Bittersweet | Jeon Wonwoo (masterlist)

New Rules

Title: New Rules

Genre: basketballplayer!mingyu, collegestudent!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, s2l, smut

Tags/Warnings: Cheating, heartbreak, gender neutral reader, slow burn, smut, creampie, unprotected :/, general arguments between the reader and some characters, alcohol drinking, hurt and comfort, 26k words

This is a part of a sports collaboration being hosted by @gyukult​ . Thank you so much for the opportunity to write this I seriously never would have come up with this idea and written this had it not been for this collab!

Summary:

Kim Mingyu is the star basketball player of your schools’ team, and one of the most popular boys in your entire University. You’re just a college student with the best boyfriend in the world.

-

You stared at the lake in front of you, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration. You felt the breeze blow through the trees, and you shivered a little despite the warm fall sun beating down on you.

You weren’t cold for long, after only a moment warm arms wrapped around your body, tugging you close. You smiled, a giggle leaving your lips.

Keep reading

how long will we fall

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 14k

glimpse: if it’s fate, it should already be set onto your skin — that’s why jungkook’s initials are already on your finger. he’s always there for you, but not only for you. if you’re his fate, he’d rather not have it.

alternatively, jungkook’s your soulmate, but he doesn’t want to be.

[ soulmate au, painful f2l, unrequited love (at first), a lot of angst, more fluff n wholesome moments, emotional constipation, yearning, jealousy, swearing, reverse cards that make u cheer, redemption arc, i swear to u that this does not hurt as much as heartburn did ]

notes: i'm back with a big fic!!! :D this was originally supposed to be named something else but i realized that the title was Too Serious and u know what,,, ten listens later as i write this, i realized that i'm obsessed with this song that i received from this ask and wow thank u so much anon <33 although the rec isn't originally for this fic, it fits perfectly and i can't thank u enough <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 :)

There will never be another Jeon Jungkook in this world — that much you're sure of.

You're sure of it because it feels as if it's a universal truth. An irrevocable and irreversible one that you don't bother verifying because Jungkook carries his presence with finality, obvious that he carries security within himself the most.

If he were to slip away from your grasp for any reason beneath or beyond you, you’d know that he leave a vacuum in his wake. Jungkook isn’t yours for you to lose, but he is yours for you to long for.

You know this because Jungkook is the type of beauty you won't ever grow used to despite spending years, with him and around him. You're both seniors in college and yet you don't feel like it, despite being born just a couple months earlier than him (therefore older) which irks him to this day. You don't feel like it because his presence alone makes you feel like you're in elementary figuring out your heart flutters from square one.

If he were to star in a show, he’d be the mainstay character everyone fawns over. He would be the one to stay in the biggest trailer, have the most doting team, and have the brightest lights on him. If Jungkook was a star, he’d rake in all the money by himself.

If Jungkook were to be yours, you’d never want for anything more.

“Are you seriously — don’t sleep on me!”

Jungkook’s voice is the first thing that snaps you out of your reverie, reminding you once again that you think of him even if he’s already in your presence, an endearingly-type of new low for you.

“I wasn’t sleeping on you,” you snort with a defensive cross of your arms across your chest, the prospect of rest making you yawn in suppression with your mouth closed, eyes tearing up and your nostrils flaring instead.

“Yeah but you were zoning out on me,” he sing-songs in faux irritation, twirling on his chair with an accusing point of his finger, “and that means I have two minutes left to talk to you before you fall asleep.”

The only reason you’re awake is because Jungkook practically begged to keep you up as emotional (and actual) support for the entirety of the assignments he’s been cramming.

You share a spacious dorm and yet the two of you are cooped up in his room because his mind would overload if he’s in someplace else, eyes surely gonna shake if he were to write essays on the coffee table in the living room or at the bar stool in the kitchen.

“What do you need me for now?”

Need.

It’s nice being needed.

It’s nice being needed that despite Jungkook’s initials on your ring finger that tied him to you as your soulmate, and his unawareness of it, Jungkook needs you.

The initials on one’s left ring finger develops over time. Some take mere years after their birth while others take decades. Starts off faint until they become clear red letters right on your vena amoris, inked on the skin above the vein that’s closest to your heart.

It gets fully-developed when it’s fully-realized. Having Jungkook’s bright and clear on your finger didn’t necessarily mean your initials reflect the same condition on his.

It was personal preference, really — whether or not you choose to cover up the soulmate mark or not. You’ve always chosen to cover your finger up with a ring because you didn’t want to freak your best friend ever since childhood that simply put, the two of you are soulmates.

Jungkook, just like you, chooses to wear a ring. In fact, he even wears the same one that you do because he argues that even if you’ve bought the silver signet ring first with the money you’ve saved up for years (it wasn’t cheap at all), he thought about it first.

That’s where the connection ends; only goes so far for the two of you to have matching rings to cover up your soulmate marks.

Jungkook, adamantly and stubbornly since the start, doesn’t like looking at his ring finger.

Even before there were faint outlines of ink, too vague for it to resemble your initials, eight-year old Jungkook would start having things around his particular digit, whether it’s a two-day old ring pop he leaves in the fridge or a piece of yarn that accidentally almost cuts off his blood circulation.

You remember Mrs. Jeon sheepishly explaining to curious onlookers whenever both of your families would go out for trips and that out of the two youngest members of their entourage, the handsome child with the wide eyes would have some sort of cover on his ring finger at an early age, be it an oven mitten or a headband scrunched up.

“I like not knowing who’s apparently meant for me.”

You’ve asked him multiple times throughout your life, all for Jungkook to be consistent and give you the same answer every time.

The same answer when you were kids as you repetitively flicked the tip of his ring finger with your eyes closed as instructed by him, in panic to make him feel something because he’s covered his mark with yet another ribbon too tightly, and in respect because even he himself didn’t want to see the ink.

The same answer when you were teenagers and you’re getting Christmas gifts together and Jungkook just looked too much like your ideal boyfriend with the way he’s lining up for you on the counter and is watching over all the items, pulling you closer every now and then when the prospect of losing you to the crowd gets higher with every rush.

The same answer now while you’re passing the time on his bed as he’s hunched over his desk, a harmless question included randomly into your series of sleep-induced curiosity; the question of why he doesn’t want to know about his soulmate, asked in the same breath of casualness to whether Jungkook preferred his rice better cooked with too much water or too less of it, or if he’d go home for the holidays with presents already prepared.

“Is that a kink?” you scrunch your nose at his unwavering consistency, knowing you would’ve liked it for any other situation besides this.

Jungkook breathily laughs, shrugging his shoulders carelessly as if the two of you are talking about the weather and he’s admitted that it’s been years since he’s last looked at a forecast willingly.

“I don’t wanna know, really. I still breathe without knowing who they are.”

The way he says it is easy, no underlying malice indicated in his tone at all. He says it in the way as if he’s been asked this a hundred times and his response is natural and well-lived, not once changing.

“I don’t believe in fate.”

Hurt doesn’t even explain half the pain in your chest all this time but in this light with the way you’re simply asking him why he doesn’t want a soulmate, why he doesn’t want you by extension — it’s only an ache.

It’s only an ache that pacifies on your bones instead of gnawing on them. It’s drawn-out yet dull, the pain not striking you enough to the point that you even hum at him to elaborate.

“Because what if I don’t end up loving them? What if the one I end up loving isn’t the one the universe apparently destined for me?” Jungkook goes on, lips in a slight pout. “Love doesn’t have initials.”

You sink further into his pillow, playing with your fingers yet retaining your gaze on him.

“You don’t have to love your soulmate.”

Read: you don’t have to love me.

Additionally: you don’t have to love me because having you in this platonic way atleast gives me the semblance that you love me even by a fraction, but if you love me in the same way I love you, it’d be nice.

“You say that now to make me believe in them,” he snorts, twirling a pen between his fingers with a genuinely curious gaze, “but what happens if you aren’t the one they want?”

You haven’t been doing anything and yet you still stop in your tracks, the question echoing in your mind as you repeat his query out loud.

“What happens if your soulmate doesn’t want you?”

What does happen?

You don’t die. You don’t puke flowers.

There’s no catch to it. There’s no grand consequence to having your soulmate not want you.

It makes you think once of your present situation and rethink twice of every decision you’ve ever made beforehand when your ring finger was still plain and devoid of his initials; when the only person you’ve made plans with and for isn’t just yourself, when it wasn’t him.

Jungkook doesn’t want you.

What’s supposed to happen to you?

“I need you to stop zoning out and help me make this essay!” he whines demandingly and it’s the last thing that pulls you out of your thoughts, sitting up straighter.

“If you start asking now, I can actually start helping you, y’know?”

Jungkook’s in STEM while you’re a literary major, the obvious exchange of help being convenient, yet the only difference is that when you make him answer your worksheets, you don’t wait until it’s three hours before the supposed deadline.

He’s giddy now that he’ll get to finish his last assignment due, eyes scanning back to the instructions because his attention span’s already been spent looking at his phone.

“What's love to you?"

You freeze at the abruptness but you move on just as quick as you were surprised, remembering that it’s just the guideline for an essay and not the turning point you’ve expected it to be for a split second.

“How do you want me to answer that?

You ask lightly, humorously even, as you stand up from his bed, running a hand through your hair and working the knots of out of your neck before you get to work.

“I want you to answer it in the sense that I have a paper about love due tomorrow. At 12:00 in the morning.”

“Why?” Jungkook giggles additionally, nudging you with a shit-eating grin and a playful glint on his eyes. “How would you have wanted to answer that?”

“Nothing else,” you smile faintly, scooting him to out of his seat and switch positions so he could sit on his bed while you type for him at his desk. “I’m answering it in the sense that you would be lost without me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

It’s only meant to be a tease but it hits home nonetheless. Maybe it’s because you’re in your soulmate’s room underneath his lights and you’re visible to him. Maybe it’s because your mark pulses just ever so slightly underneath your ring, irritated and itchy underneath the silver as much as you feel hurt.

“Lost without me in the sense that you’d fail your subject if I don’t help you with your essay now."

( ♡ )

Anyone who’d meet Jungkook for the first time is likely to think of three things.

He looks clean. Handsome in a way that he looks effortless even if he wears the same oversized black shirt every guy wears outside, enough to garner second glances for himself. He’s tidy in the facet that he looks like he takes care of himself but not vain, far from annoying prep kids he scoffs at.

Jungkook looks rich and is rich. His family doesn’t come from generational wealth and yet they thrive from their own holdings, learning early-on that they owned a cottage near the beach and rented it out as they moved next-door, and the next thing you know is that at present, they own multiple properties and ventured out into food business that make absolute bank.

He carries himself with the stature that he knows what he’s doing, back sometimes slouched but dignified nonetheless, the air of importance surrounding him. Jungkook was raised in comfort but he’s humble, that much you’d bet your whole life into believing. He was the type to have pocket money whenever he goes out but he spends it in the same way you do, calculating his expenses mentally as if the bills in his wallet wouldn’t pay for the video games he’d want and even have some change afterwards.

He’s aware in the sense that he doesn’t forget where he comes from, admitting to you numerous times that his family having much disposable income sometimes bothers him. Jungkook thinks there’s an itch behind his ear whenever his dad proposes to eat at a five-star restaurant for dinner; that there’s a guilty pout on his face when his mom takes the initiative to buy him new sets of clothes because his shirts look too lived-in, even if he knows to himself that his wardrobe needed a change.

He’s down-to-earth and it reminds you of the way he’d forego all of his Fisher-Price toys just to try and plead to you if he could borrow your hand-me-down stuffies from your older siblings. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon are nothing but humble in the same way that they raised their child, despite the fact that in rare times, they have the taste for the finer things in life.

Mrs. Jeon’s beyond generous during the holiday seasons and you recall her gifting your mother the expensive casserole you’d catch her looking at in adoration whenever both your families had dinners, customized to her favorite color and attached with a heartfelt letter from Jungkook’s mom. Mr. Jeon practically adores your dad and looks up to him like a younger brother would, always taking him to fishing trips just and buying two pairs of the same things so the two of them could match.

Jungkook was raised-well and if it’s even possible at this point, he gets much more endearing in your eyes.

“Why would I not walk you home? We live together, if you haven’t realized.”

He says it when he sees you in campus as he drops everything to walk you home, even if your shared apartment isn’t his destination for the time being. He goes out of his way to ensure that if you stay home while he goes about his plans, there should be food in the fridge and cupboards that you’d actually like. He’d lock the door and try to budge it open from outside, and once he’s assured enough that it remains secured, he’d go about his routine of texting you to call him if you need him.

“You can have mine. I’m full anyway.”

Jungkook says it whenever the two of you end up ordering new items from menus and you end up liking your dish, offering you his plate nonchalantly. He insists that it just tastes average for him, and if he sees you hesitating on stealing some from his portion, he’d go as far as telling you that it tastes horrible so you wouldn’t feel guilty.

“Look! My mom sent you these! I told her you liked them.”

He calls you over every time his family’s goodies for him for the month arrives at the mail, laying the package on the floor as he waits for you to unbox it with him because he knows just how much you like going through things and organizing them. Mrs. Jeon always made sure to include something specifically meant for you in Jungkook’s box — whether it’s the family-sized portion of your recent cravings or your favorite hair treatment in bulk.

“Hey, wanna go on a drive with me?”

He asks you whenever he sees you too absorbed and frustrated in your studies in conjunction with whatever work gig you have at the time, heart panging to see you struggling to take care of yourself because he knows you have the tendency to try and finish everything as fast and as good as you could, not stopping even at personal circumstances. He’d simply put your pair of house slippers on the floor for you to wear, pull you up by your armpits to urge you to come with him, and he’d just drive. Would go through a drive-thru and take off from there, not pressuring you to open up to him at whatever cost.

Jungkook can’t sense you in the same way you do, like a soulmate would, but he cares for you in the way that he can tell when you don’t feel like functioning at all and you’re shutting down; you’re shutting even him off and that’s when he knows that something’s bothering you to no end even if he can’t decipher what is it.

Whatever’s in his power, Jungkook sits next to you, lies on top of you, and does almost everything to invade your personal space whenever you shut down — just because he doesn’t want to give up on you like how you do with him.

If anyone were to meet Jungkook for the first time, they’d know he’s uniquely himself.

He cleans up extremely good as he wears a suit to the grand opening of his family’s café, a dream of his mother ever since she was a teenager that became fully-realized and he can’t be any more happier seeing his parents content.

He greets people left and right with genuine happiness to see all of them ecstatic and supportive, eagerly shaking their hands with a full smile on his face. He draws everyone in effortlessly as if he’s inertia itself, well-aware that it can’t only possibly be you that looks at him with this much reverence.

There’s a red string of pull and you feel it when Jungkook stumbles on his feet on his way to you, feeling your body being slightly tugged downwards but you pull yourself up just as quick, playing it off by pretending that there’s a speck of dirt on your shoes.

He’s been looking for you for the past five minutes because it’s his mother’s fault that she wanted two floors for their café and it’s packed immediately on opening, pointing at you eagerly as he weaves through people. “There you are!”

It’s not your first time meeting Jungkook but you feel the same three things each time, heart swelling in size in familiarity of the person who inhabits it the most.

Jungkook giddily laughs and takes his position beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and making conversation with your parents for the umpteenth time, your head instinctively bending to lean against him. He looks every bit the part of the person you love the most in this world, despite being unsure if you even deserve to in the first place. He looks every bit of the guy that makes you realize you can’t deal with having anyone else’s initials on your finger, the words slipping out of you naturally.

“You look like someone’s first love.”

( ♡ )

You’re flawed.

You’re flawed and you don’t need anyone to tell you so in order to give yourself a wake-up call.

You’re flawed in a way because you feel dumb being so lovestruck and devoted with little to no point of salvation. You pride yourself in not being selfish but you’d be lying if you say don’t once hope that Jungkook would look at you in the way that you do. Every now and then would you feel the urge to demand from him insistently every second of the day that he should love you. That he owes you atleast that for the years you’ve spent helplessly trying to put him first rather than your own sanity.

But it feels wrong. It is wrong.

Jungkook doesn’t owe you anything and you know that much.

He doesn’t owe you anything and you shouldn’t expect for him to pay attention to you even if you’re his designated driver for the night, celebrating the end of the stressful semester by unwinding at a club.

He doesn’t owe you an explanation when you see him not fending off the countless girls that go up to him and get their hands on whatever they could; doesn’t owe you an apology when you see him leaning down fondly to kiss someone who isn’t you — someone who isn’t his soulmate.

You would’ve been alone in your booth and the club in general (your soulmate’s out of the equation because he looks like he’s in a different realm entirely) if not for Hoseok, someone who’s perhaps your second best friend right after Jungkook.

It’s merely a coincidence that the both of you are here at the same time, him being the one to easily spot you as he weaves himself in your company seamlessly because he’s been meaning to escape all his frat brothers who annoy him more these days.

“I have something to say to you.”

Hoseok breaks into your worrisome silence, beckoning you over even if the two of you are sat right next to each other with your shoulders bumping.

“No. no. Come closer,” he insists and it makes you roll your eyes at what he could be playing at this time, indulging him by putting the side of your face right against his playfully.

Hoseok’s even more rational and realistic than you could be. In fact, he’s followed your gaze the entire night and he wonders how you haven’t grown tired. He knows about your helpless pining for your soulmate who doesn’t even want to know about you nor your existence, and all he can do is watch.

“You’re insane if you think this whole thing wouldn’t end up anything but extremely painful.”

His words are in a harsh whisper but it feels as if he’s yelled at you right to your ear, making you flinch away from his softly with a defeated pout on your face.

His words come out of nowhere but the rational part of you, the one that disappears whenever you’re vulnerable in this state longing after Jungkook, already knew that you’ve had this coming for a long time.

Hoseok doesn’t sugarcoat his words and it’s what you need almost all of the time. He’s harsh and unforgiving and it reminds you that you have a friend who isn’t Jungkook — someone who isn’t as gentle or kind; someone who grounds you rationally whenever you get too far up your head.

“Let me live, Hobi.”

“What you’re doing isn’t living, Y/N.”

He thinks for a second that he’s being too harsh but he realizes that maybe, just maybe, you need the truth no matter how cruel it could be. He figures that maybe you’d need someone to call you out instead of pitying you over what they could clearly see. “Tell me,” he murmurs, crossing his arms as he looks at you whose eyes are avoiding his gaze.

“Do you live for yourself first?” he nudges you by the shoulder, lightly tapping your ring with his finger. “Or do you live for Jungkook?”

Do you live for yourself first,

or do you live for Jungkook?

You’re dead silent and it’s the type that Hoseok doesn’t want to hear, mumbling to yourself before leaning to his neck to sniff whatever remnant he has on.

“God, what are you on?” you’re deflecting and you know it, cracking your knuckles at the process. “Let me have a hit of it.”

“I’m serious over here.”

Hoseok sees right through you and you feel like crying, recognizing the familiar solemn look on his face because like everyone else who has even the faintest idea of your situation, he pities you.

“And I’m telling you this as someone who cares for you,” he lightly swipes underneath your eyes that are welling up with tears before they even get to fall, effectively prying them out. “Let go of him while you still can.”

“How do I do that?”

You’re breathless in exhaustion but it’s not as if you’ve done anything physically strenuous to be in such a state. You haven’t done anything but it feels as if the wind is knocked out of your lungs and it doesn’t come back to you even if your sail blows.

“How do I do that if Jungkook asks me what do I want for dinner?” there’s trepidation underneath your tone and Hoseok recognizes it, the tremble in your fingers visible even if you have them clenched. “How do I do that if he holds my hand when we cross the street and shields me in crowds?”

“How do you expect me to do that when he calls my parents on weekends and tells them that he’ll always look out for me?”

You’re not scared of letting Jungkook know but rather, you’re scared of your inevitable fall. You’re not scared of the white hot pain you anticipate to feel when the moment finally comes that he says it straight to your face that he doesn’t love you; you’re scared of what happens to the two of you after and what’s left of it.

“How do you expect me to stop loving Jungkook when he acts like he loves me back?”

“He doesn’t.”

“And I know that.”

You’re flawed in the way that you’re self-aware. That you’re painfully mindful of your own emotions and multitudes. You hate that you’re as logical as you are emotional and for once, you just wish you didn’t know better.

You wish that you’re insensitive and reckless. You wish you were more cunning in the sense that you disregard Jungkook completely and stop at nothing to try and get him to look your way with a different gaze.

You wish that you’re anyone but yourself, someone who’s deserving of Jungkook.

“What do I do now, Hobi?” you lean into him because you can’t support yourself and he knows it, the weight of your heart being heavier than your head on his shoulder.

You’re flawed because you suppress a coo at the back of your throat when Jungkook stumbles over to your booth and immediately wraps his arms around you, drunken babbles leaving him as it’s a sign for you to take him home.

You’re flawed because you hear your soulmate speak as you bid goodbye to Hoseok for the night, only smiling when you hear his words. It’s a pain that doesn’t encompass you, rather, it’s a pain that’s hot enough to burn your flesh yet just warm enough to quell the pain in your bones.

“You're my best, best friend in every universe. Y’know that?” he hiccups, eyes completely glazed and rubbed raw as he looks at the side of your face while you haul him to your car. “I hope you know that.”

( ♡ )

Your door opens up before you even realize it.

Actually, Jungkook opens your door before he even realizes it.

He’s woken up in a rush with a single text from his dad that they’re coming over to visit and normally it wouldn’t bother him. Waking up abruptly in the morning isn’t a problem to him and so is making a game plan in cleaning everything up to make sure it’s spotless to his mother’s standards.

What is a problem is that when he entered the bathroom to brush his teeth without a shirt on, he sees the reflection of his hickeys from the night before glaring right at him.

However, what an even bigger problem than that is when he tries to wake you up by knocking on your door with the pleads of helping him cover his marks up, it automatically opens when he twists the knob.

“Y/N, no! Why’s your door unlocked?”

His eyes widen in panic and worry, wondering why it wasn’t even locked in the first place. Better yet, has it never been locked ever since? When he leaves you alone in the apartment, do you go out of your way to unlock the main door that he secures closed on the way out?

“And why aren’t you even moving out of bed when someone’s inside your room? What if it isn’t me? What if it’s someone else who did the exact things I did?”

Jungkook’s more worried than he is mad even if his tone’s jittery, hands on his hips as his mind makes up for the whole nine yards. Seriously, does he regard your safety more than you do with your own? Leaving your door open is beyond unsafe. Were you being more forgetful these days? Does he not look over you enough?

You’re oblivious to his panicked state as you burrow yourself deeper into your sheets, eyes remaining peacefully closed because it doesn’t surprise you anymore when he suddenly inserts his presence into your vicinity.

“But it’s you,” you sleepily mumble, half-coherent with the way you hug your pillow closer. “Aren’t you the one who kept knocking at my door?”

He scoffs because you do make a point even if he refuses to admit it, but it just ticks him in a way that you regard his concern for you so lightly. “That’s different and-…”

“And now you’ve opened it yourself and invited yourself into my room.”

“Yeah and that’s okay because it’s me!” he gestures out but he forgets that you’re not even looking at him, unaware of how he looks genuinely upset and worried at the moment. “But what if it was someone else, hm?”

“Like who, an intruder?” you suggest even if you don’t know where this conversation is taking you, your careless words leaving you before you even realize because you don’t have half the realization to think about them deeper. “You’ll protect me if there is one, right?”

Jungkook freezes in his tracks and he suddenly feels no point in trying to berate you further, the stark suggestion that was only meant to be light-hearted painting him a grave image he wasn’t even trying to conjure, trying not to snowball for the worst possible scenario.

He should always be there for you, that much he knows.

“Fucking idiot, of course I would,” he huffs that you even doubt his prioritization for you and it makes you snort because you clearly hear it, turning to face the other side as you make no move in shooing him away and instead try to go back to sleeping. “But starting now, promise me you’ll lock your doors and wake up immediately when someone knocks, alright? You hear me?”

“Hmm.”

“Cross your heart on it,” he says it out of habit even if he knows you wouldn’t do it anyway, sitting on the vacant side of you bed as he tries to shake you awake. “Anyways, I need a favor from you.”

It’s never been lost on you that unlike every other time, Jungkook wouldn’t willingly come to you this early into the night without needing something from you for his own benefit. You don’t get your hopes up that perhaps this time, he comes to your bed just to hold you in warmth amongst his embrace because it’s something only a fever nap could do for you; clearly not sick enough to see that image.

“What do you need me for now?” your eyes start blinking open as you shift to look straight up at the ceiling, casting a glance on Jungkook who has a sheepish pout on his face.

“Please cover up my hickeys. I’m begging you."

You don’t even flinch once and he’s nervous at how it seems like you didn’t even hear what he said, prompting to explain himself further. “Mom and Dad are visiting and they’re already on the way.”

You’re used to this.

There shouldn’t be any surprise factor to know that the time Jungkook wakes you up outside for the purpose of not making you late to your classes or to your errands, it would be for his sake. He wakes you up for the sake of himself, asking of you to cover up his hickeys because he’s ever the angel to his parents and he can’t do it himself.

Jungkook wakes you up for you to see marks that link him to another woman, even if it’s just for a night, while he covers up the only marks he has of you on his finger and he doesn’t even know it, completely devoid of the only linking thing you have with him.

“Get me my makeup bag.”

He immediately knows where it is and he manages to mumble out a rushed thanks, sprinting back to where you lay. In fact, you have a separate concealer in Jungkook’s shade already that you don’t even need to turn the light on to know it’s a perfect match.

You sit up lazily and cover up his hickeys like it’s routine. You see him everyday as he belongs to everyone but yourself, and the physical proof of it doesn’t hurt you as much as you expected it to be.

He lays down on your lap and neither of you talk.

You skim past the hues of pink and purple on his neck as if you were born simply to see them on your soulmate’s neck, as if you were conditioned all your life to be the one to cover up hickeys on Jungkook’s skin as your sole purpose. You do the process of covering it up over and over again until you get rid of the marks that remind him he isn’t yours at all, right until he sits up to admire your handicraft.

“Woah, it’s like it wasn’t even there! This is so-“

“Now get out.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he gets whiplash from your hostile tone, but he probably chalks it up to you being sleepy, him interrupting your rest, and you desperately wanting to get back to it.

He’s out of your room to now clean up the entire place but your tone doesn’t leave him still, making him sigh out loud while he tries not to overthink it.

You’re just sleepy.

You’d never get mad at him.

Jungkook’s eyes blink once, twice as he resumes wiping down the counters, slower and more thoughtful this time.

You’d never get mad at him, right?

( ♡ )

The day is slow and so is the pain in your heart.

You can’t put a finger on it exactly, but being with Jungkook in any other form besides a soulmate doesn’t hurt you as much nowadays. The hurt is there but it’s never really left anyway. The vacuum in the shape of Jungkook from within you has been there for so long that the hurt you feel seems like a routine at this point.

You look for him in the way when there’s a misplaced decoration on the shelf; a single magazine missing amongst a row of books. You look for it, but you come to accept it. You don’t look for Jungkook in the way when you realize that an heirloom is missing from your possession and you tear around the whole place to seek it.

Having Jungkook away from your grasp feels as normal as you have him within yours platonically, the two weighing the same amount of harrowing.

“I have an idea,” Jungkook proposes to you over the couch when he’s shouldered dinner and it’s just yet to arrive, passing the time by being around you even if your attention isn’t on him. “What if you look at my soulmate mark?”

You’ve only been endlessly scrolling through your feed and as much as you expected Jungkook to bother your silence with one conversation or another, you didn’t think it’d be this.

Rarely does it cross your mind nowadays that you’re soulmates before you’re best friends turned roommates. In fact, not once did you wander about him today and admittedly in realization, it scares you before it relieves you.

“What for?”

“Shit and giggles, I think,” he replies with much amusement but the determination in his eyes tell you that he’s more than insistent. “Don’t tell me about it though. Don’t tell me even a single clue.”

You will yourself to look back at your phone, to ignore him as if he hasn’t said the stupidest yet simultaneously brightest proposal he’s ever given you because it’s too sudden. You’ve waited for years but now that Jungkook’s asking you to look at his mark in behalf of him, simply for shit and giggles, you worry that it’s too sudden. Too early. That the moment you’ve waited for years is too abrupt and now you’d rather wait for another lifetime for it.

“What’re you doing this for?”

You repeat the question again but you’re equally as serious the first time around, seeing his brows furrow because he feels like you’ve changed the atmosphere without him knowing.

“I suddenly got curious.”

“You don’t get curious.”

“I know, I just get easily influenced,” Jungkook sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his head because it seems to him that you’re cornering him and shutting him down for no reason at all. He doesn’t necessarily know why he feels intimidated by you, but it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try to ease the tension by explaining himself. “Remember when I asked you to cover up my hickeys last week?”

“What about it?” your eyes narrow in genuine wonder, prompting you to think just how long Jungkook’s been meaning to ask you this.

“You weren’t wearing a bra that time.”

The words tumble out of Jungkook’s mouth continuously and he only has the mind to look embarrassed by it when you sputter out loud, averting his gaze to suppress a laugh,

“Jungkook-!” your pupils dart wildly, appalled and embarrassed at the same time when you defensively cross your arms across your chest even if what he’s pertaining to has long been finished. “Of course I wasn’t wearing a bra! It was 5 AM and I was still asleep when you kept knocking on my door!”

“And I wasn’t looking!” he defends himself with a laugh, head automatically shaking as he tries to reach out to you but you only swat him away. “I just glanced once because I realized it but I didn’t look again, I swear!”

“Well sometimes, you should keep your mouth shut!” you squeak, rolling your eyes as you try to get away from his further by moving to the opposite end of the couch. “I would’ve been able to live in peace without knowing you saw my boobs through my shirt.”

“It’s normal! Just like you seeing me without a shirt! We live together, stupid. It was bound one way or another,” he argues, earning yet another frustrated groan from you.

You power through the embarrassment because you’d look like such a sore loser if you walk away from him now, hiding your face to a throw pillow as Jungkook gathers his wits while he tries to get closer to you, abandoning his spot on the other end of the couch.

“Not only weren’t you wearing a bra-”

“Watch it,” you seethe when he gets close enough for you to flick his forehead harshly, earning a whine from him in the midst of laughing as he gets choked up.

His cheeks are tinted pink and it’s clear he can’t breathe well with how much he’s entertained, clearing his throat a few times and having to look away from you because your face alone apparently sends him into a fit of giggles.

You think this is the end of it. You think Jungkook’s effectively forgotten about his previous proposal and you’d be able to end the night with a good dinner and no confrontations at all, but your expectation gets spoiled as soon as you started hoping.

“You weren’t wearing your ring too.”

Your heart drops before you even get to digest all of the words, the hurt hitting you before the impending realization.

“W-what?”

Jungkook’s face twists in worry to see you so shaken up when he barely did anything, certain that you wouldn’t look this pale over a few minutes of teasing and banter. He tilts his head at you and it prompts you to straighten up and fix the worry in your features, good enough for him to continue.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t look. Besides, your mark was turned away from me the entire time because you were dabbing on my neck and I was getting sleepy while you did it,” he shrugs carelessly and it’s the first time you could physically feel the relief in your shoulder that melts all away the tension, the feeling so fluid that it feels warm.

“It was still dark too,” he adds in recollection, a faint smile on his face as he gestures to you and motions at your chest vaguely. “All I saw were just like… peaks and shadows.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jungkook,” you snap but there’s no real bite to it. In fact, it even sounds sweet but he doesn’t know how to read between the lines and therefore nestles to your side in rising worry.

“I’m sorryyy,” he drawls out and the moment he feels you pat his nape with your confirmation that it’s okay and doesn’t really matter in the first place, he springs up back to his straight posture against the cushions of the couch, an eager smile evident.

“Anyways, that’s why you have me wondering what’s underneath my ring,” he connects seamlessly, obviously unaware of the way you’ve tensed up beside him. “Now come on, it’s okay! Think of this as me making it up to you. You can go look.”

Jungkook turns his position on the couch to face you, his left hand raised right in front of you and he’s laughing with unknown nerves, the feeling being akin to being tickled because he anticipates it fully, but the sensation feels different every time.

Your mouth dries when you’re faced with the same signet ring that you wear yourself, right on Jungkook’s digit. The shiny silver stares back at you in the eye and you can’t take your gaze away from it, the familiar piece of jewelry looking more unrecognizable the longer you look at it.

You don’t know what you expect from it when he teasingly starts to pull his ring up without any big movements to reveal the ink that’s underneath, but as much as you don’t know what you want to see, the trepidation blooms fully in your chest for you to have the mind in stopping him.

“Don’t.”

Jungkook’s confused and shocked to why you suddenly refused, recalling that just two seconds ago, you were all for his fun little proposal but now you’re no longer on-board.

He’s familiar with the conflict in your eyes, he just doesn’t recognize what’s it supposed to be. He sees the cracks of your hurt, he just doesn’t know the focus of it,

“Why not?” he frowns, genuinely curious to see you avoiding his gaze.

“I shouldn’t be the first one to see it.”

“I trust you, though.”

It’s what hurts all the more because he trusts you to see the initials of what would lead him to his soulmate, to you, but not in looking at you face-to-face for you to become the very thing he doesn’t want.

“Maybe next time, Jungkook.”

The mood is somber and he doesn’t know what to make of it besides the fact that you worry him deeply, bending downwards to have a glance at your face. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He looks down on his ring but now he suddenly feels off-put looking at it, obscuring his mark that makes him curious.

“Does it have to do with your own soulmate not wanting you?” he jokes around lightly to ease the mood and if only he knew that he’s hurting you right where it hurts, he would’ve shut his mouth int the first place.

You’re bitter, harshly biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from crying, voice straining as you try to bring back the playful atmosphere.

“I’ll have you know, I’m easy to love, Jungkook. Try it sometime."

He giggles right to your face — laughs at your hurt, right to your vulnerability and the little pride you have left.

“Silly,” Jungkook ruffles your hair in much amusement, eyes crinkling in giddiness because you’ve bounced back from the minor inconvenience in his eyes just as quick. “I can’t love you.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s family has a new house.

What’s different this time is that the house they had built isn’t for business purposes to be occupied by long-time tenants nor short-term guests. The spacious three-floored house is wide in technicality but it feels quaint and warm with all the furniture and personality inside it. Most vacation houses and cottages they had built are neutral, the life of the space completely dependent on its future inhabitants. But this house of theirs is clearly their own, the evidence of the three-member family visible from floor to ceiling.

Your family’s at the top of the guest list for their housewarming and it’d be a lie to say that you don’t feel fond seeing your parents and older siblings’ reaction to the welcome that the Jeon family gives. They’re nice hosts with the way they usher their visitors to the catering tables but they’re even more warm and familial with the way they give you your plates themselves, taking you by the arm as they tour your family around their house way ahead of everyone.

Mr. Jeon gushes to your dad how they have a pond out back and invites him to accompany him next week to buy fish for their deck, Jungkook’s dad insisting that he drives the two of them and they can go for street food right after.

Jungkook takes pride in touring around your mom and your older siblings by proudly introducing them to the other visitors, all along the lines of how you’re all basically like family ever since they’ve moved in next door to your family, their humble beginnings in the form of their original house where they started from scratch.

You stand meekly by the corner, against one of the towering pillars as you watch everyone interact with each other. One thing about the Jeon family is that they’re just the type of successful no one could ever be bitter of because they’re immensely kind and genuine, not a trace of bitterness being seen in any of the faces you see.

You know the last thing you should be feeling at the moment is displacement because as far as you knew, your family’s the talk of the household right after the hosts’. You should know out of all people that you belong in this environment that’s nothing short of familial and supportive, but it’s unavoidable.

It’s unavoidable because you see exactly why Jungkook doesn’t need you.

It’s inevitable to feel out of place because in yet another house that serves as a home for Jungkook, you realize why he finds no need nor significance in having a soulmate because he has everything he needs and more.

He has everything that completes him and balances him perfectly. He stands on his own two feet and is able to be happy without knowing who the universe has assigned for him. He lives and breathes without knowing you and it’s perfectly okay.

It’s perfectly okay for him to not want you and only live for himself because he doesn’t owe you at all.

Jungkook doesn’t owe you the love that you give him and that’s perfectly okay.

Everything should be perfectly okay because he is and yet you don’t know why your eyes are downcast despite everyone else around moving on without you. No one owes you anything and you should know better than to even voice the tiniest bit of sentiments you’ve been repressing all this time because the hurt you feel should only be yours.

All the while, you’re oblivious to how you’ve gained the attention of the woman who knows Jungkook the most before you.

“It’s Jungkook, isn’t it?”

Mrs. Jeon stands before you and your eyes flit to hers in an instant, pupils trembling to see what she could possibly mean.

You think you could salvage the pitiful situation she’s caught you in because of course, there’s no possible way that she could know, right? Even your own family doesn’t know of the initials that are inked on your finger and they’re your own flesh and blood. If anything, they should be the one who’d figure it out first.

The lie you were supposed to tell her gets caught in your throat because from her gaze alone, the same gaze you receive when Hoseok speaks you the truths you always try and make excuses for, you know that she knows.

Mrs. Jeon sees right through you before Jungkook and the realization crosses her face that the two of you only stand parallel.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, the dots connecting in her head much faster even if it’s years worth of all her intuitions, the gravity of it only hitting her now. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You quickly shake your head even if she holds your hands in hers, her eyes wide and glassy to see her son’s soulmate in this light. She’s always treated you as a daughter and at first, she thought it’s because she only has a son. That maybe it’s because Jungkook’s an only child and she’s always wanted a daughter figure in her life. That maybe, she just happens to love you more than any of the daughters her friends have because she’s known you the longest.

She feels so remorseful that she should’ve listened to her instincts more and not just glaze over the fact that perhaps, you were her son’s soulmate. She feels that maybe she could’ve protected you better by saying that sooner or later, Jungkook would outgrow his phase of sleeping around.

She’s not blind to see the makeup that covers her son’s neck whenever she comes over, no matter how seamless it is. However, she’s blind enough to not see that it’s you all this time and how you’ve been hurting far longer than you should’ve.

“But what about you? What happens to you?”

“I’ll be okay, mom.”

She told you to call her that, much like how your mother insisted that Jungkook calls her that too. You reassure her endlessly that she shouldn’t feel sorry at all because it’s no one’s fault, and if it’s anyone whose blame should befall on, it should be you.

“Why did it have to be you?” her lip blubbers and it reminds you of her son, seeing her clench her eyes at the second wave of realization that you must be so hurt beyond salvation. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You don’t deserve the apology but hearing it makes you awed, your own tears welling at your eyes because for once, even if it’s the person you’ve least expected to say it to you, you feel seen. You feel remorse and pity without being looked down on; something you haven’t been able to experience in a long time.

“You deserve someone better than Jungkook.”

She looks up as if it would resolve anything. Mrs. Jeon looks like she’s begging for the universe to befall and it catches you off-guard with how she’s hugging you so tightly.

If she prayed to the universe for a short second, then the universe must’ve loved her enough to grant whatever it is that she wished for. The universe doesn’t befall on you but rather, it marches up to you with a furrow in his brow and his jaw clenched.

“What do you mean better than me?”

Jungkook didn’t mean to eavesdrop in the first place but he couldn’t hold himself back from inserting himself into the conversation that two of the most important women in his life were having, thinking it would be something he’s familiar with given the way the two of you looked shellshocked at each other.

“What are you talking about?”

He harshly whispers and neither of you meet his desperate gaze, not one bit of reassurance trying to confirm nor deny what he had just heard. He looks at his mother clutching your hands, thumb particularly rubbing your signet ring like how she would with a wound to soothe.

The realization and the heaviness that come with it are unlike no other.

“In my room now.”

Jungkook seethes as he doesn’t wait for an answer, pulling you desperately upstairs. He’s fuming even if his grasp on your wrist is gentle. He’s furious at you even if he nudges you inside his room, closing the door behind him firmer than he’d ever think of.

“Jungkook-“

“You are so fucking evil.”

What you could only see at the surface is that he’s mad, the maddest you’ve ever seen him. You don’t know if he’s mad at you directly but you feel the bite of his words nonetheless, catching you in surprise that you stutter.

“W-what?”

His expression can’t be gauged and neither can he discern what he feels. All he feels is that he’s in the dark and he’s disoriented with how blinding the light is that’s focused on him now, voice turning hoarse with how overwhelmed he feels.

“How long have you known? How long were you lying to me, huh?” he has his hands on his hips, looking at you as if he’s never seen you before and all he knows is that he’s angry at you. It feels like he doesn’t know you besides the outline of you that blindsides him. “How many people know that it’s me? How did it happen that my mother knew that I’m your soulmate before I did?”

You’re mad at him too. You’re angry at him because he speaks down to you in the way as if he doesn’t know you and all you’ve done to him is hurt him when not once did you betray him to be treated hostile as such. All you’ve done is give and it feels like Jungkook’s asking you to give him the satisfaction of being angry at you, one that he feels entitled to.

“I didn’t let you know because you didn’t want to. You’ve said it yourself a hundred times!”

“How would I have known that my fucking soulmate was standing in front of me the whole time?” he raises his voice, eyes widening. “Almost my whole life, Y/N! You knew and you didn’t even question my beliefs once?”

“And I know you don’t love me for almost as long as my whole life too. Even if I told you, it wouldn’t have made a difference. You wanted to be free and I let you!”

He scoffs, throwing his head back to mock you. He’s never the one to cry when arguing but the frustration wells up in his eyes because it all feels too much.

“So now you’re holding your heroic act against me? You already know how I feel about soulmates. You already know what I don’t feel about you! You could’ve just left and I would’ve understood!”

“No, Jungkook. You wouldn’t have understood,” your finger points at him and you don’t feel the slightest bit of remorse that you’ve offended him. “You wouldn’t have understood because not once were you in my shoes. I didn’t leave you because you didn’t want me to leave!”

Jungkook would make you cross your heart multiple times for you to never leave him. You were older than him by a few months and at one point, Jungkook must’ve looked up to you. He would’ve made you cross your heart to not leave him in the playground as kids and to not leave him to eat alone at lunch as students. He made you cross your heart to not leave him for longer than necessary as roommates, and cross your heart to lock your doors so he’d be able to sleep securely at night that nothing and nobody can harm you.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have wanted you to leave,” he grits his teeth, looking at you menacingly with stray tears on his cheeks. “But when I said that, I meant that in the sense that you shouldn’t ever leave your best friend.”

“You could’ve left me as a soulmate and I would be okay, Y/N,” Jungkook emphasizes and it’s not lost on you what he’s asking from you now. “But you’re still here! You’re still around me and it’s like you’re expecting me to love you back!”

You’re flawed but you know better than to let Jungkook construct his own truths that the both of you know are lies, persistently shaking your head as your eyes prick in frustration.

“I would never force you to love me back and you know it, Jungkook.”

You mean it with every fiber in your being because it’s tattooed into your mind that he doesn’t owe you anything at all. You love Jungkook simply because you do and you don’t expect it to be requited.

You mean it genuinely when you say that not once have you ever pressured him to love you back but it falls on deaf ears because he goes on, no matter how much you try to get it through his mind.

“I don't have to love you. Goddamn it Y/N, atleast give me a choice here. Don't just chain me to you!"

You resist the urge to grip at your hair as you cry, sobbing frustratedly. His words no longer hurt but what instead hurts you is that he makes you out for someone who isn’t you, the little pride you have left forcing you to stand up for yourself and become rational. “Hey, hey. Listen. Two people can be soulmates and not be in love with each other, y'know? That's possible."

“It’s not-“

“I’m already in love with you, Jungkook! That's the problem!”

You burst as you raise your voice and the little moment of calm gets washed away because Jungkook retaliates even louder, his chest heaving as he points at himself.

“I’m the problem now? You've been begging me all this time to love you back, and now I’m the problem?"

“You're not getting my point, Jungkook!"

“I’m really not getting your point here because you're making it sound like it's my fault that you love me!"

You try to breathe deeply, running your hands through your hair as the words slip out of you. “Maybe it's your fault, have you ever thought about that? You act as if you love me-"

“What the fuck? I’m kind, Y/N. Being kind is different from-"

“Best friends don’t-“

The words get lost on your tongue.

You stop yourself and it’s as if one seed of clarity plants itself in your mind, the sudden silence making Jungkook cease the heaving of his chest as none of you speak a word.

You’re flawed but this is the only time you feel that it’s fine to be as such, figuring that if you want to salvage the tiny bit of whatever compassion you have for yourself, you should no longer try. The tensions melts away from your shoulders and Jungkook feels the way the atmosphere once again changes before he knows it, wide eyes trying to gauge what exactly is happening.

“I’ll stop — cross my heart.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook doesn’t want to lose you.

It’s your university’s semestral break for the holidays and throughout the entire time, you haven’t contacted him.

You don’t contact him even when it’s the day before Christmas and there’s two minutes left on the clock before it’s the 25th.

The two of you are apart this time. You’re in your childhood home while his family stays over in their new vacation house. His parents miss your family beyond measure but they’d overheard your fight and decided that maybe having a different celebration this year, one that’s only the three of them even if it’s not as boisterous and fun being with your household, is for the better.

The wound’s still fresh. The sting’s still there and it’s barely healing.

That’s why Jungkook sends you a quick series of texts before his family feasts without you.

i’m sorry for the things i’ve said, i was really rude

i don’t want to lose you

happy holidays btw, we miss you

see you after break :)

( ♡ )

It’s like it never happened.

It’s like Jungkook didn’t cry himself to sleep and feel extremely lethargic because as soon as break was over and the two of you are back into your shared apartment, you act normal.

You act as if nothing changed and it drives him out of his mind for you to be so casual despite everything because it’s like this time, he’s the only who’s affected by the entire situation that’s unfolded. The two of you’ve already exchanged apologies and reassurances that you’d move on collectively but now that he thinks about it, Jungkook never should’ve agreed to move on.

He never should’ve agreed to move on because out of the two of you, you’re the only one who isn’t on a standstill.

He’s distraught that even if it’s the same scenario and scenery before the two of you even blew over, you move on from him faster than he thought you could. Jungkook almost cried himself to sleep when you weren’t home by 9 PM from your classes and you looked genuinely confused to see him pacing by the kitchen, waiting for you to come home.

He feels like he’s losing it by the minute when you wake up by yourself and not without his incessant knocking that you’d be late for class if you stay in bed for a minute longer.

His heart feels like it’s about to break down when you don’t call him over to say hi whenever your parents call you, only getting to hear your conversations through the door as he suddenly feels that he’s excluded from all the things he shares with you.

He reminds himself that he wanted this. He reminds himself that he said he wanted you to leave during his family’s housewarming party, that he then retracts his statement and said he didn’t want to lose you over the holidays, and that all throughout the years he’s been with you — he’s never wanted you.

Jungkook reminds himself that he’s still with you.

He’s still with you, that much he knows.

He just isn’t sure if you’re still with him.

( ♡ )

Jungkook didn’t expect for this to hurt so bad.

He didn’t expect to be so lost into his thoughts that he couldn’t sleep in his room and marches right outside the living room wearing a new pair of socks that he didn’t expect to be this slippery, not registering into his mind that he’s done household chores the whole day to keep his mind preoccupied and that the hardwood floors are squeaky clean with wax.

He didn’t expect that he’d slip and fall on his arm painfully that it makes him wince, groaning at the impact of his body weight crushing his arm and for such a striking pain to travel to his elbow all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Jungkook didn’t expect for it to hurt this much because you don’t come out of your room to help him and he can’t take it, frustrated as he can’t get up that he does nothing but yell out your name multiple times.

All his calls for you effectively summoned you out but you’re more confused than you are panicked, a gasp leaving your lips when you see him lying in pain on the floor.

“What happened to you?” you ask in worry as you try to pull him up without hurting him, making him wince while trying to answer your question nonetheless.

“Huh?” he lets you carry him up to sit him down the couch for the meantime, assessing just how bad his fracture looks like to see if you’d have to drive him to the hospital. “What do you mean? Didn’t you feel the pain?”

Jungkook knows about the red string of pull and his eyes blink twice in confusion because you only realize what he’s talking about belatedly, the genuine confusion in your face making him swallow the lump in his throat.

“Oh. I didn't feel it. There wasn't a pull."

“Stop joking with me."

He clenches his jaw at how you could manage to play with him over such an important matter, even more baffled when you defensively shake your head and even breathlessly laugh.

“I’m not, Kook! I swear, I really didn't."

“Bullshit,” he rolls his eyes casually, deadpanning at you with a gasp emerging from his lips. “You knew I broke my arm and intentionally didn't help me!”

“Jungkook, I swear on my life,” he sees you hold up your hand in the air in a promise, tiny giggles of disbelief leaving you as he genuinely can’t understand where exactly is the humor you find in this.

He purses his lips and tries to look deeper for anything in your eyes that give you away even the slightest bit, pointing at your ring. “Take it off."

He watches intently the way surprise sweeps across your features and he thinks for a second that you’re just lying to him — you wouldn’t really take off your ring because doing so would confirm his hopes that it’s his same initials with the same vivid shade of red, right?

But you do it nonetheless.

Truth be told you’ve only removed your ring once since the incident because you didn’t want to be reminded of whose initials were underneath it, but it surprises you that your compliance gets the better of you and you take it off from him.

Jungkook’s stare falters to see the very thing he’s asked for.

What he could only make out clearly now is the J in the middle of his first and last initial, the two other letters clearly not as prominent. You’re shocked to see the difference from when you last saw your mark, the first J and K by your ring finger fading in contrast.

“You can’t — is this true?” he finds himself swallowing the lump in his throat painfully, taking your finger into his own hands that he barely winces using his other arm, rubbing his thumb against your skin to see if it was just some trick. “Surely you can’t spell my name without the jeon and the kook, right?”

His breathing is too heavy and you don’t speak either. The two of you have heard about this once when you were children from both of your mothers, all blissfully too young and unaware to consider the possibility that it might just happen to the two of you.

“About the mark-…”

“My mom said-…”

The two of you pipe up at the same time but Jungkook lets you go first because even if you haven’t spoken at the same time as he did, he wouldn’t have been able to finish what he was supposed to say.

You say your next words honestly, in a gentle and soft voice but it lands loud and disruptive to Jungkook’s ears, making him want to clamp his ears shut because he refuses to believe.

“It could be because the universe is reassigning me a new soulmate.”

“Y-yeah,” he clears his throat as if it would stop the tears that are threatening to fall on his cheeks, looking down on his lap as he unconsciously hunches on himself. “I remember our moms saying this when we were kids.”

“Mhmm,” you hum in recollection, pointing to him eagerly because the two of you are at the same page. “I asked my mom about a week ago then an hour later, I got put into a groupchat with all the moms of the friends that I have."

Jungkook weakly snorts to match your energy because he’s weak. He’s too weak to raise his head to face how you’re so nonchalant about this and this time, it’s him who’s hurting so badly.

“Everyone's bets are on PJM — Park Jimin! Who would’ve known, right? The J initial makes sense."

Jimin, a family friend of a family friend.

Jimin, the one kid in preschool that always wowed the parents and the teachers because he talks like how a fourth-grader would and knows how to do addition with the carrying.

Jimin, a distant friend who studied abroad for college and whose news broke out that he’s coming back home during his break and plans to settle here in your city.

Jimin, someone who’s theorized to replace Jungkook.

“Don't even joke about that. I’m serious,” he mumbles under his breath and the croak of his voice gives him away, suddenly standing up from the couch and forgetting about his physical pain entirely, bidding you a quiet good night that he could only know is not something that he’d be getting underneath this dark.

“I’m gonna go to sleep."

( ♡ )

Jungkook wishes that his eyesight wasn’t so clear.

He wishes he didn’t heed his mother’s warnings of not looking at screens for too long too closely and his father’s insistence that he takes his vegetables and vitamins.

He wishes that his vision is poor because in that way, he wouldn’t be able to notice how the silver that’s against your skin looks different; how he couldn’t tell that it’s shine isn’t the same that he’s used to seeing and how it’s no longer the signet ring that looks like the same piece that he wears on your ring finger.

“Did you change your ring?"

He asks you one morning when you’re making breakfast. He memorizes seeing the furrow in your brows and the realization in your face as you look down on your hand, his words clicking into your head in understanding.

“Oh yeah, I did.”

Your ring’s now of a thicker design with intricate details and swirls, the band of it seemingly molded into decorative crosses. It looks heavy and of high-quality and Jungkook’s certain that your ring’s more expensive this time, clueless to where and when you got it.

The groove of the silver reminds him of the letter P, and his mind goes to Jimin’s family name instantaneously — and it makes Jungkook pray that he’d rather have his vision tainted than to ever see it on your skin.

( ♡ )

“Where are you going this early in the morning?”

Jungkook can’t bear to sleep in his bedroom anymore nowadays because it feels to confined, not wanting to be alone with his thoughts and insecurities which is why he chooses to sleep in the living room where it’s open and he has everywhere else to look at besides his ceiling.

He hasn’t even been sleeping well in the first place which is why he’s alert from his shallow nap when your door clicks open and he sees you already bathed and dressed.

“My dad told me to join him fishing,” you answer when you move on from the surprise he’s given you, releasing the hand from your chest as you calm down. “He’s fishing with Jimin’s dad.”

You’re too busy packing snacks that you don’t register how there’s pillows and blankets on the couch because Jungkook sleeps out here nowadays, compared to your assumptions that he’s just gaming or doing his assignments. Your back is turned to him which is why you don’t notice his face that looks crestfallen at your further explanation, heart sinking in thought.

“Oh,” he stabilizes his voice as best as he could, eyes set at the back of your head as he tries not to give himself away. “Would Jimin be there?”

“Not sure. I’ll see when I get there.”

He nods once, biting on his lip as he tries again.

“Is my dad coming with?”

“O-oh,” the realization crosses your mind that your dad’s companion when it comes to fishing and perhaps any other activity is Mr. Jeon, only hitting you now that you haven’t heard the mention of his name. “I honestly don’t know.”

That’s the thing of both your dads and Jungkook aches at the thought if his time is over. If his family’s time is over with yours. If it’s too late and the ink on your finger can no longer be traced back to him.

If it’s still him.

“Drive safe, m’kay? Call me when you need me.”

You don’t approach him for a goodbye hug and he feels too odd to only keep to himself as you leave out the door, not looking back even once.

Call me even if you don’t need me.

The words only remain on his tongue because speaking it out loud is pointless. It’s pathetic to be said out in the open because you aren’t there for him to look like a fool in front of. He looks pathetic as he waits for you.

It’s because you don’t call him throughout the day to ask if he’s already brought out the meat to defrost for his lunch or what he wants for dinner because you’re ordering on the way home. It’s because you don’t tell him to text you repeatedly so you wouldn’t fall asleep in traffic and miss out on your dad’s banter. It’s because even if he doesn’t need anything from you; even if you aren’t willing to give and he’s eager to take —

Jungkook will always need you.

( ♡ )

The pain Jungkook feels in his bones simmers before it bubbles over.

It marinates and lulls into his skin warmly before it stings. It’s a soothing type of heat that he mistakes for tension before it starts to sting. The pain he feels in his heart all the way down to the pit of his stomach stings before it boils and bubbles at his skin.

The pain he feels burns him unlike no other.

It’s the type of hurt he feels that no matter how much he rubs at his skin and cries his eyes out, it doesn’t relieve him even the slightest bit. He doesn’t feel the calmness when he goes through every single thing that used to soothe him before, every chance at salvation only for the pain to burn deeper making him more frustrated than the last.

Jungkook cries his eyes out every night and he thinks he’s exhausted all the tears out of himself because he finds himself knocking on your door, waiting for you to grant him entrance as he keeps his breathing at bay.

It’s late at night when you’re buried into doing your requirements that you tumble out of your chair to open the door for Jungkook, figuring that it must be an emergency with the way his knocks are desperate.

His eyes land on you the moment you open the door for him, words crawling out of his mouth as he pleads.

“Let me kiss you."

He’s no stranger to the confusion in your face and it feels as if nothing from the two of you would surprise each other at this point. He knows you’re tired and busy but he can’t stop himself to just reserve what he feels tonight and save it for the morning.

Your mouth flounders in wonder, closing it when you figure that nothing else would be lost from you.

You let Jungkook kiss you.

You taste as sweet as Jungkook thought for you to be and more and he cries. He cries as you allow him to kiss you for the first time and let him knock his forehead against yours as his cheeks are damp with despair, eyes looking down on your finger instinctively.

You know exactly what he’s looking at and it makes you sigh solemnly, pressing your knuckles against your sheets so he wouldn’t be able to see.

“Jungkook-…”

Jungkook refuses to give up because this time, he interrupts you with an even deeper kiss that you accidentally moan into, lost into your senses by the surprise that it makes your eyes close.

He tastes you deeper and longer and he feels like he can’t breathe, inhales feeling heavier and his exhales being fewer that you have to put a hand on his chest to nudge him away from you, a pitiful look spanning across your eyes that makes him shut his.

“Kissing me harder isn't gonna help.”

His initials on your finger don’t magically turn more vibrant, more alive. He thinks he’s exhausted every single tear he could possibly cry but it’s seemingly not over, sobbing into his hands right in front of you.

“Why are you not freaked out that your mark's disappearing?! It's changing! I-it might not even be me anymore!”

Jungkook sobs brokenly when he used to not be able to even have his voice tremble at your presence. His shoulders hunch and give out and you have no choice but to catch him with your hands, fearing that he’d tumble out of the edge of your bed and fall on the floor.

“I thought you wanted this. I’m not consciously controlling this, Jungkook. It's just the same when you had no control of your mark not appearing on you."

His words haven’t left you but so is the remaining little love you have for him, knowing realistically that a single night of confrontation isn’t enough to undo years of loving.

“It's on me now. I-It's showing up on me, but it's disappearing from you."

His sobs wrack his own body and you think for a moment that he’s about to pass out with how much he coughs from getting choked up, springing more tears into his eyes as he feels like puking.

“You started to accept it when I started revoking it."

You mumble to yourself in realization and what pains him is that he’s heard it loud and clear, crumpling into your figure as you unconsciously realize that your hand soothes his back.

Jungkook cries the most in his lifetime, tucking his face into your shirt as he shakes his head back and forth like it was a nightmare he’s just forced to live out, words repeating over and over again.

“Don't shut me out."

He clings onto you more than he’s ever had.

Jungkook looks for you in everything and tries to weasel his way into every day that passes, not the least bit of embarrassment creeping up to him on how he looks like a fool every time you leave him hanging and alone.

He apologizes to you day and night until you grow tired of him; until you roll your eyes at him to give it a rest and just shut up at that point onwards.

He endures the hurt and the rejection you give him over and over again; not even going up to par with half of the hurt he’s unknowingly given you all this time.

Jungkook knows he’s flawed — but he’s certain that he’s not flawed enough to stop trying.

He wakes up to the morning light and goes to sleep at the evening glow with only the prayer that he becomes better, better enough to be deserving of you and better enough to be someone the universe would shift connections for.

He’s flawed, but not flawed enough to think that you owe him your love, regardless of his efforts.

The days are warmer and the gaps are fuller when there’s an incessant knocking on your door. The lights are softer and the nights are kinder when there’s a figure that wedges itself beside your bed, a quiet hum to his voice.

“I told you to start locking your doors.”

Jungkook feels the tiny exhale of breath that leaves you before it turns into a giggle, hugging your pillow closer.

“But it’s you.”

He smiles.

“But it’s me.”

Jungkook lies next to you a little closer, his arms bigger compared to the last months that he now manages to cage you fully and have his hands be able to cup yours without having to stretch further.

There’s nothing cool to the touch because nowadays, you let your ring finger breathe as much as he lets his own mark to be seen.

“There are three types of love, y’know?” he hums to your ear when he knows you’re just about to be lulled back to your sleep, able to see you clearly in the dark because no matter what light the both if you are underneath in, he only sees you.

“I was your first, right? Jimin's the second, I’m sure,” he breathily laughs, taking away the hair from your nape because he knows that it bothers you. “I can be the third. I-I can be your third love. I’ll work for it."

For only a second too long that it’s quiet, your voice cutting through the air.

“You can't be my third love, Jungkook,” you hum just as long as his heart stops beating. “You're my only love."

Your eyes are still closed when you silently profess the love that’s never left you, oblivious to how Jungkook is as stiff as concrete behind you that you feel his shoulders lose the hurt immediately. “I’ve loved you three times through."

Jungkook could only hope that it’s not the sleep talking.

He knows you’re real beyond anything and anyone. You’re tangible and fragile and he’s come to learn it a thousand times more. “I’ll love you three times more."

For the longest time on end did Jungkook feel that he’s been falling but the impact never comes. He would’ve wanted to feel it, but either way, he’d know that it would be fine. That he would be fine. That the two of you will be fine and it’s you who he entrusts to spend all of his infinites with, no matter the hurt.

“I love you more than you'll ever know.”

SIEMPRE

leo valdez x fem!reader

author's note oh em gee u guys when i say i had an epiphany,,, i mean it!!! this fic better not flop jshjhs xo

word count 0.4k

warnings fem!reader, leo being smooth mf, spanish, petnames, mentions of forgetting a date & fights, like one swear?

ᥫ᭡ little romantic gestures ; helping you wear your necklace and kissing your neck softly

you came into bunker nine alone, but the mirror in leo's makeshift bedroom reflection held two people.

"corazón."

"leo," you said. you didn't take your eyes off of the charm on the necklace you were trying to put on. the clasp just wouldn't, well, clasp. you saw him reach up to the necklace and gently take it from your hands.

"im sorry, cariño," he whispered. as his hands worked the clasp onto the chain, his brown eyes met yours in the reflection. "i know you were looking forward to trying that new restaurant."

" 's fine, leo. you were busy." the last word came out harsher than you expected, and you saw leo's face fall ever so slightly. leo had promised to take you to dinner and a walk through the strawberry fields after, but he bailed because some ares campers needed him to fix their spears or whatever. the night had ended in an argument, when you, all dolled up and ready for your date, had barged into bunker nine to find leo in old sweatpants and a stained camp shirt, his face and hands covered in dust and grease.

"no, its not fine, amor". his head dipped into the crook of your neck and he started pressing kisses to your skin, working his way up to your jaw. the necklace was cold against your flushed skin. "i should have told them that their stupid spears to wait until tomorrow." his breath was hot against your ear when he whispered, "te quiero para mal o para bien. esperaría por siempre y para siempre."

since being with leo for almost a year, you've picked up some spanish. the words whirred through your (short-circuiting) mind for a few moments before you turn to him, lips almost touching, and say, "did you just quote taylor swift at me? in spanish?"

"maybe," he grinned. "did it work?"

"oh, you ass," you laughed, swatting him on the shoulder. his grin widened and he grabbed your waist, picking you up and spinning you around.

"no sabes que tanto te amo, quierida," he said, putting you down. "oh, and you look great in that dress," he added, winking and waggling his eyebrows.

you groaned and grabbed his wrist to check his watch; 8:46 pm.

"we're leaving in four minutes," you said, pointing a finger at your boyfriend's chest. "i'm going to put perfume on and then we can leave, okay?"

"okay," leo replied, stealing a kiss before gently pushing you towards his bathroom. at nine, you still hadn't come out. leo poked his head around the corner and saw you touching up your makeup and hair. "weren't we supposed to leave at nine?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"just wait!! i have this baby hair and its bugging me," you huffed, trying to pat the non-existent hair down.

leo smiled. "siempre." that was how long he'd wait for you.

This is the complete masterlist to find all the fics, to search for a specific type of member + genre + au, please read this post to know how to do it. Send me an ask if any of the links isn't working.

Tag filters are ON for content warning ONLY on desktop mode.

The tag of each member plus two extra tags. The emoji represents the member.

[🍒]Choi Seungcheol

[😇]Yoon Jeonghan

[🦌]Hong Joshua

[🐱]Wen Junhui

[🐯]Kwon Soonyoung

[🦊]Jeon Wonwoo

[🍚]Lee Jihoon

[🐸]Xu Minghao

[🐶]Kim Mingyu

[⚔]Lee Seokmin

[🍊]Boo Seungkwan

[🐢]Chwe Hansol

[🦖]Lee Chan

[💎]OT13 This includes works that: 1. don't specify the member of Seventeen to avoid spoilers, 2. it is more than 1 member (the work will also appear in each member tag) 3. no pairing x reader).

[🦋] 14th member

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To clarify, tags like badboy/badgirl include works with at least one of these following examples: bad boy!svt member x reader, bad girl!reader x svt member, bad boy!svt member x bad girl!reader, bad boy!svt member x bad boy!reader, etc.

This are the following pairings.

Seventeen member x Gender neutral member

Seventeen member x Reader

Seventeen member x Seventeen member

Type of fics. For fics that are long will be added in the tag #one shot until I can add a specific tag for that type of works.

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Note: I honestly don't know the difference. My apologies if I put a work in the wrong type.

Five Moments in Time

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Nurse!Reader

Summary: All of the moments in which Sergeant Barnes let the nurse on his unit know he’s not gonna stop trying to win her over. Even from beyond the grave.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Minor injury, angst (the big kind)

a/n: I rewatched tfa and fell in love with Bucky all over again! So I had to write some 40s angst of course. Also I think might’ve made myself cry. 

I discontinued my taglist, but you can follow my library blog @pellucid-library​ for notifications 🤍

Masterlist

“And just who are you?” 

The medical tent was overrun with white-clad bodies in a flurry. Aprons were stained and gauze was clenched tightly between overworked fingers. The war hadn’t been kind, but at least Captain Rogers had been able to save all these men. 

And amongst the men was the flirty, ever charming, Bucky Barnes. 

“I’ve told you, Sergeant Barnes, I’m your nurse. Now please sit back so I can properly stitch your arm.” 

He didn’t listen to you, sitting up further to prop his hand on his chin and take you in. You’d asked him about four times now, each one fruitless. 

Keep reading

not being romantic

Jess Mariano may be cute, possibly charming, but he is most definitely annoying. He certainly can’t hold a candle to your secret pen pal who’s smart, loves books, and aspires to be an author. Or can he?

Jess Mariano x f!Reader

Warning: no use of y/n, mostly fluff, some angst, cursing, suggestiveness. This fic is set after he left Stars Hollow.

✿ Masterlist | 3.3k words

The cafe buzzed with the rush of customers lined up for their afternoon caffeine fix. Coffee machines droned on churning coffee as sunlight streamed through the windows and the smell of baked goods wafted through the air.

You smirked at Jess Mariano before you called the customer to hand them their drink. You proceeded to add another point to your scoreboard, waving your arm for emphasis. He rolled his eyes at your dramatics and hurried up, adding whipped cream to the drink he was preparing. 

Everything was always a game with him. Who could get the highest amount of tips? Who could guess the new customer's coffee order? Who could make the most convincing foreign accent?

Today’s game was: who could make the fastest coffee order?

“You’ve gotten better,” he observed as you grabbed a cup for the next customer. “Aren’t you glad to have had an incredible instructor like me?”

You scoffed, “more like an incredible loser if you don’t hurry up with that order. Just because you taught me, doesn’t mean I’d go easy on you, Mariano,” you taunt, narrowing your eyes for emphasis.

He shook his head with a smile, “I expected nothing less from you.” He made his way to the other end of the counter to call the customer and handed them their drink.  

Another busy shift flew by and before you knew it, it was time to close down the cafe.

You grabbed the scoreboard, beaming with pride. “I won! You can now call me the Queen of Speed, Barista Extraordinaire. Bow down before your queen.”

Jess looked up from where he was wiping the counter with a flat expression. “I’ll call you the Queen of Clean if you help me with these last few tables?”

You frowned at him and stuck your tongue out, of course he had a whole arsenal of retorts with him at any given moment. You grabbed the towel and disinfectant spray from behind the counter and moved to wipe down the tables. “You’re no fun, but I’ll let it slide since you now owe me a favor.”

“As long as I don’t have to help you dispose of a body then it’s fine,” he replied, eyebrow raised. 

You rolled your eyes, “if I ever need to dispose a body, it would probably be yours.”

“Are you confessing to something you’ll commit? I don’t think that’s very wise.”

“I’m not planning anything,” you sighed, pinching your nose. The conversation was getting more and more off topic by the second. “You, however, will be the dea*h of me.”

“I’ll add you to the waitlist,” he nodded as he set aside the towel and grabbed the key, ready to close for the evening. Of course that wasn't the first time that line was directed at him.

“You’re just trying to avoid what you owe me. Stop deflecting, Mariano,” you accused, heading towards him to return the cleaning materials. “I need your help with my toaster, it stopped working and I can’t afford to get it fixed or replaced. Can you help me with that?”

“Of course, anything for the Queen of Speed,” he replied.

“You forgot Barista Extraordinaire,” you added helpfully.

Jess just shook his head as if to say, I can’t win with you. He fought the smile that threatened to break across his features. Perhaps you too had your own arsenal of comebacks.

With the final turn of the key, the door swung in and you and Jess headed into your tiny apartment. It was a studio that’s three steps away from the kitchen, five steps away from the bathroom, and ten steps away from the bed. You liked to keep it simple, minimalistic. It definitely had nothing to do with the cheap rent.

“Welcome to my apartment. It’s not much but it’s home,” you said, gesturing around the place.

“It’s cozy and it’s very you,” he remarked.

You folded your arms and stared at him, “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment.”

“Let me see. Second hand furniture, potted plants around the area, and the artwork looks similar to your napkin doodles. Don’t think I didn’t notice them. It’s a mosaic of different things, but you managed to tie it all together and make it work. It’s just like you to make good out of a potentially bad situation,” he observed.

“Slow down there or you’ll end up hosting shows about house tours,” you teased. “And hey, I’ll take the compliment. Who knew Jess Mariano could be nice?”

He shrugged, “I just call it like I see it.”

You took the three steps necessary to reach the kitchen. “Here’s the troublemaker, by the way. Not you, well, aside from you,” you amended and pointed to the toaster. “Not sure what’s wrong, it just stopped working.”  

He approached you and it struck you just how small the kitchen was, certainly not big enough for two. When you turned to speak to him, all the words left your mind as you realized you’re only inches away from him. Heat crept up your cheeks and you blinked.

Jess smirked at your reaction, keenly aware of the effect he had to you. That cocky bastard. He leaned in a bit closer and your breath hitched. “You know, if you just wanted me over at your place, there’s a lot of other fun things I can help you with.” You scrunched your nose and took a step back, immediately transported to the area you considered your bedroom. “If that’s your way of confessing your feelings for me, it’s not very romantic at all. Thought you’d have more game than that, Mariano,” you hedged.

“Oh, that’s because I’m not trying to be romantic. If I were trying....” he said, taking a step forward, closing the distance you tried to place between you. He brushed the hair away from your cheek, the touch so unexpectedly tender coming from Jess. You took in how soft his lips looked up close.

When he touched the side of your face, your attention returned to his soulful eyes. “...I’d do something like this,” he concluded, his breath against your lips like the ghost of a kiss. That’s all it took for him to steal the breath from your lungs.

You’re disoriented when cool air greets you again as he took a step back and the only trace left is the fading warmth from where his hand caressed your cheek. “But like I said, I’m not trying to be romantic,” he shrugged.

You cleared your throat, brushing off the lingering heat of the interaction. You ignored the pang of disappointment that hit you. Besides, someone else already had your heart, this was nothing but a silly little crush. “Well can you please try to fix my toaster?” you asked, trying to stay on topic as always.

“Sure, I have tools at home. I can take it with me and bring it back when I’m done.”

You nodded, “okay thank you. Let me just grab a bag you can carry it in.”

He scanned the room while you opened the cabinet to grab a reusable bag.

“Why do you have lots of mail?” He asked, thumbing through the pile of opened envelopes on your kitchen counter.

You mulled over the question, unsure how much you wanted to share with Jess Mariano and risk a round of his teasing. Then again, you could handle Jess. “Well, there’s this guy I really like. We send each other letters. If you really want to know what romantic is, Mariano, it’s hand written letters. No one bothers to write them anymore. There’s something sweet and sincere about it.”

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

“I’m not really sure. I got his first letter from the bookstore I frequent, the employee handed it to me and I asked him to hand back my reply. We just kept going from there, I think the mystery just adds to the romance.”

Jess shot you a worried look. “You mean to say, you’re corresponding with a complete stranger? For all you know he’s hiding his identity because he’s a stalker or a serial killer.”

“Please, he is not. He is smart, funny, and he’s writing a book. I just don’t feel like he’s that type of person.”

“You’re going off this based on your feelings? I don’t think that’s wise or safe.”

“Jess, it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about,” you replied, having had enough of him for the day. After handing him the bag with the broken toaster, you shoved him towards the door and out from your apartment, wishing him a good night.  

“That was quick,” you said as you headed out of the cafe and walked towards Jess’ apartment to retrieve your now functional toaster.

Jess shrugged, “it was no big deal, just had a few loose screws to reattach. Speaking of loose screws, how about that imaginary boyfriend of yours? Finally decide to reveal himself?” 

You sighed, Jess had been on your case the whole week since you told him about your mysterious crush. Needless to say, you regretted telling him about it. “No, but he hasn’t written to me recently,” you pondered. “He must be busy writing his book.”

“Or planning your untimely demise,” he retorts.

“Jess, I swear,” you grit your teeth, “I’ll be planning your untimely demise if you don’t drop it. Why do you care so much? Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?”

“Well I’m trying to look out for a coworker, why does this have to be about me? But hey, I’ll drop it,” he relented. “Besides, I won today so you owe me a favor.”

You groaned, but don’t say anything further. He won fair and square, you were ready to accept your fate.

Jess continued, “My uncle sent some food last night and I have a lot more than I can finish myself. Help me with that before you leave with your toaster?”

“Jess Mariano,” you narrowed your eyes at him, “are you asking me out for dinner?”   

“No,” he quickly said and then caught himself. “We’re not going out, we’re dining in. Besides if I were being romantic, I might bring you flowers, pick you up, take you somewhere nice. So this,” he said, pointing between him and you, “is not me being romantic.”

“And there goes Mr. Defensive,” you smirked. Of course he was not being romantic, not to you. He had a hundred and one ways to tease and annoy you but never to charm you. Still, you couldn’t help the way it killed you just a little inside.

“I swear if you tell me this is where the magic happens, I will smack your head,” you deadpan as Jess opened the door to his apartment.

“Why does that turn me on?” He teased. Your face twisted in confusion and disgust and Jess laughed triumphantly, having drawn out a reaction from you. You had no idea you were adorable, he thought.

“Just welcome to my home then,” he said. 

You stepped in, admiring his cozy space. You imagined a messy home with leftover containers and soda cans strewn about reeking of old laundry and faded furniture. You had little to no expectations at all.

Instead what greeted you was a small space, similar to yours. The bed was made, blanket tucked in neat corners and the furniture, while undoubtedly secondhand, was well maintained. If anything, the mismatched pillows against the pale blue sofa and the sanded down wooden table gave it personality. It smelled like subtle household cleaners and carried the scent that is so distinctly Jess, a mixture of soap and sweat, plus a hint of cologne he would never admit to wearing.

“It’s very you,” you remarked, “and I don’t mean that as a bad thing.”

He shrugged, handing you your toaster, “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Thanks again for the toaster. Now there’s only one troublemaker here in this room,” you quipped as you move towards his kitchen to help him set the dinner table.

“That’s definitely you,” he replied, handing you the plates and utensils while he moved to heat up the food from the fridge. “Hand me the glasses over there?” He asked, pointing to the drawers on the opposite end.

You nodded, setting down the plates on the table and headed towards the drawer. “Well, I’ll let it slide just this time because you’re feeding me and I can’t say no to free food. Thank you Jess,” you said, a small hint of affection blooming in your chest.

You opened the first drawer and found only papers. You were about to close it to check the next drawer when the familiar edge of stationery caught your eye. It was exactly the type of paper you smiled at for hours on end, trying to memorize each word. Curiosity got the better of you and you lifted a half written letter to your eyes. A half written letter addressed to you.

A storm of emotions struck you then: confusion, hurt, and anger. All this time. The boy who weaseled his way into your heart, who called you cute in his first letter and wanted to get to know you. Who charmed you into the romantic idea of secret identities like spies undercover. Who shared your love for books and had the best recommendations that made you feel seen like no one ever has. Who spoke about his love for writing with a passion that inspired you. 

All this time it was Jess Mariano.

All this time it was a lie.

Just another one of his games.

“What about those gla—” he stopped mid-sentence when he turned back and saw you reading his letter.

“Fuck,” he exhaled softly as heat crept into his cheeks.

You looked at him, fire burning in your eyes. “Is that all you have to say, Mr. Fantastic Writer?” You huffed, trying to quell the tears that threatened to choke you. 

Jess opened his mouth and closed it, wanting to say a million words and failing. You watched the war raging in his head.

“Well then indeed, fuck!” You exclaimed in frustration. “And fuck you too. I know you love your games Jess, but you can’t just go around playing with other people’s feelings.”

You retreat and grabbed your things, shaking your head. “God, I feel like such a fool.”

You threw the door behind you and was a few steps away when you realized you left your toaster. Shame and betrayal marched with you as you opened his door again and found him still frozen where you left him.

“I’m just here for my toaster, which I actually need. Unlike you, I don’t need anything from you, Jess. I’ve read and heard enough,” you said, your voice wavered at the end and tears spilled down your cheeks.

You turned away from embarrassment, toaster in hand, and ran the rest of the way home. He didn’t deserve to hear your sobbing. He didn’t even deserve any of your tears. He was just a stupid boy that your stupid heart fell for. No big deal.

The next week passed in a blur. Unable to switch shifts with anyone else, you called in sick at the cafe and lived life between your university, the library, and your apartment. Never mind that you needed the pay, you could drown in instant noodles for all you cared. It didn’t matter anyway. A broken heart never cared for a full stomach.

That Friday, you were about to call it a night when the doorbell rang. The was odd, you thought, you weren’t expecting anyone. 

“You’ve got the wrong—” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw the last person you ever wanted to see, Jess Mariano holding a bouquet of flowers and books. If it were any other day, it might have sent butterflies to your stomach. Now all it did was fan the flames of your anger because it was much easier to be angry than hurt.

You slammed the door close but Jess stopped it with his outstretched arm. “Are you trying to get yourself injured?” You accused and you hated it, how much you still cared.

“Please, I just need to talk,” he said, pain and sincerity etched in his handsome face.

You sighed and let him in, not wanting to cause a scene at the hallway. “You have five minutes,” you held up your hand for emphasis.

“Fine, five minutes,” he breathed, steeling himself. "Here’s a story for you: I met this girl working at a cafe. She’s smart and quick witted, she never runs out of comebacks. Her smile makes my day and I needed to see more of it so I came up with these games. And damn it, I looked forward to going to work every day because of her.

There was a nagging at the back of my mind to get to know her better. I wanted her to get to know me too, but I have a track record of screwing things up so I sent a letter. Just one couldn’t hurt, right?

Clearly, I underestimated her. One letter was never going to be enough. I loved hearing about her dreams, her stories, the inside jokes we created along the way. Without meaning to, I fell for her. I fell for you. It was never a game for me, all of it was real. Is still real.

When I heard you liked your secret pen pal too, I didn’t know if I should reveal myself or just disappear, let you forget me. Of course, I screwed things up again. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you but clearly I have. Would you give me a second chance? I’m not good at this but I want to try."

He’s breathless by the time he ends his speech and you take a moment as the words settled in. No wonder he discouraged your interest in your secret pen pal, which also turned out to be him.

You sighed, “you really screwed it up.” Your heart broke all over again only to come back whole together because he did like you. All those silly gestures he brushed off really did mean something. And the boy you loved through letters and your cafe crush turned out to be the same person.

You pondered his question. The way he went about it was all wrong, but a second chance might be worth a shot. “Fine, we can start over, but you’ll have to make it up to me. You owe me unlimited favors.”

“I'll fix all the toasters you need,” he said, presenting you with the bouquet of flowers and books.

“Oh you’ll have to do more than that. I have a broken bulb on the ceiling, the heater needs fixing, and the microwave will definitely break tomorrow,” you taunted him, accepting his bouquet nevertheless.

He just smiled, “I have a lot to make up for, but I’ll do it for you.” He moved closer to you, bringing the bouquet to rest on the kitchen counter, so he can wrap his arms around you. “You’re worth it,” he whispered in your ear and you hugged him back, fighting off the delicious chill that ran through your back from his words. Being in his arms felt so right.

“You like me,” you sing, teasing him like a child and you enjoy the way his chest rumbles against you as he laughs.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Besides, you like me back.”

You removed yourself from his hug, already missing his warm embrace. “I never said I liked you,” you teased. 

Mock hurt danced across his features, “what’s not to like?”

You laughed at his arrogance, the need to touch him overwhelming everything else. “Fine,” you relented, “we can call it even.”

You closed the distance this time, “just to be clear, this is you being romantic?”

He smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist again. “Yes, this is me being romantic and I will show you so much more,” he said, bringing his lips to yours with a thousand unsaid promises you were about to discover.

✿ Masterlist

Author's note:

✿ When I came across a Jess Mariano fic, I just knew I had to write one too. Jess and his sarcastic ass in a (sort of) rivals to lovers trope, heck yes. ✿ Thanks to my lovely wife @pizzaapeteer for encouraging me to write this all those weeks ago ♡ ✿ Published this fic from a cafe, very on brand for the story.

attention pledis university !!  do you have something you want to say to a special someone, but can’t seem to find the right words or even the courage? why not anonymously (or don’t be anonymous, completely up to you) send a message and dedicate a song to them?  love on the air. airing every saturday at 1pm on pledis radio!

suhnshinehaos presents…

love on the air : a joshua hong smau

synopsis… joshua hong wants you to know how he feels about you, but god forbid he actually say it out loud. instead, he settles on the next best thing : dedicating a song to you every week on the campus radio. too bad you’re too dense to actually figure out it’s all for you.

pairing : joshua hong x gn!reader

genre/s : non-idol au, university au, childhood friends to ???, so much pining, fluff, a bit of angst, honestly so corny and cheesy just- beware dfghjks

will likely contain : food mentions, swearing (will update as i go on)

status :: completed !

—  parts + note under the cut

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greedy | myg x reader | epilogue: bases loaded

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 1.3K

notes:  thank you endlessly for reading, reviewing and sharing this story. i’m so in love with this tough-but-secretly vulnerable yoongi and you’ll never know how happy it makes me that you guys love him, too. i hope you enjoy how the story ends. either way, i’d love to hear from you! please send me an ask here and tell me what you think.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

*******************

Fuck, it’s hot.

The forecaster called for a high of 91° today, but he must have missed that mark by at least a hundred degrees.  There is no breeze and absolutely no respite from the unforgiving sun here in the cheap seats.

The Lions batter connects with the ball – finally – and Yoongi winces as he watches it sail right over the foul line.

Beneath his sling his arm feels sticky, itchy. 

He’d love nothing more than to rip that sling off and go to town on his arm with his fingernails, but any moment now you’ll be back from the concession stand.  You’ll probably hold his hot dog hostage if you catch him.

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You Broke Me First; ONGOING

(pls ignore time stamps)

disclaimer: spelling and grammar mistakes are included ♡ 

↳ warnings: swear words, mentions of bullying

jimin x reader x jungkook au; fakedating!au

Y/n and Jimin have been best friends since they were five. Along the way of their friendship, y/n happens to fall in love with said bestfriend. Will she ever tell him? sure… when she’s six feet under. This is a secret that she’s prepared to take to the grave. Even if she believes that Jimin is the only guy for her, she’s convinced herself that he does not and will not feel the same. So she keeps quiet and copes with her feelings the best way that she can. Then comes this bunny smiled boy who doesn’t believe in staying in the background. Jungkook wants to make the best of his life and live on with no regrets. When Jungkook finds out y/n’s dilemma, he goes out of his way to set the two up together as he believes that there’s absolutely no way that Jimin doesn’t have feelings for her. What’s the emotion that brings out unknown feelings more than any other? jealousy. Let’s hope, for the sake of y/n, that Jungkook’s idea goes according to plan.

prologue

1 - i wasn’t yelling???

2 - but not baby arms :(

3 - you have a thing for tattoos??

4 - i thought you were smart

5 - press f to pay respects

6 - don’t. make. the baby. s a d.

7 - that.. was kind of weird

8 - he’ll take care of you

9 - i have A PLAN

10 - and live

11 - i thought about it

12 - i showed you my penis

13 - stress free fluff balls

14 - we noticed.

15 - but who won in the end???

16 - punchable face

17 - happy to help

18 - for the sake of the plan

19 - knowing what you know

20 - good chance

21 - completely platonic

22 - bunny bf

23 - just a nickname

24 - i won’t hurt him

25 - phase 2

26 - wholeheartedly

27 - i know angel, i know

28 - be like you

29 - the mandacity

30 - foot fetish

31 - just once

32 - it’s all worth it

33 - perfect for eachother

34 - the happy couple

35 - for all time

36 - babygirl

37 - what if i am?

38 - i’m sorry i can’t be her

39 - use a microwave

40 - right headspace

41 - it’s a date

42 - boom boom

43 - i’m gonna throw up

44 - i’m your boyfriend

45 - you feel safe

46 - never seen

47 - okay daddy

48 - 방탄소년단

49 - i pulled away

50 - what if

51 - i know i’m not

52 - congratulations

53 - i love him but i broke him

54 - i wanted it to be you

thank you, colmar | myg

⇢ pairing: yoongi x reader

⇢ genre: drabble, established relationship, so much fluff it could be mistaken for a cloud…., very mild angst, long distance relationship, writer!yoongi

⇢ word count: 4.5k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, this is very PG to be honest

⇢ summary: long distance was a challenging feat to take on, though you and yoongi were sure you two would be the exception. since his leave, you had been counting down the days, hours, and minutes until you finally got the chance to visit him. little did you know, this visit was going to become the most memorable weekend of your life.

a/n: i can’t even explain myself i’m SORRY…. but i am literally the softest yoongi stan ever known to man. it had to be done. this was purely for my own indulgence lmao. also yoongi? france? a concept.

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