TMR fantrain so bear with me and the future fics I've already got saved in my drafts TT 3 TT ------

You hate him with all your heart.

Truthfully, honestly. There isn’t anyone you hate more than this stupid asshole that thinks that he’s the centre of the earth.

You met him only when he’d been brought in by Lawrence and a few of his other guys, having been there just for a few weeks prior. Thinking that this might be your chance to make a new friend, you’d sidled over to him with a small smile as you asked for his name. That didn’t go as smoothly as you thought when he just grunted out his name in response and turned away from you like you were a pest instead.

But it isn’t just that. It’s the way he says your name in that really aggravating tone that grates at your nerves. It’s the way he always insists it’s your fault when you’re out on missions and come back with no updates. It’s the way he bullies you and calls you names whenever your paths cross and it makes you want to gouge his eyes out. It’s enough to say that you know Gally now and you know exactly what he’s made of. That, and the fact that you’d stay far away from him as you possibly could if that was an option.

“You’re loading it up wrong shank-face,” he’d tell you as you were re-filling your gun.

“Shut up Gally, I’m doing it properly.”

“Don’t come crying to me when the gun doesn’t work.”

“It’s none of your business if it doesn’t work.”

“It is my business if you’re gonna—“

“Right that’s enough,” your mentor and leader called Jared had to step in, like he did numerous times, to get you to cool off. You’d storm away in a fit of annoyance and irritation, hating how easily Gally got under your skin.

It’s been a few weeks since weird sightings of stray immunes have circulated the area and in reply to this, Lawrence had set you up for a mission with Gally to scout the outer walls of the Last City. That had only caused you to grumble about the unfairness of the situation.

“Why do I have to go?” Your eyes narrow at the familiar tall figure lingering in your peripheral. Gally is busy setting up his weapons as you try to plead your case, seemingly uncaring about your protests, “and with him of all people? We don’t work well together Lawrence—“

“Everyone else is taken or busy with other tasks. Meaning that only you two are free,” Lawrence cuts you off without a hint of sympathy, “so either you do as you’re told or you can leave Y/N. As simple as that.”

In the end you have no choice but to abide by his rules, strapping up your weapons and defenses before Gally calls out your name. You turn just in time to catch the water bottle he sends your way, yelping in the process.

“You’re looking a little distraught, shank-face,” he smirks at you from where he stands loading up the provisions, “scared of what you’ll find out there? If you ain’t good enough, just don’t come and waste people’s time.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion, ugly brows.”

“I’m just worried you might slow me down. I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”

“I didn’t ask for one, now will you shut up and stop talking?”

“I’m surprised these two haven’t killed each other off yet,” murmurs one of Lawrence’s men.

“Killed or kissed you mean,” Jared lets out a chuckle.

These words are enough to cause the others to look at him with shocked faces, “what do you mean?”

“Isn’t it clear?” Jared motions towards the two currently bickering, “bet that by tomorrow night these two will get together.”

“I bet they last a week before they kiss.” Another says.

“Oh come on, I’m betting two weeks. Gally isn’t that type of guy.”

“What about me?” Gally’s voice causes them all to shut up, looking at him with guilty smiles and with shakes of their heads.

“Nothing to worry about Maze boy,” Jared flicks him off with a wave of his hand, “now off you go, both of you. And I expect some good news when you return.”

“Of any kind,” someone adds quietly, to which they all cackle.

You’ve toured the city a million times before in search of any kind of entrances that might lead to the inside, where all of Wicked laid. So it’s nothing out of your depth to follow Gally around as you survey the area and scout for more sources of information.

In all honesty, touring with Gally isn’t that much different from anyone else. On the contrary, Gally’s determined nature conjoined with his natural physical ability to excel just renders him an even more ideal battle partner. Not that you’ll ever tell him that. It will surely come bite you in the ass later when you least expect it.

You’re almost at the perimeter when you notice something off about one of the citizens. It’s a little girl, her face contorted in a grimace as she holds her hands in front of her tummy. For a moment, she sways in the middle of the crowd and you’re about to dismiss it, when another figure stalks in and takes a swipe at her with a stick.

The girl yelps as the stick hits her knees, crumbling to the floor like a sack of bones.

Before you know it, you’re sprinting towards her, anger flaring through your chest as your hands steady themselves on the gun. You barely hear Gally’s voice as you stumble in front of the kid just in time to point your weapon at the older man.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hiss at him.

The man’s eyes widen. He takes a step back, “no no, get away from her, you don’t understand—“

“Understand what? That you were going to beat her to death?” You click your gun into place, “nice try old man, now tell me—“

“Get away from her!” He yells at you, “she’s not normal! She’s—“

And a growl erupts from behind you. You swivel around in panic, eyes going wide upon noticing for the first time the dark patch close to her eyes.

The Flare.

The girl twitches. A small sob falls from her mouth. Your heart jumps to your throat, stumbling back half a step as weird animalistic noises echo from her mouth.

And then, she pounces.

You yell out something— you’re not too sure what — and are about to knock her on the head as she throws herself at you—

A bullet explodes on the right side of her brain and she falls to the ground like a puppet.

You stare at her for a minute. One more.

Your gaze slowly trails up to see familiar booted feet.

“What were you even thinking?”

Gally’s voice is usually deep. But this time, even you can’t stand up to the anger simmering in his voice. It’s dark and holds some kind of laced savagery that makes your toes curl in apprehension.

He takes your silence as guilt before grabbing onto your arm and roughly pulling you out of the crowd. He doesn’t stop and for once you don’t fight him, still not over the shock of seeing that poor girl’s face, the crazed look in her eyes. You’re so deep in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’re at your truck until Gally practically throws you against its side.

Your back digs into the metal and you grunt at the impact, the ache stinging your spine. But before you can do anything else, huge palms come to a rest on either side of your head.

Gally leans into you, so close that you can feel the heat radiate off him in waves.

“What the fuck was that about?” He growls, voice dropping even lower.

Somehow, it causes a shiver to run up your spine. Not one of fear, something else. Something that makes your stomach squeeze into knots.

“I—“ for once, you don’t seem to have any words. Instead your head turns away from Gally’s eyes as you bite down onto your lower lip, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” He scoffs, laughs to himself before his gaze hardens once more, “sorry for what Y/N? For almost getting yourself killed? Are you insane?! She could’ve literally infected you and you—“

“I didn’t know she was infected.” You tried to protest.

That seems to aggravate him even more, “You didn’t even bother to check!” His nostrils flare.

“Well I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it if you turn into one of those Cranks you stupid slinthead! You need to be more responsible! I literally turn away for one minute and you’re—“

“Oh stop exaggerating Gally. I was trying to protect her—“

“Yeah and look how that ended!”

You snap, “why are you so pissed? It was an accident and I already said sorry!”

“It’s not just that Y/N!” He yells with such emotion that his face flushes red, “What if I wasn’t there? What would you have done then?!”

“Why the fuck do you care? You wanted me gone—“

Your words cut off in mid-conversation when his large hands suddenly cup your face before pulling you in to crash his lips against yours.

Your eyes widen, brain freezing, as butterflies erupt through your stomach.

Wow.

Is this what a kiss is?

And this is Gally, kissing you like he means it.

It's almost like time has stopped.

Heart pounding, your body slowly melts against his. You’re in a trance-like state, watching yourself crumble under his fingertips that he places right under your jaw, his other hand sliding down to your hip to pin you in place.

The kiss is surprisingly gentle yet firm. His mouth moves slowly, hesitantly, almost like he fears breaking you. And yet, when you respond with a soft movement of your own, the rumble of his chest has your stomach squeezing with adrenaline.

You’re not too sure what’s happening. Here you are, with the world’s biggest dick, kissing him like he’s your lover when all you’ve ever wanted was to kick him in the face for being a class A asshole.

But it’s weird because this, however, feels so right. Like you’re meant to be locking lips, like he doesn’t want anyone else in his arms but you. And when he cages you in his hold with even more intensity it makes you gasp, causing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with an ease that has you parting like melted butter.

Slowly, your hands trail up to his chest, grabbing hold of his dark tunic and tugging slightly as his teeth suckle onto your bottom lip. A noise echoes from the back of your throat and he growls in response, pressing you even harder so that your head tilts back against the truck’s surface.

You need air at some point and so break away from him with a small gasp, chest heaving.

Gally doesn’t hesitate. He dives down to press a kiss to the side of your jaw, down your neck, imprinting his mouth over your skin over and over again in a way that has your body shuddering with delight. Big hand sliding down to the back of your neck to pull you even closer into him, the young man’s lips find a soft spot at your pulse point, causing a whine to fall from your lips at his action.

His chest rumbles in satisfaction and before you know it he’s back to kissing you. This time it’s more heated; mouths clashing and teeth clicking and tongues battling.

And then, the reality of the situation hits you straight in the face.

You freeze. What in the shucking world are you even doing?

You’re making out with Gally, right beside your truck. In broad daylight.

The thought alone makes your hands push him away and your lips disconnect with a small ‘pop’ sound.

You’re gasping for breath at this point, eyes wide as they flutter up to lock onto his own and you’re surprised at what you find there.

There’s some sort of softness, genuine care and something more, something darker that you can’t really put your finger on.

It makes you want him.

You want him.

Shuck’s sake.

“Y/N—“ Gally starts but you’re already moving out of his hold, slipping away from his warmth and suddenly it feels a little too cold.

You shake your head at him, decide it’s best to keep your eyes away as you open the door to the passenger seat, “let’s go. We have a mission to finish.”

You don’t want to talk about it.

————

It’s been days.

Days since the incident.

Days since you’ve been trying to get Gally out of your head.

You don’t understand why he’s having such an effect on you. Theoretically speaking, you should’ve bashed his head in and turned him over to Lawrence for sexual assault.

But you haven’t, and he’s also probably questioning why.

As a result, you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him. You wake up thirty minutes earlier to eat your breakfast so that you don’t have to bump into him at the table, you take the first errands that come to you — the boring ones like refilling tanks and getting the food supplies and guarding their premises. All that so that you don’t have to deal with Gally’s bullying.

Well, not that you’ve heard from him much either.

“What happened between you two?” Jared asks one evening as you help him move the supplies fresh from the last raid from the Last City.

“What?” You stare at him blankly, “what are you talking about?”

“You and Gally. You had a fight or something?”

“When are we not?” You snort, though you can’t deny the flush creeping up your neck as the memory of Gally’s body against yours resurfaces.

“Well I know you fight, but you’ve been ignoring each other.”

“And? Why is that a concern? Shouldn’t you be glad there’s less noise?”

“You’ve got a point I suppose.”

You don’t tell him it’s because you’re nervous of all the things that keep flashing through your head. You don’t tell him about how you keep on thinking of Gally’s mouth on yours, the lingering taste of him like a ghost along your lips. You don’t have to and you don’t want to, because you know that it’s going to entertain an idea far too surreal and ridiculous for you to think about.

It isn’t until a few days after your little mishap that Gally finds you in the storage room. You’ve woken up early to help the newest recruit unpack the food supplies just loaded into the main building dock, only to find out that he had this massive crush on you.

So you’ve been trying to bat him off all morning despite his most desperate attempts.

“Just give me a chance Y/N,” he says as he takes a box from your hands with a wink, “I promise I won’t make you regret it.”

You snort, “no thanks,” and turn back to keep unloading.

But he makes a grab for your hand. You yelp, pulling it out of his grasp, “what do you think you’re doing—“

“You think you’re so tough huh?” He makes another grab for your forearm this time and cages you into his grip. You try to wriggle out to no avail, his fingers squeezing so hard that you let out a cry of pain, “ow—“let me go, asshole.”

“Not until you agree.”

Your glare deepens, “I said no.”

He pulls you closer, stinky breath washing over your face and making you want to barf, “did I tell you how sexy you are when you try to act all tough and shit? I mean that’s literally—“

“Get your hands off her.”

He freezes. You do too. You recognize that voice. You could've recognized that anywhere. Your head tilts over.

Gally.

Oh.

Eyes widening at the sight, you quickly pull your arm away when the newbie drops it in shock.

“Move away,” Gally’s voice drops an octave and causes a string of butterflies to erupt through your chest, “now.”

The newbie frowns, “Who’re you to boss me around?”

“I said: Now.”

And maybe it’s the fact that Gally seems to straighten when he says it so it looks like he’s towering over the other boy, but the latter mutters a curse word under his breath and finally relents, throwing you a scowl in the process as he ducks out of the storage room.

You can’t help but lock eyes with your savior, though quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment as you resume stacking boxes after boxes. You hope that he’s just going to turn around and act ignorant, just like these past few days.

“Y/N.”

You don’t answer, resolutely trying your best to act busy.

“Y/N.”

Maybe it’s the way he says your name that makes you turn impulsively. Your eyes flit to his face, then look back down to his chest. A safer bet, “what?”

He takes a step closer, and another, and another. You swallow thickly, feeling your throat clog up with emotion as you stumble back against the boxes until no escape seems available.

Why is it that you’re always getting trapped by him?

“W—What is it?” You stammer out in hopes he can’t hear how wild your heart is beating, "What do you want?"

He lets out a soft sigh and seems to drop his shoulders in defeat, opening up his palms in a sign of defeat, "I just--I think we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Y/N--"

"No Gally," you whip around then with eyes narrowed into slits and your fists curled beside you, "if this is about what happened in the Last City, I don't want to talk about it. It was a stupid shucking mistake and--"

"Stop using Glader slang," he interrupts like a smart-ass and you all but growl at him in irritation, "it doesn't suit you."

"Oh shut up already," you whip around and decide that it's useless to try and have a civil conversation. You'd rather focus your energy on finishing off your task.

But seems that he's determined to bug you, for you feel the warmth of his hand imprint itself on your forearm before he's tugging you. Not too harshly, gently enough that you could've stopped if you wanted to.

You let yourself turn around, cursing inwardly at how the closeness between your two bodies is rendering you a little breathless, a little weak in the knees. He's so close that you have to tilt your head up to look at him, and what you see in his gaze makes your heart skitter.

"It wasn't," he murmurs, "a mistake."

"It was a mistake," you shoot back straightaway, "we can just forget about it--"

"I don't want to. I--" he clears his throat, looks away for a second. And when his eyes find yours once again you feel your breath catch in your throat because he's looking at you in a certain way. That way. With the same kind of tenderness that makes you want to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest and smell the earthly, Gally scent that had wrapped around you back when you'd kissed--

No.

You almost smack yourself, horrified. What in the world are you thinking?!

"I like you, Y/N." Gally’s voice jerks you back to reality, “I like you a shuck lot and—“

“Don’t,” you press a finger to his lips as you try desperately to put some distance between, shaking your head in horror, “no no, you don’t like me. You like me ‘cause I’m the only girl around here and it’s just your hormones talking—“

He shakes you off, “what are you on about?” He frowns before grabbing both your hands to cage them in his grip, “I know what I feel Y/N. Don’t tell me otherwise—“

“Gally please,” you scramble for coherent thought but logic is slipping away by the second. Even more so when he’s tugging you gently to him, even more when his face is a picture of softness and affection, “we hate each other’s guts—“

“I never said that.” He pauses to read your expression, fear suddenly flickering in his expression, “do you hate me?”

“I—“ the words get tangled in your mouth. You want to tell him you hate him, loathe him with all your heart and that you just want him gone and that you hates his kiss.

But you can’t.

Because it’s a lie, the truth is that you think your heart beats for him. You’re not sure since when, but that kiss had confirmed it surely enough: you like Gally more than you think you do. And that thought is terrifying.

You’re so close to him that if you let your hands drop they’ll brush against his chest, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your skin and the heat of his jody permeating to yours.

Ducking your head in embarrassment, you bite down onto your lower lip.

“Answer my question, Y/N.”

You swallow thickly, “I—I don’t know.”

Gally looks down at you still, not giving you the easy way out you would’ve preferred and you find yourself crumbling under his stare.

“No,” you whisper, “I don’t hate you.”

He shifts a little closer still, eyes flitting down to your lips in a silent question.

Your breath catches. Your mouth parts. His scent wraps around you like a soft cocoon.

And then you’re lifting yourself up to kiss him.

He makes a noise of surprise at the back of his throat and you grin to yourself, loving that you caught him off guard. But that doesn’t last, for his big hands quickly drop yours to wrap around your waist before pulling your body to his and kissing you like he hasn’t seen you in ages, like he’s missed you, like he wants to do this forever.

Gally, you soon realize, kisses with his entire intention, not leaving one part of your mouth untouched and adamant on making you go pliant in his hold. You allow yourself to back up as he prods you, until your back hits one of the storage boxes hazardly stacked one atop the other, and Gally doesn't hesitate to press his chest against yours as a soft moan echoes from the back of his throat.

As his lips curve against yours in the most intimate of manners, your hands seem to take on a life of their own as they travel up his chest, caress the broadness of his shoulders, before wrapping around the back of his neck and teasing the soft baby hairs found there. You feel him grinning into your mouth and soon enough you're grinning too, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath.

"Not bad at all," Gally murmurs, stealing a kiss from you and causing your face to flush deep red, "for someone who can't load a gun properly."

"I can too load my gun properly," you pinch him playfully and he responds with laughter.

That's when you hear your mentor's voice booming with surprise from the front entrance of the storage room:

"Well look what we have here! I told you guys they wouldn't last a week!"

Return

Gally x f!reader

Summary: (Y/N) was alone the longest of time. Forgetting how a home or love feelt like, until a temperamental glader saved her and gave her a place to belong.

Words: 11.4k

Warnings: loneliness, suicidal thoughts, drinking, gunshots/wounds, trust issues, panic attacks, violence, kind of hurt/comfort

Authors note: My apostrophe stopped working through this. Please dont come at me. I already spend too much time on this. XD

The sun was just setting when a young woman walked into the club. The walls were crumbling down. All the beautiful wallpaper that once adorned the house was gone, leaving only cold stone behind. A few parts were sprayed full of graffiti. It showed obscurities and perverseness. Everything only to get by in a heartless world. The women walked in, carefully, scanning the room and nodding to a few familiar faces but never talking. Her first way was up to the bar, getting countless strong drinks to down her sorrow in. She sat there watching the people sway around her until she also felt her world taking down the framework around it, so it could move freely. Her legs automatically found their way to the dance floor, because she had been here too many nights already. Trying to forget the outside world. She memorized every wall and corridor. The little cracks everyone only looked at when they had one too many while they tried not to puke. She had mastered the art of avoiding the disappointment that lay outside waiting for her to come again at sunrise and swallow her whole.

The woman was (Y/N) (L/N) formerly property of WCKED, now all alone.

She danced until her legs hurt and her eyes were too tired to stay open any longer. Most people had already filled out hours ago, leaving her with the usual companions and her solitude until she also decided to leave. Not looking at the few remaining guests that were laying on the floor unconscious or sleeping. The nodding to the few that were still standing was reserved for the beginning of the evening. So nobody would dare try coming up to her.

When she opened the thick wooden door, where splinters were coming off and the color had already fainted, she left the darkness behind and stepped out into the light. A new day had come but for (Y/N) the roles were reserved. The light was mocking her, holding up a mirror she couldnt look into because all the sunshine had vanished. At least the club was dark, indulging her fantasy that the whole world was dark and that it wasnt only her mistake.

(Y/N) started her way down the sandy alleys, where rubble was laying next to other humans. It was true that not only her world was filled with darkness. It just had different shades. When a drunk guy was singing old lullabies with his friends, it didnt seem so dark to her. Only a filthy grey. But if (Y/N) looked too closely she would see that the old lady who, a few weeks ago, gave spare food to strangers who couldnt afford it, was now laying on the floor trying to gnaw her own leg off to stop the virus, the world got a whole lot darker.

(Y/N) closed her eyes for a moment to feel the warmth that was radiating down on her that would get almost unbearable in a few hours. When she opened them again three guards with greyish pants and a bulletproofed vest came towards her. It was not unusual to see some people patrolling the streets but these guys were sent from wicked. The helmet they wore was too expensive and protective to belong to anyone else than the remaining citizens from the last city. They were coming for her. Wicked had found her again. Immediately she turned around, trying to escape the other way but also from that side guards were circling in on her.

Her world was still turning, her feet stumbling over each other while her breathing became labored. She needed to focus, get control over herself. A hand touched her arm, yanking her forward so that she fell to the ground. The guards were around her, pointing their large weapons at her defenseless body. They were coming for blood.

When she finally stood straight a shot was heard and one of her legs gave out while a sharp pain pierced through her thigh.

"Kill me." (Y/N) breathed out.

"KILL ME! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Followed her scream. If wicked was to take her final moments then everybody would hear it. She would fight till the end, even though she had already given up. There was no way she would give wicked the satisfaction to do this quietly.

"Or are you afraid?" A deranged laugh split her throat as she looked at the guards that still hadn`t pulled the trigger.

"Big bad wicked afraid of a little girl?" Her smile showed her teeth as if she was warning the guards not to come near a hungry wolf. (Y/N) slowly stood up, her (e/c) eyes never leaving the guards in front of her and registering every movement. The woman was playing a dangerous game.

"Stay on the ground!" A booming voice filtered through the helmet. (Y/N) tsked but obeyed, pressing her hands onto her gunshot to stop the bleeding. Her eyes found the ground, closing, preparing for her final breath while thinking of all the people she loved and lost. A rain of shots was heard but no one pierced her skin. Loud thuds followed accompanied by dull footsteps. Slowly her head lifted again and her lashes flew open only to be met with the most trusting green eyes she had ever seen.

"Youre safe now." He spoke quietly. (Y/N) nodded dumbly, all air knocked out of her. The man gently took her hands from her wound to inspect it and she just let him have it. In the background, different voices made their way through the ringing in her ears. "They should take on guys on their level." "They can never just leave us alone." Her eyes flitted over the ground, looking at the guards that only seconds ago were threatening to kill her, were now laying dead on the same mud they always spitted on. A hand gently laid on her cheek pushing her face straight again, to look at the boy that had rescued her. "Dont look at them. Keep your eyes on me." She did. He gently put a band-aid over her bloody leg.

"The bullet is not in your leg anymore, but the wound still needs to get cleaned properly. You can come with us. We can treat you at our hideout." The man stood again, his serious eyes observing the alley they had found her in.

"Where they coming for you?" It was an obvious question and a loaded one at that. He asked if they came for her specifically or if it was just a coincidence. (Y/N) only nodded, avoiding eye contact, instead fidgeting with the sleeves of her jumper.

"I understand. Im Gally. Im sure we will find a place for you." A smile grazed his lips that she could only return.

He abruptly turned around and put (Y/N)s arm gently around his shoulder while bringing his own around her upper body to steady her. The other guards had been going down the little alley to search for other intruders but returned quickly to the van that was standing just a few feet away from the massacre. Gally placed her gently on the end of their car, leaving her to find her own way into a comfortable position while the other man climbed in behind her.

"You want to adopt her?" Another guard asked, taking off his mask and showing his gray hair and serious face. Wrinkles adorned every part of it, and his cheeks looked a bit hollow.

"She needs our help," Gally whispered, hoping that the girl he barely knew, didnt hear their conversation. It was deadly silent for a moment. Both men starring each other down before the older one of the two relaxed his stance. "If we take her, she is your responsibility." "Yes, Sir," Gally replied seriously.

"Im Jack. I`m one of the crew leaders to observe the patrols around the city. Who are you?" The gray-haired man asked, lifting his eyebrows which only added more to his natural wrinkles. (Y/N) was silent, only turning her hands to find more blood on the backside. "Why is Wicked after you?" He didnt sound threatening. His voice carried understanding and compassion while his eyes held a conflict. He needed to know but he didnt want to prod. (Y/N)s eyes slowly lifted, acknowledging the man but never moving a muscle to speak. Instead, her eyes flitted over to Gally, who was already looking at her, trying to find something she would never show. Jack huffed in exasperation but let the topic go. Leaning back in the tight space and clutching his gun whereas Gally watched her for the whole ride with a serious expression.

The car drive was silent. All the guards had taken off their helmets, so slow breathing could be heard from everyone. But (Y/N) didnt lift her head to look at them. Her eyes were intensely focused on her hands which were smeared with dirt and blood. Not just her own but also the blood that was rushing out of the lifeless bodies to pool around her feet.

Only shortly after they arrived at a large warehouse. The doors to the van opened just to reveal more people in the same attire, running around and chatting. In here non of them wore their helmets. Feeling safe with the comrades they fought alongside who had probably saved their life more than once.

The crew that had rescued (Y/N) filtered out of the car to walk slowly in the same direction. Gally was the last to step out of the vehicle. Jack found his eyes and nodded towards the women they had found while stretching out a hand for Gally to hand him his weapon before he turned around and left them alone.

"I will bring you up to the medics first and then we will find you a room." The blond man explained quickly while helping her up to her feet. Together they hopped up a flight of stairs and put her on a bed that looked the cleanest out of all of them.

A tall, lanky woman stepped in. Brushing her unruly red hair out of her face and pushing her glasses up on her pointy nose.

"Someone new?" Her voice sounded cheery even though she looked like she hadnt slept for days. Caring for the wounded, praying that they wouldnt die.

"Yes, found her in front of a club. Wicked shot her." Gally explained monotonously.

The woman peeled (Y/N)s trouser leg away to have a better look at the wound.

"No worries, dear. The old grouch can stay." A laugh bubbled out of her throat that made (Y/N) untense her shoulders and relax a bit but never letting Gallys hand go through the whole procedure.

"It looks pretty good. The bullet is not in your leg anymore so I will just clean your wound and close it with some stitches. You had some luck, dear." The woman laughed while carefully treating her wound. "Whats your name?" Silence stretched through the room, curling up on another bed and making itself comfortable to stay.

"Well, Im Robin. The whole lot calls me Rob though. Are you planning on staying with us?" No words left (Y/N)s mouth but instead nodded her head slowly.

"I see. Youre not one to talk? I can talk for both of us." Robin smiled truthfully and already opened her mouth to continue until her eyes fell on Gally still standing in the room and eyeing the two women curiously. (Y/N) could see the intention in Rob's eyes, before she could even form a word (Y/N)s hand found its way to Gally`s, making her intentions clear. The doctor's gaze snapped immediately over to their intertwined fingers and a smirk danced its way onto her lips.

The blond man gently put his hand around (Y/N)s upper body while she laid her arm over his shoulders to stabilize. Together they limped out of the room and down a long corridor to the sleeping quarters. They all had little numbers messily scribbled on them or were customized with graffiti. Gally explained that it made it easier for greenies to find their room. A strange word. Greenie. A small smile tucket at her lips hearing it.

"Okay, all done. You need to keep the wound clean for 48 hours. After that, you have to wash it twice a day. Come by tomorrow morning and I will show you how to bandage your leg." Robin smiled at (Y/N), her head moving over to Gally to nod at him.

"Take her away. She is all yours. Give her a nice room and keep her safe from all the animals out there." Gallys deadpanned expression morphed into one of confusion. One of his eyebrows arched up, whereas his mouth stayed in a thin line. Robin turned with a little giggle around and left the room. Finding a new victim she could terrorize.

"This one is mine. The one next to it is free so it would be easiest for you to stay there or do you want to keep looking?" (Y/N) shook her hand and took a symbolic step forward with one of her legs, waiting for Gally to follow and get her into her new home.

Gally placed her softly onto her bed, the mattress dipping under her weight and the bedframe squeaked pathetically.

"Are you okay?" A nod and then silence followed. The man shuffled awkwardly on his feet, wanting to say something but hesitating. His mouth opened a few times but only hot air emerged.

"I will leave you alone now." He settled on, in the end. Gally turned around, ready to leave but not taking a step because (Y/N)`s hand wormed her way back into his, tugging him back, asking silently for him to stay.

He turned around and looked into her eyes. Memories were flashing him then that would stay a mystery to him but he could see her pain. Desperately wanting to have someone. So he just settled on the floor in front of her and let their interlinked hands hang between them.

The day was already going towards its end when the woman decided to speak her first words.

"Can I trust them?" Such a simple question got Gally to waver. Squeezing their hands on impulse as if to tell them everything would be alright.

"Of course, you can trust me." A shy smile grew on her face, looking directly into his eyes while answering.

"Ohh silly, I know I can trust you. What about the other guards?"

"They saved me. They gave me a life and something to fight for. I trust them with my life." Her smile never fell but a glow was added to her eyes. Tiny so nobody would have noticed but Gally had studied her the entire day and it was as if a bit of life went back to her.

"So, I will do the same."

Weeks went by and the everyday life started again. (Y/N)s wound had healed completely and Gally went daily out for patrol but always returned. They had found their own little routine. Gally just came back from his evening patrol, opening the door to his room and taking off his heavy clothing with an exhausted sigh. Life out in the streets was hard. Everyone tried to survive. They stole, fought, and killed. Betraying the community they once had. Forgetting that their real enemy had built walls so high they could never climb them. It was brutal and the peace they tried to bring and reunite all the people that got forgotten never seemed to be enough. A shy knock was heard on his door.

"Come in!" He said while pulling his shirt over his head. A small smile grazed (Y/N)s lips when they stepped foot into the room, holding two bowls filled to the brim with vegetable soup.

"I made a recipe from my mom today." The bowls were put gently onto the table that was standing in the room with two chairs accompanying it. Gally took his seat opposite her and thanked her.

"How was she?" Curious eyes looked up to him, while (Y/N) blew the soup on her spoon before eating it.

"My mom?" A nod followed, staring down at his own soup.

"She had the best recipes. She made the most delicious dishes from cheap ingredients." A chuckle left her lips. Soup forgotten at her side whereas Gally's was almost completely gone.

"She always sang these old songs while cooking. Swaying her hips until my dad joined her for a quick dance. They looked so happy together." A wistful smile played on their lips, eyes unfocused while remembering everything she had with them.

"She thought up stories and told them to me before bringing me to bed."

"She sounds like a good mother." (Y/N)s eyes snapped back to the blond boy in front of her. Crashing back into a reality she couldnt escape.

"Im sorry." Gallys frown deepened, pushing his empty bowl away from him to lean back in his chair and cross his arms.

"Its okay. I dont know my parents so I dont miss them. Wicked gave me a different family." It should spark happiness that he had found what so many were still searching for but his eyes were dark with sadness. Guilt spread in his veins like venom and paralyzed him every move. It was a lie that he didnt care. Maybe he didn`t care for his parents but he definitely for the family that he had lost.

(Y/N) was standing in the kitchen preparing supper for Gally. His favorite food was sizzling on the stove. An easy curry with rice. The meal had been done for a while but no noise from the vans driving back in was heard yet and no other hungry man had found its way into the kitchen. Instead, the hideout was awfully quiet. It appeared as if (Y/N) was on her own. Ghost's from another time chasing around her. With a gnawing feeling in her stomach, she took the extra portion she had prepared to bring it over to the medical room where Robin had been hauled up all day. The older woman regularly forgot to eat during the day, which led to her fainting in the middle of the corridor. Since that day (Y/N) had made it her job to provide food for half the guards in the building and paid extra attention to Robs eating patterns. She had a plate loaded to the brim in her hands, carefully watching her steps so nothing would spill and tumble to the floor. When she appeared in the open doorway, Rob is entranced in a paper laying in front of her, hurriedly scribbling notes on the notebook beside her.

(Y/N) gently knocked on the doorframe so as to not startled her. The doctor's hurried gaze flitted upwards, catching her smile and returning it with relief.

"Thank goodness its you." She breathed relieved, leaning back in her chair while (Y/N) placed her food in front of her.

"Who else should it be?"

"I thought they had returned from the attack and would swarm my office now." The woman lazily gestured, before digging into the hot meal in front of her.

"Attack?"

"Darling, have you not heard it? There were rumors that another gang was making trouble. All most all of the guards went out to keep the other citizens safe." Robin didn`t realize the effect her words had on the woman in front of her. Just enjoying her meal and trusting everyone would make it back safe.

Loss was nothing new. Everyone had lost someone or something. Their family, their friends, their home, their city. But some people had lost more than others. Their hope, their faith, their trust, and their sanity.

"Tha… That's why Gally isnt back yet." (Y/N)'s eyes found the floor, her world swaying, turning, and twisting to throw her off her balance. Her breath became short and rigid. Hand gripping the doorframe tightly to remain standing, while a piercing ring stayed in her ear. She couldnt remember it. She couldnt remember his laugh, how his hand felt. She couldnt remember the color of his eyes. She couldnt remember him. There was just darkness. The pictures she desperately tried to save in her mind were already trying to flee. Burning away to ashes she couldnt grasp. How would she live like that? With the distant memory of the happy life, she could have had before everything fell apart again.

He would fall, die, tumble to the ground like leaves the only difference would be that there would be nothing poetic about it.

He would fall and she would fall with him. At a different time and a different place with a different feeling but they would end up at the same place. Laying together as if it was their destiny that their fates got entangled.

"(Y/N)! Darling!" A loud voice came muffled towards her still ringing ears. Her eyes focused on a woman with red hair. She remembered her. Robin. She remembered his laugh and the wrinkles around his eyes. His favorite food and the places he felt safest. She remembered everything but still felt her life glide through her hands, shattering on the cold concrete floor.

"You`re okay," Rob stated, (Y/N) wasnt sure if she said it to convince herself or the girl that was still violently shivering on the floor. "He will come back. I promise." A promise she had no control over. The (H/C) haired woman scoffed, scratching her hands. Her body imagined a place to hide where the pain couldnt find her. Numb it the only way she knew how with a bottle of vodka in her hands and the desire to forget in her head. Instead, she nodded. Letting Robin take her hands and place her in one of the beds to sit in silence together.

"Look at me!" The woman gripping her shoulders orders.

"Breath. Do you feel my heartbeat? Breathe with it." Her tone softened, calming down with every intake of air. (Y/N)s bright red head was returning back to a healthier color. She could feel the sweat trickling down her nape and the tears on her cheeks. (Y/N) became overly aware of everything touching her body. The clothes on her body scratched and itched while the hands on her arms burned through her skin.

She mustered the younger one a bit longer before returning to the food that was still standing on her table, only half eaten. No one dared say a word. The air filled with tension that was created from the outside and would only break when Gally returned. (Y/N) looked out of the window onto the sandy streets where people crawled around like insects hoping to not get crushed by the world. She was listening intently for noises. Be it a gunshot or tires screeching on asphalt, anything to predict the outcome she didnt want to know. But the first thing she heard was a motor rumbling and people yelling even though she couldnt understand their words. Her head whipped around and her feet slipped onto the ground. Sprinting out of the room to see for herself. She arrived at the parking space, seeing everyone helping to bring the equipment back. Her eyes nervously scanned the crowd, rushing through the mass of people to find the usual blond-haired boy.

She didnt leave Gallys side for the remainder of the evening, pressing into his side. When nighttime came around the thought of leaving terrified her. Her bed seemed too empty and lonely. No one would chase her nightmares away that were sure to come. But Gally sensed her distress. Never leaving his side and touching him when the situation would allow it.

"(Y/N)." A soft voice spoke behind her, getting her to whirl around and crash into a broad chest that she engulfed greedily with tears spilling once more over her face.

"You`re back." The hiccuped, letting Gally press them closer together so she could hear his heartbeat.

"I will always return."

They settled in and got comfortable. (Y/N)s hand immediately finding his when he got in beside her. They faced each other, staring into their eyes and hoping to find answers to questions they wouldnt dare ask.

"Do you want to sleep here tonight?" Gally asked with a husky voice, pulling his blanket back and gesturing towards the other side. Huge eyes found his, scared and desperate. A small nod was the only answer he got, reminding him of their first days together when talking seemed to be too much for her. Overwhelmed by her emotions.

"I was also at wicked." Gally raised an eyebrow. Confusion and curiosity settled on his features.

"They tested if I was immune. I wasnt so they didnt send me into the maze but all the other children. Th…They hurt them. Put them through horrible tests and I couldnt do anything. I was so helpless. When they didnt need me anymore they send me out into a world I didnt know. I lost everything all over again." Gally scooted closer, engulfing her in his strong arms and feeling her breath against his neck. "I tried to save them and get them out but... I failed. I couldnt save a single one. That`s why wicked was after me."

"Thank you." He took a small break, a calming breath leaving his mouth. "For trying."

Gally was sitting at the edge of the roof, feet dangling in the air while he stared straight ahead. His hands held onto a white stone with a smooth surface where a sun was carved into. Reminding him of his promise to never give up and keep going. He didnt know who he had promised. Didnt know who he belonged to and what feelings to associate with it but it is the only memory wicked let him keep. Or it was just the only one that was too strong for them to take. The stone had been in his pocket since the day he arrived at the glade. His only personal item besides the clothes on his body. It was his and he kept it safe. Promising every evening that he would see the sun the next day.

Light tapping of feet was heard behind him, closing in on his figure. Someone else placed themselves next to him, their feet finding their space next to his not afraid of falling. (Y/N).

"You like this place." She stated bluntly. Keeping her eyes facing forward onto the huge gray wall illuminating the landscape. The difference was significant. The outer parts of the city where they lived were in ruins. The flare spreads uncontrollably, leaving people to die of poverty and sickness. Whereas the wall hid the rich and lucky. Mocking them with their cage of metal. The last city was majestic in Gally`s eyes. The buildings were so high and bright that they seemed to grow bigger the more often he looked at them. This wall reminded him of everything he was fighting for.

"They took everything." Silence made its way between them. Motionlessly listening to the sounds that the wind could not carry over the barrier. Wishing they could listen to something but the screams of agony coming from the streets below them.

"Yes, it always reminds me of my goal." The wind picked up, flying through their hair and moving their clothing in rhythm.

"They took a lot from you, didnt they?"

"In the Glade. At first, everyone was afraid of me but Alby. He gave me a chance so that I could show what I can do. I started building with the other few boys we had back then. The fear shifted to respect. I didnt realise it back then but they became my family. Until Thomas came. He scared me so much. His whole recklessness. It felt like he wanted to take my family from me." He laughed dryly, his hands still holding motionlessly onto his lucky charm, never wiping away the tears escaping his eyes.

"Now look at me. I was the one who destroyed my family. If I would have just made different decisions. Maybe Chuck would still be alive and we would be together." His voice never wavered. Glad to finally speak the truth that had taken countless nights of sleep from him. The shame was thrumming in his veins never stopping to flow. His head cast downwards, tears falling onto his dark trousers, not able to taint them.

(Y/N) breathed slowly. Her eyes watchfully examined the desert that lay before her.

"It hurts." Her gaze swept over to Gally. "I know. I wont give you the same empty phrases. It hurts to lose what you just wanted to protect. But for all the boys that died in the Glade, Wicked set them up for it. The selfish desire of rich people did that to you." She took a breath, trying to compose herself. "You shouldnt blame yourself. It`s not your fault."

Her hand gently lifted, wiping the tears away that Gally had stubbornly ignored. Her hand lingers on his cheek, stroking over the freckles gracing his face. When he finally turns his head, looking at the girl that was smiling sadly up at him he surged forward. His right hand met the asphalt to keep them steady where as his other one held her face gently. His chapped lips found hers just for a delicate second. Retracing quickly only for her to chase after him, holding him close.

Their days didnt get easier. Life kept on going dragging them with, but it finally felt like they had a purpose. Something to live for that wasnt hate or revenge. They lived for their future, for love. They lived for each other. Realizing that no one would fight their battles besides themselves.

"You`re okay, Rob. Lets move to the bed." The redhead clung desperately at (Y/N). Her legs barely worked and gave out again when the gunshots rang through the hideout. "Lay down. Relax for a bit. I will find out whats going on." She squeezed her hand gently, pulling a blanket over the shivering woman before rushing out of the room and down the corridor to find out what was happening.

Their routine didnt change much. Gally went out for patrol every day. Getting better and earning the trust of the other soldiers so that his rank increased. Directing small groups of guards through the city like the leader he was. It was a sunny day. (Y/N) was helping Rob in the infirmary. Moving the injured and bringing the medications the other woman had brewed. Until she heard loud gunshots ringing. Robin was on the ground in seconds. Holding her hands tightly over her ears and shaking violently.

She found Jack, the guard from the day they had saved her, in the radio room. Turning around immediately when he heard someone enter.

"I want backup down at the garage!" He hollered while marching straight in that direction the woman hot on his heels. "Stay behind me. I cant let anything happen to you, darling." He smiled genuinely before pulling down his helmet and gripping his gun tightly when he heard the screeching of tires. The first van arrived and the guards swarmed a dark-haired male, a blond boy, and a woman with short hair. They stayed at a reasonable distance but pointed their guns directly at their faces. The second van wasnt as peaceful. Grunting and screaming could already be heard when they just drove in. When the doors open a soldier and a man fall out of the van who was punching him violently. Immediately the three teenagers swarmed around them. The girl spoke calming words that got the foreign man to let go.

"Whats happening?" (Y/N) was a little out of breath, gripping the doorframe tightly while her eyes zeroed in on the gray-haired man. "The shots came from the wall. There is a mass panic down in the ruins. But Gally and the others are okay. They reached out via funk. They are on their way with a few extra men. So stay back until I deem it safe." His voice was professional, filling the tension in the room with orders and making his way already outside before (Y/N) could answer.

"Where all on the same side here!" Gallys loud voice broke the tension, bringing all eyes to him.

"What do you mean same side? Who the hell are you?" Gally hesitated for a moment before pulling down his mask.

"Hey, Greenie." The new arrivals looked at him shocked. Eyes wide, mouth trying to form words that just wouldnt come. The first to react was the dark-haired man. He leaped at Gally and punched him straight in the face which made them both fall over. Jack was immediately at their side ready to pull the stranger off but before he could the blond one spoke up. Soothing words reached his companion so that he let go of Gally.

"I can help with that. Follow me." Gally turned around ready to lead the group deeper into the hideout. Angry and disapproving looks were exchanged between the man that had attacked Gally and the blonde one.

"H...How is this possible? We watched you die" "No, you left me to die, and if we hadnt found you when we did. You would be dead right now." Jack untensed his stance, lowering his weapon a bit but still ready to kill if anyone made a wrong move.

"What are you doing here?" Gally continued.

"Minho. Wicked has him here. Were looking for a way in."

(Y/N) sprang out from behind Jack, pushing her way forward through the other guards only to stand in front of Gally and examine his face. Her hand was reaching out but centimeters before touching she backed away.

"Are you hurt?" Her eyebrows drew together in concern, looking behind Gally to see the others had stopped walking as well and were watching them intensely.

Lawrence was an intimidating man. He didnt give up without getting something in return. The deformed man was always out for profit. He was greedy and (Y/N) was sure if he had the luck to stay at Wickeds side on the other side of the walls, he always tried to tear down, he would have forgotten about all the poor people as well. Putting his greedy hands against a clean window to watch the people, he was now protecting, burn.

"I`m fine." (Y/N) mustered him for a few seconds. MInho was a familiar name. Gally had talked about him repeatedly. They seemed to have been some kind of friends in the maze but the people he had thought his family had left him behind to die.

"Dont be reckless. You dont have to save everyone." Both of them knew how dangerous it was to get into the last city. Few had tried and non of them had survived. It was a suicide mission and Gally knew it.

"I need to save him." He whispered, his eyes desperately searching hers for an ounce of understanding. But before he could find it, her eyes drop to the floor and her head shakes in disappointment. He carefully reaches for her hand and squeezes it softly. Reassuring her that he would not leave her alone in this life. She was not meant to see all the horrors of life by herself.

"I will return. I promise." Their hands fall lifeless between them. Gally rushes past her to show the Gladers the way to Lawrence, their doom.

When the conference was over. Gally, Newt, and Thomas got ready to scout out their way to the last city. Leaving Brenda, Jorge, and Frypan for leverage behind. Brenda was finding a seat next to (Y/N) in what appeared to be the kitchen space. The wooden chair creaked under her weight but the mysterious woman never lifted her chin.

Gally spoke for the group of newcomers. The dark-haired man, named Thomas, offered up his blood to heal the sick man temporarily. While they discussed some details about their deal (Y/N) stood in the background watching the group of strangers.

They didnt pay her any mind besides the girl. She felt (Y/N)s presence in her back, staring intently at them. Determining if they were a threat. Her eyes flickered over every person when someone shifted but stayed longer on Thomas. She looked at him as if he was the pest. waltzing in to destroy her dream. It was clear she didnt trust him or any of them.

The night dragged on. (Y/N) feared it would be bright again before they returned. Making it harder for them to slip from shadow to shadow and disappear into the darkness. They could get noticed by Wicked without them even making it near their friend. But abruptly the door flew open and the three stood healthy and safe in front of them.

"Do you think it will work?" They didnt look at each other. It was obvious they were talking about the idea of freeing their friend from Wicked. Ignoring every sign that told them to stop, to turn around and run, because if they took one more step they would fall into the depths of hell and couldnt crawl their way out like the last times. "Its reckless and stupid." (Y/N) retorts, hoping Gally would still hear her disapprove even though they were already picking up their bags. Her eyes tried to scorch the skin that was on his spine while he was busy leaving the room, to break into a city with enormous high-security measures. After they were out of earshot (Y/N) picked up her voice again.

"But they will not stop until he is out. Gally is their best bet." She turned her head towards the brunette, smiling sadly up at her.

(Y/N) sprang up, to wrap her arms around Gally and feel his muscles tightening around her while his heart beat against his chest.

Everyone found their place around a large table. Silence filled the air. The three men were just staring down at the table whereas the others were mustering them curiously. Frypan was the first to fill the empty void.

"Well, did you find a way in?" Thomas glanced nervously at Gally, shifting on his feet uncomfortably but never speaking up. Gally sighed exhausted. The bags under his eyes were prominent for having been out all day.

"Its Teresa." (Y/N)s head lifted. She knew that name. Memories of a dark-haired girl flashed through her mind that could not be older than her but had already lost her heart. Everyone was afraid of the flare. The disease creeping into your bones, stripping you naked of all they had been before. But what terrified (Y/N) the most was the empty eyes of people who had lost too much. Their heart was emptied out. Feelings thrown in a cage that nobody could open. She had seen that in Teresa when they were barely children. Teresa never had a consciousness. Selling her friends out to get what she needed. She was a vicious beast in disguise.

"No, there has got to be another way." His voice was rigid. He was pacing back and forth. Ready to carve his way inside if he could leave the girl that had betrayed them more than once out of harm's way.

"Like what? Youve seen the building, she is our only way in." A bit of anger seeped into his voice at Thomas stubbornness to discard his plan. "Do you really think she would just help us?" Frypan spoke up from his side of the table, gesturing lazily at the blueprints in from of the group. "I dont plan on asking her for permission." Gally chuckled lightly. (Y/N) would have expected them to look surprised or mildly uncomfortable but no one batted an eye at the statement of the soldier.

A beat of silence rang through the room. Tension seeping in and creating a fog no one wanted to walk through.

"Am I missing something here? This is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? Same dick?"

"I like her," Gally stated, letting (Y/N) and him agree on at least one thing that night.

A gasp left Brenda when Newt pressed Thomas against the fall, screaming at him. Saying without needing to even utter the words that he had failed Minho because they had trusted the girl he loved. (Y/N)s hand immediately found Gallys. Seeking warmth and comfort from the only person that would not skin them alive if they had the chance.

"What? Are you afraid your little girlfriend is going to get hurt? Hmm? This has obviously never been about just rescuing Minho." The blond's eyes were blown wide, his fingers tightly balled to fists while his nails dug into the flesh of his hands. The tension in everyone's body seemed to rise. Holding them all in a choke hold, not allowing them to breathe.

"What are you talking about, Newt?"

"Teresa!" Newt screamed at him. Leaping off his seat, that fell with a loud thud to the ground. He charged across the room, forcing Gally to shift unconsciously in front of (Y/N) to block Newt's view of her. Being a protective wall between them.

"I mean, shes the only reason why Minho went missing in the first place. Now we finally have an opportunity to get him back and what?"

"You dont want to because of her? Because deep down you still care about her, dont you?" Newt spat in his face, body shaking heavenly while panting, trying to get air into his exhausted lungs. "Just admit it." The boy sounded defeated. As if he had lost all purpose and hope for following Thomas, just repeating the same actions if the man was never able to sacrifice something.

"I`m sorry." He turned around. His head faced the ground before rushing off and leaving everyone flabbergasted.

"Newt." Thomas breathed out. His eyes stayed on Newts with a shocked expression. Searching for the source of the angry display. "Dont lie to me!" He screamed. Shoving Thomas once more roughly against the wall, making (Y/N) flinch.

"Dont lie to me." Came it dangerously low, threatening the boy with these simple words. His posture suddenly changes. Regret flashed through his eyes when he slowly lets go of Thomas.

"Im sorry." He whispers towards the boy he had just attacked with eyes that were unseeing. It was as if he had forgotten himself and someone else possessed him for the last few moments, so he could remember but couldn't control.

No one of the remaining people dared to move. They were staring at each other or after Newt. Gally only loosens his grip on (Y/N)s hand after Newt had been gone for a few minutes.

"I will talk to him." Thomas was the first to talk and rush after his friend. Everyone else stayed as if they had been turned to stone. Not talking just existing and hanging in their own thoughts, They didnt look at the blueprint but were just staring into space to find a purpose to keep going, to keep fighting, because this had felt more disastrous than anyone was prepared for.

"I will join your mission."

"Absolutely not." Gally turned abruptly, staring into (Y/N)s determined eyes. The battle was fought silently, not one of them breaking eye contact before Brenda spoke up. "I could use help with the kids." Gallys angry gaze swept over to her, ready to set her aflame while the woman in front of him smirked. Knowing he could not leave her behind.

(Y/N) put a giant pot in front of the Gladers. Having cooked for them so they would all be healthy and prepared for the days to come. They filled up their plates and started eating silently. Thomas and Gally were wrapping up the last details of their plan after Thomas had decided he would use Teresa to get their friend back and bring Newt back home safely and healthy.

They waited till the next evening. Letting everyone rest until they would start with their plan. (Y/N) was laying in Gallys arms. Following the lines on his hands and breathing deeply into their proximity.

"Sooo, you and Gally?" Brenda started, picking innocently at her food, only looking up at the corner of her eye. (Y/N)s cheeks flushed in rosy pink. It didnt go unnoticed by the other girl but she waited patiently for confirmation, so she nodded quickly.

"W…what? Gally? Tall, tough guy Gally? Always a scowl on his face Gally?" Frypan squeaked next to her. His cutlery limply hanging in his hands, food forgotten over the conversation they were having.

"So he was a softie all along," Newt smirked. Only stopping shortly his meal before continuing. Brenda didn`t even bat an eye at the stiff girl in front of her, just silently enjoying the information she got on the stoic glader boy.

"I need you to be safe." She whispers.

"Right back at you." (Y/N) scoffed.

"Im not as reckless as you." Gally chuckled lowly, burying his head into her nape. She smiled wistfully. Knowing she finally had what she always wanted. Her mind was at peace before she fell asleep.

The next day was hectic. They were trying to get everything in order before they would go to the city and had to fight on their own. Lawrence has offered to help. If Gally gave them a way in and placed an electrical device near the power box, they would hack into Wicked`s system to put a record over the cameras and let them walk through the building almost unseen. When the world became dark around them, the three boys once again climbed through the manhole cover to get into the last city and leaving the rest to wait.

When they came back a woman stumbled in front of them. Dirty sack covering her face to keep the way to the hideout anonymous. Newt placed her harshly on a chair, ripping off the sack to give a face to a disheveled Teresa. Her eyes moved around the room, scanning the faces of her kidnappers.

"Gally?" Teresa panted loudly, her eyes focusing on the believed dead glader, who sighed heavily.

"Here is how this is gonna go: where gonna ask you a few questions and you will tell us exactly what we need to know. We'll start off simple. Where is Minho?" Gally leaned against the table. His face not showing the emotion that was brewing inside of him. All the anger, sadness, and fear locked behind an expression no one was able to read. He pushed himself to a standing position. Grabbing a chair and slowly walking towards her.

"You guys don't seriously think…" Teresa's eyes were trying to outrun Gally. Moving around to find kinder eyes, fixating on Thomas when they made eye contact. Gally dropped the chair harshly in front of her, sitting down. His eyes bore holes in her skull. Intimidating her to get what they need.

"Don't look at him. Why are you looking at him? Look at me. He's not gonna help you." A heavy silence filled the room. The air was stuck in Teresa's lungs, too scared to crawl up her throat, out into the world to face the angry man in front of her.

"Well, I don't know. We don't necessarily need her, right?" Gally stands up and spins his chair back to the table. "Not all of her." He grabs a knife from the table, pointing it threateningly at her. "We just need her finger." No smile was playing around his lips to show he enjoyed the theater. Because for him she was once one of them. They had the same fate. (Y/N)s eyes suspiciously shifted over to Gally. Her eyes left Teresa for the first time since she had walked into the room. She knew how much pain she had put all of them through. She could see it in their gestures and the words that were tied back behind a tongue. Sewn up to the tops of their mouth and staying with them forever.

"Now we know you have Minho in the building. Where?"

"He is with the others in holding. Sublevel 3."

"How many others?" Newt spoke up from behind Gally. His posture was just as unreadable as the other ones. The kind smile that Teresa appreciated on her first days in the glade, was chased away by shadows.

"28."

Brenda turned to them. A small smile played at her lips before speaking: "I can make that work."

"No, no you guys don't understand. The whole level is restricted. You can't get in without a thumbprint ID." The tied-up woman scrambled to say. Trying to keep her friends safe but also all the progress they had made.

"That's why you are gonna come with us." The man she loved spoke up for the first time. No empathy or recognition showing through his stone-cold face. She had lost him. Had lost them all. For the hope of letting strangers survive. Would she change her decision if she could?

"Gally, back off," Thomas spoke up. Letting the love he held for Teresa shine through.

"You getting squeamish? I can guarantee you she has done a lot worse to Minho."

"That's not the plan. Back off." Thomas stood up, taking Gally's knife from him without the other resisting.

"Won't make a difference. Do whatever you want to me. You still won't get through the front door. The sensors will pick you up."

"We know, we're tagged. Property of wicked. You're gonna help us with that too." Thomas walked slowly over to her, holding the scalpel towards her. She nodded, silently complying and letting Gally untie her. She takes the scalpel with shaking hands, not looking up until she hears steps rushing towards her. Recognition flashed through her eyes when she saw the woman in front of her. So different but no doubt one of the girls wicked had tested. She was older. Her eyes were hard and her lips downturned. What had happened to you, little bird?

"Ill go first."

Thomas and Newt went with Teresa, whereas Gally and (Y/N) joined them through the underground garage. Making it look casual instead of closely planned. They took the staircase to get to the upper levels to meet fewer people while the cameras are still working. On the ground floor was the electrical box Gally had to open and station the hacking device in that Lawrence gave them. It was a risky plan, sawing the electrical box open in the middle of the stairs. (Y/N) obsessively checked every corner multiple times, clutching her gun between her hands. Fearing someone would come up and shoot them without them even getting near Minho. But Gally did quick and efficient work, having placed the device only a few minutes after them arriving on the floor.

After all of them got their tags out, Gally brought Teresa into another room. Locking her in it without furniture and windows. Preventing almost every option for her to escape or kill herself, while the others got ready. Everyone loaded their weapons, strapped knives onto their body, and Gally, Newt, Thomas, and (Y/N) disguised themselves as guards. She was checking her gun again. When Gally spoke up:

„Stay close to me.“ It was a scared order. Is eyes were trained on the belt, hands trying to tighten it but being unable to move properly. He huffed exasperated when he didn`t hit the hole again. (Y/N) stepped forward, taking his hands in hers, so that he had to acknowledge her. His soft eyes found hers and no words were spoken. She smiled softly, squeezing his hands to reassure him that she would be safe before Gally stepped away and set the plan into motion.

The whole level looked sterilised. No kids were living in these walls but prisoners. Milked until every last drop of them would benefit another human instead of them. They could die if it meant keeping the wealthy alive.

“Let's go.” Gally nods towards the staircase, pulling down his helmet to keep up his appearance while they rushed upstairs to Sublevel 3.

Newt and Thomas opened the heavy metal doors that kept the children from freedom. (Y/N) stayed at the entrance, looking out the doorway to alarm them when new guards were arriving. Promising to keep the children safe that have already given more than they should have.

They stormed the room the children were stationed at. Shooting the guards working for Wicked that were meant to protect the precious serum. It was immoral. Housing them in small cages where they could barely stand. For Wicked, they were objects meant to be exploited.

Part of a conversation trickled into (Y/N)s ear, limiting her concentration for a moment.

"Someone moved him up to the medical wing. Thomas, that's on the other side of the building." Teresa spoke hastily.

"Okay, take me to him. Right now."

"Let me come with you." Newt sounded worn out. Getting tired of wearing heavy clothes and running around a huge building. The disease was clearly getting to him. Painting his face in an ashy gray. He looked like he had already died, only stubbornness keeping him alive.

"No Newt, you're not. You stay here with Gally." Thomas replied. Worry laced his voice while he already moved towards the door.

"You can't do this on your own. Minho comes first, remember?" The fragile boy grabs his arm. His grip was not strong but reminded the other how strong they could be together. Maybe they couldnt win but at least they could fight. Their lives were intertwined and if separated would not be as promising.

"I will stay here with Gally." (Y/N) spoke up from the doorway, lifting the burden of a decision off Thomas's shoulders. Newt nodded at her thankfully, rushing past her to save his friend.

Creakingly the massive steal door opened, Gally rushed in and filled a little bag with glasses full of blue liquid. When the blond steps out and the door falls slowly close behind him an alarm starts going off. Red lights on the walls started flashing, signaling them to find their way outside.

As the others rush off, leaving the couple alone, the children start to mutter over each other. Their faces tense with their mouth half open as if a scream wanted to crawl out of their mouth and they fought it with desperation. (Y/N) turned around halfway, acknowledging the fear present in the room.

"It's okay. We're here to save you. But stay quiet please."

"Okay, we need to get outta here. Now. Stay close to me. Stick together.” Gally stepped forward, addressing the children with clear instructions they would be able to follow in the chaos that lay outside the door, waiting for them.

“You. You guard this with your life, you understand?" He gave a boy that was standing at the front of the group the serum. Before he takes off, leading Wicked`s property outside. (Y/N) stays back, making sure everyone left the room before covering the back of the group.

He took out his walkie-talkie, sending a quick message to their escort: "Brenda, where are you? We are here." Only a moment later a bus drove in front of them, showing a smiling Brenda who immediately opened the doors and helped get the children in, who eagerly scramble inside.

They reached the garage without many complications. Gally stopped abruptly letting the kids be covered by a connecting wall. His eyes roamed towards the other side of the huge parking space, breathing heavily from all the running.

"Stay low. Go go go." Gally lifted his hand, signaling the kids to run in front of him so he could watch the other people on the other side. When all of them are in front of him, he falls in step with (Y/N) and they run alongside each other until they reach a safer spot.

(Y/N) prayed he would find the others quickly and return to them. But her hopes were crushed when shortly after their departure guards appear close to them. In a hushed voice, Brenda tells the children to get down, hoping they will turn around and leave. Slowly they make their way toward the vehicle, guns raised. Brenda looks back at (Y/N), her eyebrows raised in a silent question. Every scenario was rushing through her head. The possibility to leave Gally behind to die was a heavy burden in her heart but she nodded. Her responsibility was bringing the scared children, clutching tightly onto each other, to freedom. Far away from Wicked so they would be safe.

"Where is Thomas?" Brenda asked puzzled, her eyes searching for her friend.

"I thought he was with you," Gally responded, sending the last child into the bus before focusing on the stubborn girl, who was already leaving the bus.

"Wait, wait. Stay here with the kids. Just wait. I'll find him."

“I will come with you.” (Y/N) decided but got a stern look from the man in front of her.

"Stay here. Wait with Brenda and guard the kids. I will come back I promise." His eyes are swimming with fear. Desperate to know that she will be safe until they arrive. His eyes pleaded with her to just give in. Which she did. Knowing they were only losing precious time, so she nodded, before stepping close to him.

"Stay safe." She gave him a quick kiss, hoping to show him that she needed him to return to her, before hopping on the bus as well. Gally pulls down his mask, clutching his gun before jogging back to the wicked compound.

Shortly after they left the wicked building behind, police cars appeared next to them. Chasing them through tight streets, with Brenda trying to shake them off. The bus swang to every side, aspiring to hit the police cars. Brenda turned into a different street, praying to finally get away, only to race towards a barrier, packed with cars and armed soldiers. Brenda reacted immediately, doing an emergency breaking that jolts all of them. They were panting heavily, hearts racing against each other while their bodies were still. No one moved afraid of breaking down.

"Sorry Thomas," Brenda muttered but it got drowned out by the starting motor.

“Hold tight, kids.” (Y/N) spoke loudly while Brenda pushed the gas pedal, making the guards in front of them scramble out of the way before they started driving through the city.

The trailer of the crane dropped in front of her. (Y/N) reached for it to secure it onto the front of the bus. Bullets flew next to her, trying to let at least someone suffer for all the damage they had caused, but the bullets just went past. Not even grazing her. As soon as (Y/N) is inside, the bus gets lifted into the air. Everyone getting pushed against their seat, while (Y/N) held onto one of the handrails in the front.

“Get out of the vehicle!” A voice bellowed.

"Give me the flashing light." Brenda shook her head vehemently. Clutching it tightly to her chest.

"Brenda, I have the bulletproof vest. Give it to me." Her grip faltered slowly. She never offered it up to the other woman but instead, she had to take it. (Y/N) held the light in a white-knuckled grip, stepping out of the bus without looking back at the immunes. She would leave them to Brenda.

"Step away from the vehicle. Put your hands in the air. Drop the weapon."

(Y/N) took slow steps until she was in front of the bus, raising her hands in the same fashion before smirking and firing the flashing light into the sky.

A red light engulfed the night sky, her eyes twinkled pleased. Finally, she was able to return what Wicked had done to her. A few years ago she was incapable of saving her friends. She failed, but she would make sure to give the children packed on the bus a chance for a new life.

When they reached the top height, Brenda whooped. Happy to finally be out of danger, only to get her hopes crushed by the loud creaking of the bumper. Frypan drops them fast outside the city, just stopping a few meters before they hit the ground. The bus falls forward with a loud crash, deafening the screams of the children. When they reached the ground safely, loud panting was heard throughout the vehicle until Brenda's loud voice broke the deadly silence.

A loud explosion is heard that shakes the ground. Everyone scrambles outside, seeing the last city burn with flames. (Y/N) imagined she could hear the screams. They wanted to save and know they helped to destroy. In this world, nothing would ever be without a cost. Without regret and doubt. They would always try to save only to see the world burn again.

"Okay everybody out."

They walk the last few meters over scorched land to the hideout but when they reach it nobody is there.

"Lawrence!" Brenda called out, hoping for a reply.

"Everyone is gone." (Y/N) spoke out the thought, nobody dared to. Her home was abandoned. All the people she had considered family left, without knowing if they would ever see each other again. She could imagine they were preparing for a war against Wicked. Without caring for all the lives they would take. Without caring that Gally was still in there.

"Just get the others. Get everybody out."

A cracking noise was heard from the walkie-talkie that sparks hope. Brenda answered immediately.

"Thomas, you there?"

"We're not gonna make it."

He sounded out of breath and out of hope. Screams and gunshots could be heard from the other side, making (Y/N)s eyes sting. Her heartbeat racing, trying to sprint towards the burning buildings itself. "What are you talking about?"

"No. I'm not leaving you. So forget it." (Y/N) could taste the sour panic in her mouth. She could not stand to watch, to listen. Her feet gave in, making her fall to the ground unceremoniously. She couldnt lose Gally. Not again. He was her life. She couldn't survive it for a second time. Her breath became rapid. All the memories of them together flashed through her mind. The future they wanted laying dead in a casket with cold hands and ash skin. She wouldnt survive it. A loud noise erupted next to her, bright lights she couldnt place making her eyes squint. Strong hands were on her, helping her up from the cold stone floor but she couldnt make out their voices, their faces. Everything was a blur until someone placed a hand over her heart.

“Youre safe. We`re all gonna be okay. We will get them out of there. Help is here.” Frypan spoke slowly toward them while (Y/N) lifted her head to look around. The scenery had shifted towards a metallic aircraft, flying them towards the high flames. Towards Gally. Relief painted over her face, letting her close her eyes before the airplane landed and she had to stand up again. The war was not won yet.

They waited anxiously. Brenda's eyes were glued onto the tunnels, the way the boys should come from. Whereas (Y/N) was pacing around, picking at the skin around her fingernails, while watching the flames climb higher and higher.

“We need the cure!” Minho panted. No air was left in his lungs for talking but Brenda didn`t need to reply. Racing towards the tunnels herself with the boys and (Y/N) closely behind. Gally and (Y/N) were the only ones left with guns, taking over to cover the others from attacks.

“There!” Frypan screamed, pointing at two running figures. (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Gally but her heart plummeted when she couldn`t spot Thomas and Newt anywhere.

The city was a mess. Cars were turned around, windows smashed and whole stores set aflame. Corpses were scattered around, while more were added to it.

(Y/N) drags herself behind the others. Her feet getting heavy and her brain hurting from all the screams and lights. A piercing pain ripped through her body. A scream ripped through the bright night sky while her hands clutched her abdomen. Getting stained with wet, red liquid. Her eyes were blown wide, looking forward to Gally who stood paralyzed a few feet in front of her, sprinting back to catch her before she hit the ground.

They took cover behind a car, (Y/N) shooting behind herself to get rid of a wicked guard that had been following them for quite a while. The others took off before the guard got hit by one of the bullets, leaving (Y/N) to fend for herself. The man falls shortly after. His eyes became lifeless while blood is trickling out of his wound.

They lay together on the ground, people moving around them but unseeing. His lips were moving, but she couldn`t make out his words. Her eyes slipped shut when she felt Gally encircle his arms around her.

The ocean was crashing. Whispering tails of heartbreak and love. Birds chirping above it, to add details. It smelled salty and clear like freedom and peace.

But her eyelids were heavy, refusing to open, while her body dragged her back down to darkness. It was war, fighting. A battle she couldn't lose.

She slipped in and out of dreamless sleep. Accompanying her until she felt ready to see the new world. The world they had created.

Slowly her eyes opened, registering the grey ceiling above her, it looked trist and old.

Wind swept through the open door, flying over her face, gently tickling her awake. Forcing her to move her head and acknowledge the blue paradise outside of her shed.

"Hey." A voice rasped beside her. Her eyes blinked blearily to focus on the man who had stayed at her side.

"Hey." Her voice was croaky and broken but it reached its destination. A tired smile played around his lips, while he took her hands.

"I missed you." Gally gave her a glass of water that was already prepared at her bedside table.

She nodded in gratefulness and tried sitting up, but a jolt went through her body, making her wince in pain. Hands automatically reached to her stomach.

"You got shot at the last city." He gently helped her to get her upper body straight. Positioning it gently on the pillows. Before bringing the glass towards her lips.

"Rob did everything she could. She saved you." His eyes were downcast. Avoiding her eyes.

"It's not your fault."

"But it is."

"There was nothing you could have done."

"I…I should have taken care of you. Looked out better."

"Gally, there is nothing you anyone could have done." (Y/N)'s eyes were truthful. Her face gentle with no regret etched onto it.

They sat in silence. Thinking about all the smoke and gunshots filling the air a few days ago, while the waves gently tried to wash away their sorrows.

"We're safe now. The boat got ready today. We will go to the safe haven this evening." Gally spoke up. His voice was a hopeful whisper. He that if he spoke of it their luck would run out and they couldn't reach paradise again.

A peaceful expression reached (Y/N)'s face. She let her eyelids fall shut again. A sigh that was trapped inside of her for years finally found the light of day.

"I will bring you to paradise. I promise." Gally cupped her face, breathing a kiss onto her forehead.

"You have said that before, you know? When we were children." (Y/N)'s expression never changed. Unconcerned about the secret she had just revealed.

"When we were Children?"

"Mhh, I already met you at the wicked camp." Her eyes opened abruptly, facing him again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier." She studied his expression but his face remained stoic not showing what he felt.

"I don't remember."

"That's okay. It was a long time ago." Her body relaxed at that.

"Is that why you trusted me when we picked you up at the ruins?" She nodded. Their memories fluttered through her brain chasing each other and creating their relationship.

"I fell in love with you again."

"I fell in love with you too."

Her eyes closed. Smiling warmly. Her mind felt at ease. The pain in her abdomen not hurting as badly as it did moments ago. Warmth spread through her body and she thought if dying felt like this she would enjoy it. Because it smelled like freedom and peace and love.

But she would open her eyes again, a few hours later on a boat in the middle of the ocean and they would already see their paradise.

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: Unrequited love; brothers’ best friend; mafia au; smut; angst; fluff

Warnings: relevant warnings will be posted on each part, there are some dark themes in this so please make sure to read them first, death, murder, poor mental health and internal thoughts, explicit sexual content in some but not all parts, slow burn.

GROWING PAINS

growing up is hard, growing up in a gang the only female where everyone looks down on you is harder.

Part 1 | 15.6k

IN THE WAKE OF YOUR LEAVE

six years since you’ve been here and this time you don’t plan on leaving, at least not until you’ve gotten what you want no matter what.

Part 1 | 16.2k 

Part 2 | 11.5k

Part 3 | 13.6k

Part 4 | 14.5k

ALL THAT REMAINS

you betrayed them all, acted on your own selfishness; will Jimin ever forgive you?

Part 1 | 7.4k

Part 2

— it's late

sirius black x reader ★ 1k words

"Hey." His hair is a tangled mess, the locks going in opposite directions. His face is covered in dirt and scratches. He wears more cuts under his battered clothes. He has a worn expression on his face. Sirius looks tired.

You sat up with a jolt, having almost fallen asleep. At your door stood Sirius Black. The two of you weren't super close, but you had been a part of the Order for a while now. Also having been close with Remus for several years helped Sirius trust you a little quicker than normal. That said, most of your conversations were less than sober ones after everyone came back from their respective missions.

"Sirius? What are you doing here?"

He let out a small sigh, resting his head against the doorframe. He's never been the type to ask people for help.

"Needed some help patchin' up."

He lifted up his shirt, slightly revealing a long, deep cut on his side. It wasn't bleeding too much anymore, but was definitely still painful. He winced a little as he moved, his expression taut.

"No offense, but is Remus not available?" you shift in your bed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

Sirius huffed out a breath through his nose, his jaw clenching. He didn't particularly want to bug Remus late at night either, but he hadn't been expecting you to refuse.

"Nah, he's sleeping. Sorry, I'll just go ask—"

"Hey- I'm sorry. I can do it. Here, sit down." you made space on your bed as you crouched down to get your kit from underneath.

A hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Despite your emerging friendship, he's always had a soft spot for your kindness. He pushed himself away from your door, reluctantly sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"You good at this kind of thing?" He questioned, his voice still coarse. He adjusted himself a little in his seat, pulling his shirt up halfway. Sirius watched intently as you rummaged through your kit, his eyes fixed on the way your nimble fingers quickly found your potions and gauze.

"I do happen to be a healer at St. Mungo's," the corners of your mouth quirked up, and small glimmer of confidence in your eyes as you began to clean the wounds. "So I'd like to think so."

"Shit, careful." He flinches slightly when you get to the deep cut on his side., his gaze shifting from your hands to your face, his eyes meeting yours.

"You're fine." you rolled your eyes playfully. "You're the one who should be careful if anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He huffed out with a slight smirk, watching you closely.

Sirius has always been fond of you, of course he has. Despite his intimidating exterior, he appreciated your gentle kindness whenever you both ran across each other. But of course, he'd never admit it. He winced slightly again when you pressed down a little harder on the cut on his side. "God, you tryin' to kill me doll?"

"It means you could be a little less reckless as when you're going on missions. Who's going to drink with me if you're dead?" you joked, wrapping the gauze gently around his wound.

He lets out a bark of a laugh, shaking his head lightly. He loved the way you didn't tiptoe around him everyone else did. Although the accusations of him being a spy for the Death Eaters eventually died, it was a breath of fresh air to be with someone who never treated him differently.

"Oi, I'm not gonna die. I'm too damn stubborn for that." He says in a teasing manner, enjoying the banter between the two of you. He continues to watch you as you finish wrapping the bandage around his torso, his eyes never leaving your face.

"You're right about that." you teased, lightly patting your work as you stand up. "Are you good to walk back to your room on your own or am I gonna have to find you a cane?"

Sirius chuckled at your comment, shaking his head. He slowly stood up from your bed, testing out how well he could move with the wrapped cut on his side. It still hurt, but he could ignore it.

"No, I'm good doll. Not too old to walk yet."

He smirked, his eyes meeting yours. There was something different in his gaze now. He looked at you with a hint of fondness. You wrung your hands together nervously, hoping that it was too dark for him to notice the growing blush on your face.

"Alright well, careful with your side. Goodnight Sirius."

He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours. He wanted to stay with you, to spend more time with your warm presence. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Can I ask you something real quick?"

"Yeah, what is it?" you asked, now sitting in bed once again.

Sirius took a deep breath, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He leaned against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets to look as nonchalant as possible. This wasn't easy for him.

"I... I was wondering if you'd want to join me on patrol with me tomorrow. Arthur's helping Molly out with the kids."

Your eyebrows stitched together, tilting your head to the side as you tried to remember. "Patrol? I don't recall seeing one scheduled for tomorrow."

"You're so right, there's not. I uh- I just wanted an excuse to spend some time with you," he ran a hand through his dark curls, letting out a dry laugh. "I'm not as good at this as I used to be, alright?"

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to hold back your grin, but your efforts were unsuccessful. "I suppose I could find some room in my very busy schedule."

His eyebrows shot up, a delighted smile growing on his face. "Yeah?"

The old floorboards creaked as you made your way to him. You nodded and leaned up to press a kiss to his stubbly cheek. "Go to sleep, Sirius."

"You're mental if you think I'm sleeping now, sweet girl."