Sooo Good - Tumblr Posts
Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them, In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
super late for it BUT day 8 for cringetober, tumblr sexyman :3
yes its doc scratch
The new 2023 Haunted Mansion was Awesome!!! It was so funny! My family and I were having a great time in the theater.
And it was Spooky! I loved the genuine jumpscares I had. Don't get me wrong I wasn't out of my wits terrified. But the ghosts designs were right up my alley. And I genuinely jumped or gasped when some of the ghosts appeared, or lunged at the living. I felt like I was in the Haunted Mansion ride when the cart suddenly makes a sharp turn and you get a jolt of adrenaline. I LOVE that I felt that way. It was so cool that the movie made me feel like I was on a wonderful Disney ride.
!!!!SPOILERS!!!!SPOILERS!!!!SPOILERS!!!!
The set was amazing, and the costumes were stunning. And the ART! All the paintings on the wall being exactly how they usually are, and the police sketch! It was a perfect touch!
And the background lore of the Mansion was perfect. I love that they gave a different version of events then the 2003 Haunted Mansion. Don't get me wrong I love the first Haunted Mansion. It will always be beloved to me, because of how much I watched and enjoyed the movie growing up. But the two movies other then the setting really aren't comparable. The 2003 version is about a family struggling to appreciate eachother. The parents don't have time for eachother or their kids. And its only when the ghosts threaten to tear their family apart do they realize what they have. The 2023 story is all about already losing people. And how the living is struggling to move on, much like the ghosts. Both are trapped in a world of grief and are fighting for peace. I know that Gracey loosing his beloved was also a part of the original film, but it was really focused on now.
All in all giving us a fresh story with no heavy connection with the previous one is awesome. This new Haunted Mansion isn't just recycling, it's given us something new, but with a warm familiar feeling. I am so glad that this movie really holds its own.
Disney has had a bad habit of taking a story and recreating the same tale with the same heros and the same outcome. These movies just feel like something old, and bland. They lack the magic and charm that the originals had. But this story had different heros, a different Villan. And every bit as charming and lively as a Disney Tale should be. Overall it felt like a beautiful addition to a wonderful world.
And I can't forget how wonderfully sweet it is. It is jam packed with grief. The actors really know how to show their characters pain. And it shows healing. The characters acknowledge their grief, confront it, learn that they arent alone, and how to live again and find friendship and family. I loved every character, and they were all played to perfection.
I am extremely delighted with this movie and it's definitely a movie I will watch again and again. Every spooky season, and on those days that I just want something fun and good.
❤️ ⚱️🔮🎩
Mutant Mayhem Was So Radical Dude!!!
The New TMNT was so quirky and funny! Like all the jokes landed so well. Like I can't explain the level of comedic genius that I just watched.
It was a perfect blend of modern and retro. Especially the Animation! I loved the odd facial proportions and scratchy look of everything. It was cartoony, but also went back around to being accurate? Like nobody was perfect looking which made them look very human.
And the message of wanting acceptance, but also doing things for the sake of others, and not your own gain was lovely.
And you know what was really cool? All the Turtles felt well written in this. Each one of them was given funny lines, action hero moments, and there was never a point where one felt pushed around by the others. Sometimes shows and movies slip up and seem to favor one or two characters over the others, but I never got that feeling watching this. So that was really nice. All the boys were funny and joking around with eachother. They felt like brothers, equals, and a team. And Master splinter? ADORABLE! He was the sweetest dad ever. And when he saw how his behavior and choices were affecting the boys he changed and ugh, he was just so sweet.
I really think there should be another movie. There was a lot they could do to keep the story going.
It was just so good!!!
🐀🤎🐢💙🐢❤️🐢💜🐢🧡👩🏿🦰💛
LEO the netflix movie from Adam Sandler is ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE 💚💚💚🦎🐢
I had heard nothing about this movie, but I am so happy my family and I watched it. This little class pet was so charming and I am going to rewarch this all the time. All the songs, spoken jokes, and visual gags were just *chef's kiss 💋* It's a wonderful blend of older comedy and modern considerations. If there isn't a million memes from this movie then we are lost as a society.
And all the struggles the kids had, that Leo helped in his own way with, were just so wholesome and heartwrenching.
I really think parents, kids, and teachers are really going to like this movie. I don't know how this movie could have been done any better. It was perfect 👌
Also Adam's Sandlers daughters voiced two of the girls in the movie, and his wife voiced the mom of one of them, and that's just really sweet 🥰
I love Leo 💚 . I hope everyone loves this sweet 74 year old strange lizard just as much as I do!!!
And Squirtle too 🤎
***SPOILERS***SPOILERS***SPOILERS***
***SPOILERS***SPOILERS***SPOILERS***
Okay! I am just so excited about this movie. I love the rabid little gremlin kindergarteners🤣! The way they just swarm everything is amazing.
And how Leo and Squirtle only know 5th grade fractions and don't know how to add, or know the alphabet! 😆
And Leo singing to Mia that crying is weak and dumb, and Mia being so smart and showing Leo how crying is good. Leo didn't know how to help Mia so he just listened, and that helped🥺. And now Mia isn't afraid to cry, but also took Leo's advise to be stronger 😫 It's sooo pure.
Altar Boy [m]
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: cult!au, altarboy!jungkook, smut
Warnings: anti-religion pair, cult acts, doing inappropriate things in a church, fingering, degradation, explicit language, edging, oral, creampie, etc
Words: 5k
Plot Summary: Altar boys tend to serve a much higher purpose than lighting candles in the church, though those purposes may be seen as sinful in the eyes of god.
a/n: sorry of any misinterpretations of anything, this is ‘cult’ fic so keep that in mind. Enjoy.
Night has fallen and by now everyone had left the church. Near curfew, you could see through the glass windows, the orphans had started to race back to their rooms before the sisters would march around ordering them to sleep.
You were still in the church, merely picking up the fallen pamphlets and pushing the benches back into their original position ― when church finishes most tend to rush their way out, shoving the benches off centre which bothered the hell out of our head sister.
Whistling as you dusted the wooden benches blindly, it was dark and there were merely dim lights inside the hall. Mostly candles, some lamps glowing golden against the high walls.
Keep reading
⠀ ⠀ ── ☆ ⁺彡 nct dream as spiderman !
if you saw it the first time, no you didn't! 🫵😭 reposting this again to add something i missed in the first one. happy reading!! library.
ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ mark: ultimate spiderman. broken pecs and lame excuses. eating a sandwich against a skyscraper. homemade suit. attracting things with his webs (esp. you). quick reflex. stuttering. with great power comes great responsibility. yapping his adventures. “i can do this all day” energy. stacks of books and scrapped formulas for new types of web fluid. atlas carrying the weight of the world. falling in love with your best friend. stay up late saving the world... or the semester. confession on the roof of a building at sunset.
you're deposited at the top of a skyscraper with your heart beating a thousand times an hour thanks to the adrenaline sedating your senses. you feel dizzy... and alive as you catch your breath, bathing in the evening light where a masked man stands in front of you. he helps you regain your balance as you hear him laugh, his voice blown by the same wind that ruffles your hair. “yn.”
you're unable to react when your senses are drunk with the rush of joy, which is hard for you to catch the hesitation in his voice. “yes?”
you see him take off his mask and your breath freezes in your throat the moment he appears in front of you. mark, your lab partner. sunset bathes his face with a golden halo outlining his features and the light finds its way to his eyes, holding a plead.
“you know… it's okay if you like only spiderman.” he chuckles awkwardly and brushes his neck, “well, actually, spiderman is me, uh… but… i couldn't just let you kiss me if you didn't know it was me, in case it bothers you, i hope not. i hope you don't think i'm a creep or that i forcibly kissed you… actually, you kissed me..., well maybe it was bad that i kept going after you did, but i like you so maybe i did take advantage of the situation a little...—”
the last thing you notice is his eyes opening almost as soon as it takes for your feet to snap out of place and launch you towards him. his arms are waiting to hold you almost immediately and while you might be surprised by his quick reflexes, you can hardly think properly when you join your lips with his.
mark looks at you in awe before a smile rises on his lips as you smile. “spiderman, i'm so sorry, but i like someone.”
gloom tints his eyes, “do you?”
you hum, and even though you're kinda rejecting him, he lets you wrap your arms tighter around his neck. “his name is mark lee. and he's my lab partner before he's new york's friendly neighbor.”
ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ haechan: spiderman by accident. anti-hero. wired headphones. a random stop at a gas station for snacks. bruises and cuts. original anomaly. boyish teasing. upside down kiss. across the spiderverse suit. street smart. smugly comments. sneaking out after being grounded. “he looks worse than me.” grimaces when you cure a ugly looking wound. piles of love letters from admirers. quiet confession while you cure his wounds. strawberry lollipop. enemies to lovers. stay up for a late night swinging around the city with you.
the knocks on your window, though light (as if the person was instantly regretting it) were enough wake you up as you rushed out to open it.
on the other side awaited you an elusive shadow that remained static until you took his hand and ushered him into your room, and the night light finally caught his shattered suit.
“i had nowhere else to go, did i wake you?” his voice is soft and hoarse, and you really give him points for downplaying it when he repress flinchling when you touch the purple scrape on his chin. “it's not that bad.”
you make him sit up in bed and find it funny how he tries to do it because he starts stirring as if he's afraid of ruining the sheets. “i'll treat them.”
“don't bother.” he makes a pretense of continuing to talk until he notices the severity on your face and your decision to do so, and more importantly, notice how your eyes run all over his body taking into account all the cuts that show the destroyed suit on his skin. “he looks worse than me.”
you frown y and avoid looking so affected, keeping yourself busy looking for the gauze and alcohol, and then sitting next to him to begin healing the cuts on his chest. you work slowly and carefully, he doesn't say anything until you finish.
his hands grasp yours when you falter as they brush against his neck. “i'd like to keep it on.”
“is it because you don't trust me?”
“it's because i'm scared you won't like me once you find out who i am.” his voice comes to you so soft and low.
you seek his eyes, you make him see. your feelings, your emotions; you take his hand and guide it to your heart. “i'll never stop liking you, lee donghyuck.”
ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ jaemin: the sidekick who got superpowers. quiet extrovert's best friend. admiring the view of the setting sun. saving a kitten from a tree. visit at a nursing home. bingo in the afternoons. villains are friendly with him. classic suit. backward cap. funny clapbacks. “oh, it's just a scratch.” (frozen steak in black eye). subway ride home. eepy cats on a windowsill watching the falling snow. love at first sight. romantic telerage signal on the brooklyn bridge.
you had noticed that jaemin was acting strangely lately, but you couldn't imagine what you were about to discover when the screen of your phone showed his name. with a sigh, you answered, bracing yourself for another conversation full of excuses and evasions.
you kept moving down the crowded catwalk self-absorbed and a little troubled. "jaemin, we need to talk about—”
“yn, please, can you look to your right?” he interrupts with his voice full of nervousness and excitement.
confused but intrigued, you hang up and look to your side as your gaze took over the sunset of the city and the brooklyn bridge, taking up all the space, and just at that moment you notice that you were walking in a sea of static people, looking in amazement at a giant message formed by cobwebs that said: "i love you.”
the phone line remain silent until his calm voice fill your ears. “do you like it?”
your mouth feels dry and you can't string something coherent. between surprise and charm, you can barely articulate words. “are you friends with spiderman?!”
“what- no! better.”
better. does that mean… “are you his sidekick?!” that would explain why he has been absent from your date. that'd explain it all.
he laughs, and you sense a bit of struggle in his voice. “look left now.”
at that precise moment, a figure descends from the sky and with a jerk his arm wraps around your waist and your feet stop touching the ground. with a fluid movement, he pulls you both away from the cheering hustle and bustle and you squeeze more against him, watching the world blur and your whole body hum.
your eyes close and you let yourself be fully carried away by him, melted into the warm sensation that embraces you, until your feet touch the ground again. your mind feels light and your senses are put on alert when you look down and see how far the two of you are from the actual ground, holding him with hurry. “i got you.”
you look at him overcome by emotion and surprise and your eyes take note of jaemin's gentle features when he removes the mask. “i will always got you, baby.”
ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ jisung: wrong place at the wrong time. friendly neighbor doing errands for elderly people. clumsy swaying between buildings. awkward execution but good results. inner dialogues. thinking out loud. “from your friendly neighbor, spider-man”. shy giggles. stealing kisses. drinking soda on top of a moving subway. be late to class. stark enterprise intern. iron spider suit. meet up cute. confession by accident because he says something you said to jisung, not spiderman.
it might seem cute to him that you're so clueless if it weren't for the little problem that he was too and you were always in trouble because of it. in addition to that, it's not that he was an expert and a good performer, he was generally clueless as well; he sometimes wished he couldn't be in front of you.
you've crouched in a corner while he awkwardly fights a couple of thugs, and when he's done he's spent half his ration of cobwebs, knocked over a dumpster, and maybe has a rib or two bursts.
he laughs, he doesn't know why. maybe because he wants to soften your eyes open in alert as you hug your bag tightly. some belongings have fallen to the ground thanks to the forcing, and jisung picks them up as he makes his way to you. “are you okay, ma'am?” the unopened box of pasty colors lies wet when he picks it up. “ew…”
“no! my crayons.” his gaze shoots up at you as you emerge from your stupor, just as you see that your journey to the tool store has been in vain.
jisung helps you pick up what can be saved, until your eyes stay glued to the ground, looking for something as he remembers what. “your notebook.” it was the first thing he caught with his webs before it fell to the wet floor of the alley, because he knows how important it is for you.
a pair of cobwebs hold it in place on the wall when he peels it off. “thanks!” you smile and he thanks the mask for hiding he does it too.
“thank you, spiderman. and i'm sorry, i know it's dangerous going out so late… i just needed to buy more paint.”
“right, your art project.”
he doesn't even realize what a gaffe he's made in time. it's not when he takes his eyes off your notebook and watches you look at him with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. “eh… well, i assume it is, cause why i would know. not that i know … okay! i hope you arrive safe at home, i gotta go,” he says the words too fast and trips over the container on his way out.
“i see you in class tomorrow.”
“okay!— i mean, no, no. i don't even go to brooklyn visions.” he incriminates himself more and more as he speaks. “totally don't see me there, cause i don't even go to school.” jesus christ, he really wish he could shut up once and for all.
ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ jeno: intern at oscorp co. bitten by an upgraded spider because he's a little clumsy. social butterfly. lowkey popular at school. non-prescription glasses. nyu hoodie. crush on the quiet girl from his math class. “one last call”. hybrid suit. stolen kisses. last man standing. lost backpacks. wants to redeem the villains. she fell first but he fell harder. being snatched away for him. accidental confession because you joked that he was spiderman.
it was known that after a few catches at fast-paced people would begin to suspect. jeno had to seriously get his spider senses in order and stop acting before he could think, but it was almost impossible for him to do so when it came to you.
it was the fourth time he'd caught something before it fell to the ground that day, and even if you apologized for being so clumsy, jeno was frustrated because he couldn't not do so; suddenly, he wanted to protect you from everything.
he likes it, and maybe it had to do with him liking you.
god, he wasn't very good with words, and he might be a little silly because he can't show it with actions either. and he spends all day looking for a way to get you to agree to go out with him and he may also spend his time imagining scenarios where you don't like him back, and it scares him.
and that's why he doesn't have time to register that he needs to be careful when the enriched senses strike because you're always in your head, and he just catches a beaker of precipitation inches off the ground.
“wow,” you say and something tingles inside, like it was trying to warn him. “you're spiderman, aren't you?”
perhaps it was telling him to keep his big mouth shut.
jeno looks at you dumbfounded and suddenly he can't spin a coherent thought while you stare at him with those eyes ‘cause then he can think properly. “how d'you know?”
he wants to hit himself right there when you suppress a smile because it is at that moment that the possibility arises that perhaps you didn't know and that maybe (not sure yet) it was a joke.
actually… he could downplay it and flip it if it weren't for the fact that a light bulb finally light up above his head, because maybe he could... take advantage of spiderman's charms for the first time. “i am spiderman.”
but then he says it so weird that you start laughing and he thinks you think he's joking, “dead serious.” his eyes follow you chuckling a lot and he can't help but smile too, until you stop all of a sudden.
maybe you didn't know... fuck, he's screwed up very bad this time.
ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ chenle: rich boy experimenting in his father's laboratory. vigilante. sassy retorts. unpremeditated actions. advance suit 2.0. savior of the girl in distress. knocks on your window at midnight. finger guns. “that's the best you can do?”. childhood friends to lovers. vengeful. misunderstood. traitor trope. the sound of a thunderstorm. whispers at 3 am. random hugs. mean to everyone but you. no confession needed when you know your bestfriend fully.
the buildings pass on either side of you like a gray blur as you swing like a bullet through the air, your hair dances in the warm breeze and makes it harder for you to see clearly the one who holds you tightly and safe as he takes you somewhere protected from danger.
there's fear sitting in your chest that begins to fade as his swaying lulls you and you close your eyes letting yourself go until your feet touch solid ground.
“are you okay?” you hear his voice muffled by the mask, “are you hurt?” he says again, now with a tinge of alertness in his voice when your grip don't let go.
and he allows you. he doesn't let you go, and you don't want him either. and as the adrenaline goes down and dissolves in your system, your other senses resurface and even though your fear comes back something triggers in your mind. something... familiar.
you separate yourself from him with thousands of sensations crossing your features as you study the mask. your eyes drenched in something akin to shock and revelation as your hand reaches out the hem. “don't.”
his hands grab yours to keep you from lifting it up. “chenle,” you pronounce with a heartbeat, and his grip loosens.
his face is revealed underneath the cloth and you hold your breath as his closed eyes slowly begin to open. “how did you know it was me?”
“you're my best friend.”
ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ renjun: a radioactive spider missing at a science convention. spidey senses. overly intuitive. scrapped prototypes. city at dusk. gliding in the sky. leap of fate. upgraded suit. late summer nights. string lights. origami stars. sign language. sidewalk chalk drawings. not a quitter. “i am nothing without the suit”. skateboard tracks. volumes and mixtapes. scrapped knees. humming a lost song. self-sacrifice. exes to lovers. he removes his mask without knowing you're sitting on his bed.
he had mastered and perfected his technique of not making noise when entering his room. he knew the gears on the front door would make noise, so he opted for the window. the fire escape led him to the tenth floor where he slipped into the room by climbing up the ceiling.
he almost screams victory, taking off his mask, before his enriched senses tell him something isn't right, almost at the same fraction of a second when you drops with a pronounced daze the lego sculpture and it shatters on the floor. “you're spiderman.” more of a rectification than a question as if you couldn't believe it. “oh, my god. you're spiderman.”
he comes to you and hushes you. “yn! what are you doing in my room!?” your mouth opens in amazement before your features are bathed in disbelief.
“you told me to come!” he puts a hand in your mouth and the unexpected approach makes you hesitate.
“alright, alright…” he says in a whisper. “be quiet, yeah?” he asks, looking into your eyes. “don't freak out.” you nod, “seriously, i can tell you'll scream the moment i remove my hand, so promise me.” he removes his hand and awaits for your reaction.
you're puzzled, “you're spiderman…,” you breathe and he grins smugly before you hit him not so lightly.
renjun puts a hand to his mouth after letting out a sound more outraged than painful. “you're spiderman and you didn't think to tell me?”
“well… i was thinking of telling you…”
“i kissed you!? spiderman and renjun!” you say, almost stupefied. “didn't you think to tell me you were the same person? i was planning on rejecting you!” when you're done, you're just left breathing artificially, and you look at him in disbelief when he doesn't say anything.
his mouth opens slowly when he sees you waiting for something. “i was afraid you'd say that.”
you frown and stay there confused by his words.
“you're telling me that you lied to me because you were afraid? afraid of what?”
“i was afraid you'd pick him.”
“renjun, what are you talking about?” you sigh, exhausted of lies.
“of spiderman. i'm nothing without the suit. no one paid attention to me when i was a nobody.”
“i did!”
jc leyendecker’s man reading but it’s dankovsky :-)
instagram + commissions
Had to share this again! Love me some devil Yoongi💯🤌🏽
The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG
Title: The Devil Wears Valentino
Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff
Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 10,488
Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM
A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!
A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much
A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....
Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.
Intimate. That would be a better choice.
From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.
The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.
You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.
He’ll be back for another soon.
While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.
Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.
Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.
And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.
Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.
Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.
Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.
Most of the time.
You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.
“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”
“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.
Fucking incubi demons…
You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.
You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.
You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”
Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.
Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.
They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.
It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.
You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.
“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.
And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.
“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”
There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.
“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.
It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.
Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.
Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.
Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.
It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.
He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.
“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”
To which you think again, fucking incubi…
Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.
You learned your lesson.
So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!
You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.
From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.
Which can only mean one fucking thing.
You just lost all your tips for the night.
Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.
Fuck.
“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.
“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.
You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.
“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’
You know exactly where it is.
No one else will touch it.
Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.
No one serves him but you.
But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.
You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.
You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.
After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,
“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”
He didn’t take another breath.
A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.
“Thanks,” You’d said.
“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.
Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.
But he was more than pleased.
After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.
He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.
Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.
A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.
Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;
‘One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.’
You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.
‘Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth,’
You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.
“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”
He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”
You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.
“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”
He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”
“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”
You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.
No one calls the Devil by his first name.
Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.
And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.
No one except you.
What a funny little exception you are.
Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”
You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.
You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.
“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.
Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.
“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.
He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…
“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.
Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.
You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.
Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…
Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.
You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.
The King of Hell.
He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.
Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.
Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.
He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.
You have to stay away from him.
But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.
As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.
There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.
“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”
Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.
Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.
The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.
Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.
You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.
All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.
And maybe he is.
But not to you.
The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.
You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.
The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.
And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.
It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.
You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.
Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.
They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.
All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.
Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.
Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.
You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.
You needed this.
A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.
You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.
“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.
“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.
You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”
Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.
In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.
Yoongi.
God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.
Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.
Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.
And he looks like sin incarnate.
Fitting.
Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?
Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.
Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.
When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.
Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.
Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.
They were all you.
Maybe his plan was working after all…
“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.
What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”
He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.
“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.
A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.
“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”
Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.
Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.
Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.
You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.
“What do you think?”
Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.
“May I touch?”
You don’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.
“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.
This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”
Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.
Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.
The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.
“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..
Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.
Beautiful.
“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.
“My birthstone,” you reply.
“Your birthstone.”
You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.
“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.
Makes you wonder what he promised.
Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.
Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.
Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.
Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.
What is he doing to you?
“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.
“Mmm?”
“Would you like to dance?”
Fuck would you ever, but wait—
“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.
Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?”
“Yes.”
You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.
Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.
Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.
They don’t know about Yoongi.
They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.
You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.
You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.
You’ve decided.
To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.
To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.
You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.
But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.
“Let’s go to yours.”
“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”
Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.
“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.
Fuck, you don’t want to wait.
And apparently neither does Yoongi.
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“Yes, but what does tha–”
“Close your eyes for me, Love.”
Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.
So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.
You trust Yoongi.
“That's a good girl.”
One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.
Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?
But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.
What?
“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.
Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.
“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.
Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.
He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.
“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”
You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.
There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.
Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.
Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.
“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.
He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.
Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.
You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”
You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.
“Please what, Love?”
“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”
“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”
“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.
“There she is.”
Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.
They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.
Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.
“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”
His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”
You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.
“I need to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“Understand what?” He pushes.
“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.
“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.
The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.
“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”
Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”
He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.
“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”
Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”
His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.
“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.
Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.
If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.
Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.
“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”
He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.
He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.
“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.
“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.
He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.
“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”
Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.
“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”
“And if I do?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”
Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”
“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.
And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.
Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.
Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.
“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.
Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.
“Fuck—”
Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.
“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”
Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.
“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”
The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.
Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.
“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”
His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.
You’re the most powerful person here.
You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.
And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.
“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.
Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.
“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”
His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.
“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”
“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.
You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.
Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.
This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.
This is about you.
And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.
You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.
You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.
Perfect in every single way.
“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”
He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.
“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”
You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”
“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.
“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.
“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”
The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.
Not yet.
You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.
Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.
Ever.
And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.
He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.
There was only you.
Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.
And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.
It’s time for him to finally claim you back.
“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”
“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”
Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.
“Only for you, Yoongi.”
His thrusts stutter.
“Fuck!”
He’s coming.
He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.
It’s the first time he’s said your name.
And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.
You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need.
It’s yours.
He’ll make it so.
At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.
He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.
You got exactly what you wanted.
He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.
And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.
“What changed?”
“Hmm?”
“What about tonight made you change your mind?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”
That seductive smirk makes an appearance.
“Yes.”
“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”
Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.
“Next time,” he says. A promise.
You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”
He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.
“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”
“My soul?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ve never asked for mine before.”
“Never needed it.”
At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”
“You.”
Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.
You just know it.
“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”
You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.
You never expected anything like that.
You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.
Kindness. Patience.
The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.
Because of you.
“I don't know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”
You can do that.
“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.
Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.
“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.
“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.
He was yours now.
The Devil was yours.
King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.
“Oh thank fuck.”
“Not thank God?” you tease.
Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”
A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
positions
pairing: ot7 x gender neutral!reader
all characters are adults, minors dni.
warning: mild yandere themes, explicit n*fw, unprotected sex, mild degradation, oral, mild objectification, overstimulation.
Czytaj dalej
all the young dudes carry the news!
How come no one is talking about this piece!?!?!?!?!
Bloodletting (Mini Masterlist)
Author: @yeoldontknow Pairing: Taehyung x Reader (oc; female) Genre: Vampire!AU; horror; thriller; suspense; drama; eventual smut Rating: R - NC-17 Warnings: graphic depictions of violence; graphic depictions of blood; explicit sex; breathplay; explicit language; character death - *please take every chapter warning seriously Summary: Taehyung sees little purpose in humanity these days, engages with the act of courting simply because it’s part of the hunt. He likes to think you will be different. You probably won’t.
Keep reading
Another SFM redraw, this time from @mint-buni (on Tumblr).
I just really liked how the shadows looked on that particular piece.
Process here:
Our Time | JJK (One)
Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?
Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader
Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???
Word Count: 14.4k
Warnings: swearing, alcohol, mention of face riding, going through changes
a/n: hi hi im so nervous. but also so excited to start this series. really hoping yall will give it a chance bc its gonna be my best one yet (hopefully lmao) and if this interests you pls let me know! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]
© taestefully-in-luv
Next
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your reflection is lying. It must be. This isn’t you or who you know yourself as…still, even with the physical evidence, you are doubtful that the person staring back at you in this mirror is even someone you recognize. This very reflection has nine years over you…nine years you know nothing about.
But you’ve had almost two weeks now to get used to this new reflection. Your hair is different, your clothes are different, even your skin feels different. And once your eyes meet your reflection you feel different. Your face is different yet it is still the same. Yes, it’s the same. But it has nine years sticking to it. And that might take more than just a couple of weeks to get totally accustomed to.
Imagine you are 24 years old and when you wake up you are in a hospital bed with doctors questioning you with no mercy. And imagine that you take note of everyone’s paling faces when you tell them you are 24 and the year is 2014. And imagine the feeling of your heart dropping into the most empty stomach when your parents walk into the room and they don’t look how you remember. Gray hair and fine wrinkles that have become more and more prominent.
And imagine your bright, doe eyed best friend comes into the room as well and he becomes more evidence for you to question your reality. His once long, wavy hair is chopped into a short cut and his face looks thin and his eyes look weary. Imagine being told the year is 2023 and you are actually 33 years old.
Well, you don’t have to imagine. This is your reality.
That’s right. Naturally, your first thought was that something happened to you when you were 24 and you’re now just waking up. The heartache of missing an entire nine years of your life feels pitiful. But it turns out you have only been in a coma for three months. And you did live those nine years…you just don’t remember them.
33 but your soul is 24. 33 but you don’t even know how you celebrated being a ‘quarter’ for your 25thbirthday. 33 but you don’t even have the memory of mourning your 20’s once you turned 30. 33 but you don’t even remember undoubtedly crying about the first gray hair on top of your head. 33 but you are 24.
Every little thing about you slips through the cracks and crevices of your brain, a whole nine years of your life somehow lost inside this electric goo. You stare into the mirror and wonder about who you are now. The doctors are cautious with how much information your poor little traumatized brain receives and it’s relieving but also annoying. You imagine how overwhelming it could be to get told about nine years of your life that you have zero clue about. Would anything even sound real? But you’re also so curious.
“Alright, miss y/n.” One of the doctors, Dr. Lee, that has been working with you comes inside the room. “We just have a few more exams today and then you are free to do what you’d like.”
“You mean in the comfort of this hospital room?” You shut the compact mirror closed and toss a glance at the doctor, “If I was really free, you’d let me go home.”
“Let you go home? But then I would be so bored miss y/n.” He chuckles, coming next to you. His fingers fiddle with the IV in your arm before resting a clipboard against his chest as he writes on it. “You are keeping the other doctors and I so busy.”
“Oh really?” You narrow your eyes at him while you try to keep a playful smirk at bay. “I asked one of the nurses for some spicy chips and she totally forgot. Never got my chips!”
“Well, according to your charts, last year you dealt with some pretty bad gastritis. Spicy chips might be your end.”
“Damn, they weren’t kidding…” You laugh to yourself before leaning your head back onto the hospital pillow. “It’s all downhill after you turn 30, huh?”
“Hey,” Dr. Lee lift his eyes to you, his pen still working against the paper. “I’m almost 50 and my life is fantastic. You just need to eat right and exercise and you’ll—”
“—That’s fantastic? God, I could eat 3 bags of spicy chips in a row, drink an entire case of beer and somehow eat some cakes right after and I never got sick. You’re saying I can’t even eat one bag of chips now without my body complaining?”
Dr. Lee chuckles, his head shaking as he finishes writing on the clipboard. “I’m not saying you couldn’t. I’m just saying things might be different now.”
You blow out a puff of air as you open the compact mirror again and you steal a glance at your reflection, “Yeah, no kidding.”
“Plus, I’ve been working with your parents to get your discharge ready.” Dr. Lee sets his clipboard down and he smiles. “It seems they’ve worked out a plan with your friend, Jungkook. My guess is another day or two so bear with me miss y/n.”
“Day or two?” You groan while a smile tugs at your lips. “Why not today?”
“Because today you still have examinations!”
“Anyway, where are my parents and Jungkook? Still at lunch?”
“No, no.” Dr. Lee shakes his head, “I believe your parents came back already but your friend had some things to do. But he did tell me to tell you he will see you later before visiting hours are over.”
“Liar.” You scoff to yourself, “He says things to do but I bet you he’s just going home to take a nap after eating.”
Dr. Lee tries not to frown but his lips betray him. “Well, I wouldn’t be against him getting some extra rest.” He tells you, “He has been here every single day since your accident and I’m not sure he slept very much.” And then Dr. Lee clears his throat and motions for you to get up from the bed and into the wheelchair he brought. “Anyway, let’s head to another room for your first exam. Your parents will be around when we are all done.”
“Okay, okay.” You smile at the doctor, “Also, you know I can walk, right?”
“Ah, but this is more fun.”
~
“Can’t believe just one more day and I am out of this prison!” You yawn out as you stretch your arms over your head. “Longest two weeks of my life.”
Your mom sighs out with the roll of her eyes, “It’s been more than two weeks for the rest of us. This is nothing.” She then smiles, her hand going to your shoulder. “Anyway, it’s your last night in this hospital bed. We can celebrate?”
“Celebrate? Leaving this amazing bed?” You show her a half smile. “I am going to miss it.” You tell her sarcastically but she joins in. Where do you think you learned it from?
“I bet you are.” She nods enthusiastically. “What are these sheets? At least 600 thread count?”
“I think they’re even temperature regulated.” You glance down, your fingers spreading over the very obvious cheap cotton. “You think they’ll notice if I steal them?”
“Well,” Your mother looks over at your father who just shakes his head with a quiet chuckle. “We won’t tell on you.” She looks back at you and winks.
“Wow,” You widen your eyes at your mother and father, “Who knew my parents were such ride or dies?”
“I don’t know what that means.” You father speaks up, peeking over his book. “Does this mean we would die for you?”
“Basically.” You shrug, “You’d stick by my side no matter what.” Then you whisper dramatically, “Even when I commit crime.”
“Well, you’d be horrible at committing crime and getting away with it. Do you even notice when you have witnesses?” Your mother tilts her head towards the nurse who is just on your other side, messing with one of the machines that is connected to you.
“Ah dang.” You look at the nurse who is stifling her own laughter and say, “That is unfortunate.”
“Don’t worry, you’ve been a favorite patient of ours.” Nurse Choi’s eyes fall to you, they’re kind yet playful. “I won’t tell either.”
“Wow.” You nod at her, impressed.
“Speaking of not telling,” Nurse Choi walks across the room and digs into a basket she brought in with her before she is pulling something out. “If you tell Dr. Lee I gave you these…” She walks back towards you when your eyes go wide in pleasant surprise when you spot the bag of spicy chips.
“On my last day!” You reach for the chips, “I guess I can properly celebrate my last night in this prison.” Then you whip your head in your parent’s direction. “See? This is an example of a ride or die.”
“Someone just has to sneak you some chips and you think you’re bonded for life or what?” Your mom cocks a brow at you, “I’m your mother! I am the most ride or die there is.”
“Did you sneak me chips?”
“Well, no—”
“—Mom or not…” You cut her off with a grin, “You failed your only daughter.”
“I’m sure your two sisters would love to hear that coming from you.” Your mom conceals a smile, trying her best not to crack and laugh.
“Well, my two sisters and I haven’t spoken since I was 18 so…and according to you that hasn’t changed in the last nine years.”
Your father clears his throat, clearly feeling uncomfortable. “Anyway, sweetheart, why don’t we do something fun? Want to play a game? Watch a movie?”
“Why don’t we wait for Jungkook?” You lean back onto the bed, eyes going to your fingers as you inspect your cuticles. “He fell asleep yesterday and didn’t come in time for visiting hours.”
“I’m glad he’s gotten some rest.” Your mom takes a deep breath. “I’ve been so worried for him, you know?” She asks this in your father’s direction. He only frowns in response.
You feel the slight pang of guilt hit your chest, like someone is knocking against your ribcage from the inside. Jungkook, your best friend since the first week of college. That isn’t where you two met but it’s where you two finally became friends. He has been your best friend for the last six years—well, fifteen years—but nine of those years are lost on you.
“I know it hasn’t been easy on any of you…” You mumble quietly, “I’m sorry for all of this…”
“Honey, what are you doing?” Your mom’s voice is soft enough to know she feels for you but on the edge of scolding to where you know she’s serious. “The accident was not your fault. Just some asshole hit and run.”
“Yeah but you guys had to deal with all the stress while I slept like a baby.” You try to lighten the mood with a harmless joke but your mom’s expression twists.
“Of course it hasn’t been easy. It still isn’t.” She admits, “But—”
“—But,” You father cuts in, voice soft while your mom looks at him gratefully. “What matters is that you’ve woken up. And you’re here. The rest is something we can work through…your memories will return with time but we can’t rush it…the doctor says you could get overwhelmed.”
“I know.” You sigh out, “But okay, tell me again, some of the things I want to know?”
Your parents glance at the nurse who gives an unsure smile and small nod to her head.
“Which are?” Your mom looks at you again.
“Okay, so I am working woman.” You begin counting on your fingers, “I am not married. I’m still friends with Misuk and Subin. Do I at least have a boyfriend?” You put your hand down. “Oh and I live in a house now. Wow, so adult.”
Your mom stares at you, the expression in her eyes betray her trying smile. “All correct. You work from home though…but they aren’t expecting you to come back for some time.”
“I still cannot believe I work from home!” You suddenly smile, “That means I never have to get out of my pajamas.”
Your mom continues to stare, eyes still betraying the smile that continues to grow on her face. She looks conflicted. Another pang out guilt hits your chest. You’ve come to pick up on this specific expression…your dad has also shown you it and Jungkook has too. The expression that screams how sad they are but their smiles hold their joy.
“You okay?” You reach for your moms hand and she releases a shaky breath.
“Yes,” She shakes her head as she tries to clear her throat and show you another smile. “It’s just…you said the exact same thing a few years ago when you started working from home. Truth be told, you weren’t excited to be home all the time but you looked at the positive,” She chuckles now, “That you could wear your pajamas while working.”
“…I did?” You blink at her. Absolutely no recollection. And you know she sees the emptiness behind your eyes. “How old was I when I started working from home?”
“Uh,” Your mom looks down at her lap, her throat feeling a slight burn but she ignores it. “Oh when was it?” She wonders to herself.
“I believe you were 28.” Your father answers. He finally closes his book and sets it down to your bed. “Eh, you know us old people can’t remember every little detail.”
“Hey!” You grin at your parents as you try to lighten the mood again. “I’m the one who is supposed to have memory problems!”
Both of your parents crack a smile, “Well, that’s why you have Jungkook.” Your mom’s smile finally looks real again. “The doctor says since he is the person you’ve spent the most time with that he is probably the one who could trigger a lot of memories naturally.”
“Well,” You lean against the hospital pillow again, “He does know me the best.”
“He does.” Your father agrees, “He’s always been a good guy and even when we couldn’t be here…he was. Every single day he came and stayed with you during your coma.”
“I know, I know.” You don’t mean to have an edge to your voice. “I feel bad about it. Obviously.”
“y/n…” Your mom’s voice is back to scolding. “You should feel blessed that you have people in your life who would do that for you.”
“I know.” You say a bit more softly this time. “How blessed am I though? I don’t even know—”
“—Why does it matter?” Your mom cuts in, cold. “You’re alive. My prayers have been answered.”
“Well, why don’t you pray that I suddenly get my memories back?”
“Maybe God intended for it—”
“—Oh please.” You say dryly. “Right, because this is the better life.”
Your mom stares at you, no smile for her sad eyes to betray. She finally tears her eyes off of you to glance at your father who offers her some sort of comforting smile. You feel the pang of guilt again. You know this has been hard on everyone but damn, you think it’s you who deserves the ‘comfort smile’.
“Anyway,” You tilt your head up towards the ceiling, eyes closed. “I think—Ow! Fuck!” You suddenly yelp when you open your eyes and the lights on the ceiling are blaring down into your eyes. You’re quick to shield your face with your hands. You forgot how sensitive you are to light now thanks to all the head trauma.
Your mom stands just as quick, her hands on your cheeks, thumb brushing against your cheekbones. “You okay? y/n?” She sounds worried.
“I’m…I’m fine…” You lower your head again, eyes still closed as you continue to shield your face. “Sorry for cussing. I just—”
Your mother snorts to herself, “You’re 33, y/n.”
“Oh yeah.” You laugh bitterly, “Guess so.”
Your mom continues to stroke your skin with her thumbs, worried eyes staying on you. Your father is also gripping your ankle from over the hospital blanket. “You guys don’t need to baby me.” You finally open your eyes again, the sensitivity finally easing.
“Let us.” Your father offers a weak smile.
“Yeah.” Your mom uses the back of her hand to barely skid over your cheek. Then she sits again. “You’ve really grown up on us and I haven’t been able to baby you in years…so let us.”
You soften at their admission. You assume she’s right. You’re technically all grown up now. Your parent’s don’t even live in Seoul but in Busan. And they’ve paused their lives to be here for you but so has—
“—Hey.”
And just like magic, the same feeling that has drowned you for the past two weeks has returned. Jungkook looks slightly out of breath, his hand resting against the door way as he grins at you. “Hi.” You return his smile with one of your own. “Surprised you showed up. Figured you were too busy.” Then you raise your nose in the air as Jungkook chuckles while walking inside.
You are having trouble with your own reflection, yes. But you are also having trouble with this view. Jungkook is a whole nine years older than you remember. He’s filled out more, body packed with lean muscles and more tattoos that decorate his skin with his own art. His eyes are tired and his jaw is sharp and his once long hair is now short. Maturity is dripping from his features. And you are not used to it.
“I should have figured you were going to complain that I didn’t show up yesterday.” He comes next to your parents, offering his greetings. “I’m sorry! I fell asleep and by the time I woke up the visiting hours were over.”
“God, it’s almost sad how well I know you.”
“Well, at least some things never change.” Your mom speaks up, obvious joy laced in her tone. “We were just babying our daughter. I’m sure you can guess how she was dealing with it.”
“Oh, right.” Jungkook glances at you before looking at your parents again.
“I swear if you mock me—”
“—You don’t need to baby me!” Jungkook shows your parents an exaggerated pout on his lips, his hands wiping away imaginary tears.
“I say don’t mock me and he mocks me. Classic.” You roll your eyes but your lips curve into a satisfied smile.
“Like I said,” Your mom barely scoffs, heading shaking. “Some things never change.”
Jungkook can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, something excited but also content. He walks to the other side of the room to grab another chair and he drags it across the tiled floor until it’s placed right next to you on the side of the bed that Nurse Choi is on. Jungkook looks at her with a smile and she greets him.
“I see the best friend is here.” Nurse Choi puts a hand on your shoulder, “Okay, y/n. Your last dose of the good stuff going directly into your veins. Enjoy it because you’ll be missing it once you’re home again.” She giggles.
“Ugh,” You playfully groan, “How will I survive?”
Everyone laughs but you blink, expression suddenly falling flat. “No, I’m serious.”
“Oh.” Nurse Choi blinks at you in return before laughing. “Right. No worries, Doctor Lee sent over some pretty strong pain relievers to the pharmacy.”
“He did mention that….” Jungkook waits for the nurse to leave your side before he sits in the chair. “When will they be ready again? I’m the one who is picking them up.”
“Doctor Lee will have a whole set of instructions for you, Jungkook.” Nurse Choi tells him. “He—”
“Aren’t I the patient?” You wonder aloud, “Shouldn’t it be me who gets this set of instructions?”
Nurse Choi softens her features as she eyes you, “You will receive them too. But…y/n…Jungkook is going to be your main helper…right?” She glances at your parents and Jungkook. All three nod. “So, it is important he knows everything. You aren’t going to be totally adjusted for a while.”
“Really looking forward to that.” You huff out, any ounce of excitement totally void from your words.
“Anyway, you’re all set for the rest of the day. I’ll come check on you periodically but this is pretty much it. You get to leave tomorrow! How exciting!” Nurse Choi grins at everyone in the room, “I’ll leave you all to it then.” And then she is walking away, closing the hospital room door behind her.
“So,” You release a long breath. “What even is the full plan?”
“Well,” Your father shares a look with your mom and Jungkook. “Unfortunately, your mom and I have to return to Busan…if we could stay long—”
“—No, I get it.” You cut him off softly. “You guys have an entire life to get back to.”
Your dad pauses, a solemn expression creeping on his face. “You are our life too.” He assures you. “But it’s important we all get back to a normal routine, you know?” He steals a glance at your mother who is now giving him the ‘comfort smile’.
“We thought we could just take you to Busan until things…” Your mom trails off, unsure of her own words. “But Jungkook made a good point.”
“Which was?” You ask slowly, eyes sliding to the side as you look at Jungkook.
“Jungkook is probably the person who could be the most help to you.” Your mom answers, almost sounding hurt that it couldn’t be her. “And your life in Seoul as well.”
“That makes sense.” You agree easily, “Jungkook has always been pretty logical.”
“Thank goodness too.” Jungkook looks at you knowingly, “One of us had to have a brain.”
“Mom? Dad?” You snap your head towards your parents, feigning annoyance. “Are you hearing this? He is insulting me!”
Your mom rolls her eyes, “We all know Jungkook saved you too many times in college. Plus, he basically had to force you to come home to Busan during the holidays. So he’s allowed an insult or two.”
“Wow.” You stare at your mom, betrayed. “Dad?”
Your father raises a hand, silently asking you leave him out of this.
“Didn’t y/n graduate because of me?” Jungkook continues to tease. “Completely different departments yet she was still having me do her homework.”
“That was one time, Jungkook. And I was sick!”
“You weren’t sick. You were hungover.” He deadpans.
“Anyway,” Your mom clears her throat, glancing towards her husband. “I’m craving something to drink…maybe a juice or a tea?”
“I was thinking coffee. Should I go grab us something?” You dad responds quickly, “You two want anything either?” He asks you and Jungkook.
“I’ll just go with you.” Your mom begins to stand from her chair. “I can decide when I see my options.”
“Okay.” Your father nods, standing as well. “Nothing for you both?”
“I’m good.” You glance at Jungkook who is rejecting the offer as well.
“You sure?” Your mom links her arm through your dads as they stroll out of the room. “We will be back then.”
As soon as the rooms door has shut behind your parents, you continue to only gaze at the door. Coughing awkwardly as your eyes roam around the opposite side of the room that Jungkook occupies.
“It’s been two weeks, y/n.” You hear Jungkook mumble from beside you. “Why is it that when we’re alone you completely avoid me?”
“I’m not avoiding you.” You whistle, “Just chillin.”
“Make eye contact with me then.”
“Gross.”
“Look at me.” Jungkook sings out cutely, “Come on.”
“I’m capable.” You roll your eyes before finally shifting them in his direction. “It’s just weird.”
“How is it weird exactly?”
“Because you look…different.” You mumble lamely as you gesture towards him. “You’re older than I remember so it’s kind of weird.”
“You’re also older than you remember.” He points out innocently but you give him an unimpressed look.
“No shit. And it’s fucking weird!” You whine, clearly making your point.
“So,” Jungkook stretches out in his seat, his long legs spreading out and lifting above the floor as you imagine he is wiggling his toes. Even with nine years having past…he still does this. “You say I look different but is different bad?” He throws a look your way, an eyebrow lifted in curiosity.
“I never said it was bad.” Well, maybe it is…perspective. “You just look different.”
Hot. Handsome. Sexy. Cute? Adorable? Fine as hell?
Jungkook keeps his eyes on you before he’s smirking, toes still wiggling as he finishes his stretch. “Older obviously.”
“Mature.” You shrug. “Something like that.” Then you force your eyes to stay on his and you soften. “But you also look more tired than I ever remember.”
“Well, it’s been a hectic few…well, yeah. I can imagine.” Jungkook chuckles, “Sorry if I’m looking rougher nowadays.”
He’s grinning at you but the familiar wave of guilt washes against you, pushing your body uncomfortably. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all this.” You motion towards yourself with a timid smile. “But according to everyone you stuck by my side the—”
“—Of course I did.” Jungkook’s brows pinch, his expression hardening. “What kind of friend would I be if you were alone in this room?”
“A bad one?” You finally comfortably lock eyes with him and smirk.
Jungkook stares at you, his own eyes gazing and you can physically see how his features relax. “And when have I ever been a bad friend?”
You lightly scoff, tearing your eyes off his as you start counting on your fingers. “Okay, remember when you—”
Jungkook’s hands go to yours, lowering your fingers back down to your lap as you both laugh. “I should have known you’d list at least something.”
“I was only going to mention when you completely forgot about my existence when you first started dating Misuk! Remember when you canceled on some plans—”
“—That was one time! And let us not forget when you stood me up three times in a row!” Jungkook counters childishly, pout on his lips. “You were fake as hell for that.”
You blink at him before cracking a smile, “I admit I was wrong for that. You didn’t talk to me for four days. I think I went insane.”
“There is no way it was four days.”
You raise an unimpressed brow, “You and I both know—”
“—Okay, fine. It was four days.” A lopsided grin grows on his face, “I was only giving you a taste of your own medicine though.”
“How mature.” You roll your eyes before a soft smile barely turns up your lips. “That’s our biggest fight, huh?”
Jungkook parts his lips to speak but his throat grows a little dry before he manages to swallow, “Life would be way too easy if that was our biggest fight, y/n.” He tries to smile, “But that’s all ancient history now.”
You frown, voice quieter. “Well, for some of us.”
“Can I ask…how long ago was this fight for you? I don’t really remember…”
“For me?” You point at yourself, “Less than a year, probably.”
“Oh wow.” He nods, eyes lowering to his shaking knee. “It feels like a lifetime ago for me.”
“So,” You aim for a subject change. “I feel like everything has been about me and how I will adjust, blah, blah, blah…tell me about your life? You have barely mentioned anything and I am not used to a world where I don’t know every little thing about you.”
Jungkook chuckles at this, his anxious knee pausing. “In your world, you know every little thing about me?” then he continues to shake his knee up and down.
You look at him in a playful disbelief, “Are you serious? Jungkook, I even know what face you make when you really have to poop.” You laugh when he gives you the middle finger. “Well, in my reality you are working on becoming a detective. I assume with how much time has passed you are already one?”
His knee stops again. “I was, yeah.”
“Was?”
“Yeah.” He forces his lips to twist into a smile.
Your eyebrows scrunch in obvious confusion, “And you’re not…anymore?”
Jungkook continues to smile, his knee shaking again. “A lot changes in nine years, y/n.”
Before you can respond, Jungkook speaks again, “You leave tomorrow. Excited?” He’s the one aiming for a subject change now. You decide to comply.
You shrug before groaning, “I don’t know about excited.” You admit hastily. You are. But you aren’t. “I’m going home to a place that isn’t my home.” Then your eyes expand as you look at him innocently, “Apparently our apartment complex got torn down a few years ago?! Can you believe it?!”
Jungkook nods, “Ah, yeah, I remember. It got demolished a year or two after we moved out of there.”
“Unbelievable.” You slump over. “Hey.” You raise your eyes back to him, “Are we still neighbors? Like, do you live in the same neighborhood as me?”
Jungkook laughs, “Not necessarily. I live really close by you though.”
“What?!” You yell out wide eyed. “But we promised we would always be neighbors for the rest of our lives!”
“We promised that?” He teases.
“Yes.” You tell him with a straight face, “We have been neighbors since we were kids and now we aren’t. I refuse to believe it.”
“It’s only a five minute drive. If that.” Jungkook shakes his head, “Real close to your house.”
And then you immediately brighten, “That’s right. It’s a house. How adult is that?”
He cracks a smile, “Very. I don’t live in a house though. Am I not an adult?”
“You are but a child.” You respond with no pause. “I am really glad you’ll be with me though…I am not sure how comfortable it will be navigating a place that is supposed to be my home.”
Jungkook leans back in the stiff hospital chair, legs feeling weak. “Home doesn’t have to be some building.”
“You know 33 year old me. What’s my home then?” You ask, the uncertainty, the timidness doesn’t go unnoticed by your best friend. “Because for me, 24 year old me, thinks of my home as the apartment I live in—well, not anymore—but also, with you as my neighbor.” Then you mumble, “Home is walking 3 feet to the right and knocking on your front door.”
Jungkook chuckles a little, his fingers lacing together in his lap as he leans forward in the uncomfortable chair.
“Okay.” You groan louder, head falling into the pillow behind you as you laugh. “That was so cringe! But you get what I mean, right?”
“It wasn’t cringe, y/n.” Jungkook subtly shakes his head, his fingers detangling from one another before he starts cracking his knuckles. “Also,” He lifts his head and smirks at you. “When did you ever knock?”
“That was a cute little detail, huh?” You giggle.
“A cute little lie, yeah.” He smiles as he straightens in the chair again. “I didn’t knock either so I guess we’re even.”
~~~
“Okay.” Your mom holds you at arm’s length, her eyes investigation your face carefully. “You’re sure you’re ready to leave?” Her grip on you feels strong, she bores into your eyes but you don’t verbally answer because she already knows. She sighs before continuing, “Are you sure you don’t want us to come too?”
“It’s okay. Seriously.” You see the worry on your mother’s face. “You guys need to catch your train home. Jungkook’s got it covered!”
“I know…” Your mom glances around the packed parking lot. Eyes dancing across cars, people, street lights and even the cloudy sky. “I know he will.” She steals a quick moment with Jungkook, their eyes locking and he nods in assurance before she’s looking at you again.
“I will call you every day.” You promise your mom and dad. “Well, when I get a phone.”
“We will go tomorrow, don’t worry.” You hear Jungkook say from beside you.
“Okay.” Your mom nods. “Please take everything Dr. Lee said seriously, y/n. Be careful with bright lights, loud sounds…and when you get one of your headaches—”
“—I know, I know.” You smile, body softly lunging forward when you bring your mother in for a hug. Her grip on you is still strong, tense even. “I’ll take things slowly. And I won’t miss one single appointment.”
You feel her relax, “Don’t push yourself too hard. And remember, if you feel like you’re remembering something…don’t force yourself to think about it too hard. Nine years is a lot and Dr. Lee is worried your brain will go into overdrive and you’ll…” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “Get too overwhelmed.”
“Slow and steady.” You lean away, “I know.”
“Okay, my turn.” Your dad tugs at your arm, a tender smile on his face. Your mom lets you go, her worried eyes find your fathers but he only waves her off. “This is good.” He tells her before he’s got his arms wrapping around you. “We better be your first phone call.” He hugs you tightly before letting go.
“Okay, we really do need to leave.” Your mom sighs, “Jungkook.”
He nods at her, “I’ll keep you both updated.”
She smiles gratefully, “I know.”
You watch as your parent’s disappear, your heart growing slower in its beats. You have enjoyed spending the last two weeks with them. With you moving from Busan to Seoul for college years ago, seeing your parents became more and more scarce. Holidays being the center of your visits. It feels bittersweet.
“Okay, ready?” Jungkook speaks from behind you now, a hesitant hand coming to your shoulder. “To go home?”
You stare out into the parking lot, one, long breath leaving your lips slowly. “Wherever that is.” You grumble before spinning in your spot and giving Jungkook a smile. “Okay, where’s The Magnet?” You ask him, eyes roaming around again.
Jungkook blinks at you with wide eyes. “The Magnet?” He tries not to laugh. “You think after all these years I would still have the car I got in high school?”
You mouth opens in disbelief and disappointment. “Don’t tell me he doesn’t exist anymore.”
“I am in my thirties,” He tries to conceal his toothy grin. “That car would have killed me by now.”
“Nonsense. That car only ever wanted to help you.” You counter.
“Did you ever think that I’m the reason girls wanted me in high school? And not my car?”
“No, I know no one wanted you for your car.” You chuckle. “Trust me. That car had to grow on me. Ugly as hell. But for some reason, you managed to hook up with girls and the stories were always about how it was in the backseat of that deathtrap. He was the babe magnet.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, “I was in high school. It’s not like I could bring them home to my childhood bedroom. Had to do it somewhere.” He shrugs cockily.
“I never believed those rumors about my innocent little neighbor.” You laugh to yourself, remembering the old days. “You know, until I was out on a night run—”
“—Dangerous, by the way.” He cuts in quickly but you continue.
“And I see your car parked in front of your house and you getting busy with someone.” You dramatically shudder and he laughs loudly, shaking his head at the memory you claim to have seen.
“Anyway, I got rid of that car years ago. Come on,” He nods vaguely in another direction in the parking lot. “Let’s go.”
~
The air around you feels cold, stale and uninviting. You are standing in the entry way of your ‘home’…the place you apparently live. But everything feels foreign to you. Out of reach, out of place, out of your own reality. It feels like standing in a strangers home that you broke into.
You glance around and your body feels weak when you don’t notice any evidence of 24 year old you around at all. No sign that the you that you knows even exists. And the cold, distant feeling that swallows you only grows. You understand the concept of taking things slowly. You understand the warnings you have been given. “Adjusting will take time.” As you look around a strangers home, you feel the weight of those words. You are wondering if adjusting is even something you’ll achieve.
“Wow,” You gulp in your spot, eyes darting from place to place. The decoration on the walls, the decorative pillows on the sofa, the lack of personal touch making this harder to believe this is your home.
Jungkook stands next to you, his own eyes taking in your place. You look over at him and he looks as lost as you feel. Like he doesn’t believe it’s your home either. But then he exhales a long breath before speaking, “I took down a few things.” He tells you. “Framed photos and other things that might feel too…” He pauses, chewing his lip as he comes up with the right wording. “…Too unreal for you.”
“Oh.” You blink at his side profile, letting his words process as you realize it might have been a good idea. You don’t recognize so much already.
“I thought if you saw memories that are not your own…it could…” He grows quieter, “I don’t know. Not exactly a natural way to trigger memories but more of a shock for you.”
You realize he is right. The idea of seeing you, yourself, in scenarios that you couldn’t even imagine because you just wouldn’t know…feels like it could send you spiraling. You understand too well now…how taking it slow truly is the smartest thing. “Yeah.” You mumble, “I don’t think seeing that would…feel very good.” You admit with a sadness in your voice.
“Hey,” Jungkook turns towards you, his feet shuffling forward slowly. “One step at a time. I know the you that you know. And I also know the you that you don’t. I’m with you every step of the way.” He is almost whispering. His voice gone so soft and quiet like he’s trying to share secrets with you despite the fact you are both alone and no one else can hear.
“Thank you.” You slowly close your eyes, the tension in your forehead easing. “I know so much has changed in nine years,” You open your eyes again, an annoyed scoff leaving your lips. “Trust me, I can see how much everything has changed. I fucking hate it.” You try to smile but your throat feels tight as you speak. “But I am so glad nothing between us has.”
Jungkook’s fingers twitch against his thigh, the urge to touch you to offer comfort but he remains calm. “You will always be my best friend. y/n.” He continues to speak quietly.
You clear your throat, “And as my best friend,” You slide your eyes towards your living room. “Why the hell did you let me buy this ugly ass couch?” You raise a finger towards it.
Jungkook’s head whips in the direction as he snorts, the atmosphere feeling a little lighter. “I told you it was ugly.” He defends, “But you were so sold on it.”
You finally take the real first steps into your home, your feet taking you closer to the sofa before your fingers slide against the top of it. “It must have been on clearance there is no way—”
“—Full price.” Jungkook bites down onto his bottom lip with a grin. “I’m telling you,” He follows closely behind you. “You were obsessed.”
“Wow,” You say under your breath as you continue to eye the sofa. “Turns out I’m a loser now.”
He snorts again, a pleasant rumble in his chest. “You’ve always been a loser.” He bumps into your side playfully and you roll your eyes at him. “I am too though. Isn’t that how we basically became friends?” He reminds you with a sparkle in his eyes. They’ve been dim but sometimes they light up like this.
You shrug but nod in agreement nonetheless, “I wouldn’t say we were losers but okay, kind of.” You respond, the memory so clear of your first week in Seoul, attending University for the first time. When you and Jungkook actually became friends.
“Keep exploring?” Jungkook grips the top of the couch with his hand, “Or?”
“No, yeah, let’s keep going.” Your feet slide against the floors as you take a look around. You’re impressed with your kitchen ware, that’s for sure. You’re also impressed with your well decorated bathrooms and guest room. Even your bedroom seems like something you’d like.
Relief.
“I was worried my bedding would be totally hideous.” Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, concealing a relieved smile. “But this is cute and it feels nice.”
Jungkook stares at your comforter, his fingers barely feeling the fabric. “I liked your comforter before this better.” He mumbles, slight frown on his face.
“Ignorance is bliss.” You shrug, “Okay. Clothes.”
Jungkook leads you into your closet, looking a little emptier than you’d assume. “I guess when you work from home you don’t need a million outfits.” You glide your fingers over a bunch of hung clothing before you stop and examine a blouse. “Is…is this what’s in style now? Didn’t think this would come back.” You hang the shirt again and keep browsing.
You drag your fingers against a variety of fabrics again before your fingertips alert you that they are touching something familiar. Something you do know. “Hey!” You light up immediately, hands scurrying over the hangers as you show off the shirt you’d just found. “My favorite shirt!” You hold it up, proud you still have it. Jungkook’s face falls into something uneasy. Or maybe dubiety. “You still…” He pauses, eyes still glued to the shirt. “You still have that?”
“Apparently.” You smile. “Why would I get rid of my favorite shirt? I mean,” You jiggle it around, “It’s cool. Stylish. But still so soft and comfortable that I even sleep in it!”
“That’s because it’s a million years old.” Jungkook chuckles, though he looks tense. “I bought that shirt for a first date, didn’t I?” He wonders aloud, “But you stole it before I even got to wear it.” He laughs now, body relaxing a little. “I thought you would have gotten rid of it by now.”
“Oh,” You smirk at him, “Maybe you don’t know 33 year old me as well as you claim?”
You look back at the shirt and feel a huge wave of relief softly crash into you. Not everything has changed.
You and Jungkook head back into the living room, taking a seat on the couch you claim to hate so much as you continue to chat. It is the strangest sensation…speaking with someone you feel like you know but the Jungkook you know isn’t the one sitting with you now. It feels familiar, of course. But still strange. Still strange to see Jungkook as a man. Just like yourself, he is the same but different.
“Well,” You lean against the couch cushion. “It’s Tuesday. We should probably get ready for dinner, right?
Jungkook rests against the couch as well, sitting in the spot he claimed is ‘his’. “Sure. Is there anything you’re craving?”
You almost want to punch him in the face! How dare he ask a question with an answer as obvious as this. Your brows pull together as you speak slowly, “Uh, it’s Tuesday.”
The look on his face tells you he is not understanding. So you repeat, trying not to sound too annoyed. “It’s Tuesday, dude.”
He looks around for a moment, still a little confused before it hits him. “Ah,” He opens his mouth when he realizes. “You want barbeque and soju.”
Bingo.
“Well, yeah.” You say with a little attitude. “It’s our tradition.” You remind him, “One of them…we haven’t broken it in years. Right?” You ask the question but you’re starting to realize you know the answer and it just feels like another thing you cannot accept.
“Right, right.” Jungkook answers carefully but you see through it.
“So have we?”
He sighs out, softening. “It’s just…it’s harder to keep up with so many things nowadays.”
You knew it. Your heart pinches and the sting is lingering in your chest. “Do we still have movie nights every Sunday?”
“Um,” He looks around awkwardly and you don’t even want an answer anymore. “It has been a while.”
You huff out, knowing yourself well enough to know you feel hurt right now but you try to keep it light. “Wow, getting older is stupid.” You force a laugh. “Life really got to us, huh?”
“To everyone.” He gives you a smile. “Also, you know damn well you aren’t allowed to have alcohol.”
“A girl can dream.”
Jungkook orders take out for you both and within an hour, you’re eating happily on your ugly sofa. Your favorite place from college is still kicking and no recipes have changed. It tastes as good as you remember.
“Subin,” Jungkook points his phone in your direction, showing you the screen. “Says that her and Misuk will get here around 5pm tomorrow. And,” He taps the screen so it lights up again since it’s dimmed. “She’s,” He reads the text. “Never been more ready to see her oh my god!” He quotes one of your besties in a high pitched voice.
You can’t help but giggle, “I’m excited too. Sucks they couldn’t visit in the hospital.”
“Because—”
“—I know.” You say softly. “I have to ease into life, I get it.”
“Yeah.” He nods, sliding his phone away from him on the couch.
“My life is lame though. I still want to know more about yours!”
“My life is probably more lame than yours.” He tells you and you snort. “I’m serious!”
“Still,” You grow more serious, “I’m curious, you know? You could start with telling me what happened with the whole detective thing?”
Regret visits you immediately when you see Jungkook’s face pale and his expression growing distant. “Um,” He shakes his knee up and down, eyes darting in every direction. He does not want to talk about it.
“Forget it.” You smile, voice gentle. He sighs, relaxing once again because you saved him from a conversation he might just not be in the mood for. “What else?” You ask. “Do you…uh, do you have a girlfriend? Or wife? You are old.”
“You’re old too.” He deadpans then shakes his head. “But no. Not really in the place for that right now.”
“What a pair of besties, huh?” You begin to joke. “Both going to die alone.”
He laughs, “I forget you used to be more cynical. But anyway,” He lifts his legs onto the sofa, getting more comfortable. “If it’s too much for you, feel free to tell me to fuck off but…where exactly are you all at? With your memories and um, the point of life you’re in, I guess.”
“Ah, that’s mostly easy.” You tell him, brushing off any concerns he has. “When I woke up some of the things I remember thinking is that I’ll be 25 soon and what I plan on doing to celebrate but also, I remember I have a wedding to go to in a few weeks.”
“Wedding?” Jungkook thinks about it for a moment. “Wait…Sana’s wedding?”
“Yeah!”
“So that’s where you’re at.” Then he smiles at nothing. “That’s interesting.”
“Is it?” You tilt your head but Jungkook chuckles to himself, looking playful.
“Anyway,” He yawns, “Tomorrow we will get you a new phone since yours wasn’t recovered in the accident. Is there anything else you want to buy while we’re out?”
“Besides groceries?”
“Besides groceries.”
“Not really.” You say until you’re yawning yourself. “You know, maybe 33 year old me was onto something. This couch is comfortable as hell.”
“Yeah, it is.” He gazes at you, smile forming. “Do you know how many nights you have slept on this couch instead of a bed?”
“I’m so loyal to this thing.” You pat the cushion until your eyes go wide. “Oh my god,” Your fingers rub over the couch material. “This stain looks awful.”
Jungkook raises his brows before his eyes follow your hand and he goes still. He stares at the stain you pointed out and you notice immediately. He tries to lick his lips but it feels like even his tongue has dried out.
“Jungkook?” You call out for him but he continues to stare and you notice when his eyes look glossy. “You okay?”
Jungkook blinks repeatedly for a moment, shaking himself out of his thoughts before he looks up at you. “Yeah, sorry.” He laughs awkwardly, “It’s just…um, someone spilled hot chocolate on the couch a few years ago and it never came out. You were so mad.” He laughs for real now but a sadness still lurks.
“Jungkook are you—”
He sniffles to himself, trying his best to smile for you. “Sorry if it seems like I’m getting a little emotional. It’s just harder than I thought…I see so much evidence of a life you’ve lived but you don’t remember much of it.”
The pinch your heart feels this time almost makes you flinch. You’re both quiet, mutual understanding how complex this all feels. Your eyes drop back down to your hand, fingers still rubbing the cushion. While you see a stain…Jungkook sees a story.
~~~
“The wild thing is that we never notice when quality of stuff is actually getting better because it’s so gradual! But dude!” You keep snapping photos with your new phone. You already have pictures of the sky, trees and even one selfie you aren’t proud of. “Nine years and I can tell you the camera quality is nothing like I remember! But,” You go into the photo library and eye the selfie you took. “Maybe it’s too good. I need it blurrier. I was prettier when the camera sucked more.”
You can hear Jungkook laughing from your kitchen before he yells out, “I’ll buy you a shitty camera if that makes you feel better.”
You roll your eyes, finger still swiping as you view pictures you’ve taken today, you mumble, complaining to yourself. “No, y/n, how could you say you don’t look absolutely breathtaking in your phone from the future? You’re the most gorg—”
“—I can hear you.” Jungkook says from behind you, giddiness in his voice. “And I never said you weren’t pretty.”
You jump in your spot, body whipping in his direction. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Jungkook brings a hand to his chest, feigning his hurt. “I’d never do that to your heart.” He then walks around the couch to take a seat with you. “Alright, you’ve taken your medicine for the day but remember two of them you take at night as well.”
“I know.” You go back to looking at your new phone.
“We have a few hours to kill before Subin and Misuk get here…I was thinking we could watch a movie. You haven’t seen any new movies since 2014 so this is going to be fun.” He grabs the remote for your TV and pulls up Netflix. “Movies, shows, music…all great things to trigger memories!”
“Are you going to play one of my favorites that I don’t even know about?”
“Yes.”
You narrow your eyes at your best friend who starts browsing the catalog, “And you swear you aren’t going to show me a movie you love and claim I love it, right?”
He pauses his browsing before he turns his head to you, his lips curving into something devious. “Okay, well now I’m not.” He admits completely shamelessly.
“Idiot.” You chuckle, watching as he goes back to looking for something to watch. After a few minutes of Jungkook talking to himself as he decides on which movie, you decide to propose something to him. “Hey…” You call out softly, urging him to give his attention to you instead.
And he looks at you immediately. “Hm?”
“Last night…after you left.” You begin, a warmth spreading across your chest as you suddenly feel a bit embarrassed. “Being alone here…uh, I don’t know, it kind of felt like I was in a house with ghosts and none of them want me here.”
Jungkook’s brows furrow, pity etched on his face before he nods, trying his best to understand.
“And I just think…” You try to continue, but you keep trailing off, hoping he’s getting it. “You know, that maybe, I don’t want to…be…” You gesture around, warmth spreading to your neck and up your ears and finally on your cheeks.
“Alone?” He asks.
You gulp as if that is your entire response. And he knows.
“I get that.” He tells you, “I can stay with you tonight.”
“Really?” You ask him, feeling shy all the sudden and it makes you laugh internally. “Okay, thanks.”
It’s almost 5 now and unfortunately no movie triggered anything. You’re a little disappointed but it’s okay. It’s just day two of returning to life. Plus, how can any feeling of disappointment linger for too long when you’re buzzing in excitement. Seeing two of your closest friends. Misuk and Subin.
You met Misuk your sophomore year of college and she was in the same department as Jungkook before he switched. You met her because she, for a brief period of time, was Jungkook’s girlfriend. They broke up mutually, understanding there wasn’t more than just friendship between the two.
Although, Misuk gave you her true reasoning. You laughed about it then but as you’ve gotten older you realize maybe she was right. Regardless, she still stands by it…that friendship was better.
You are the one who brought Subin into your small circle. You met her around the same time because of a mutual elective and she fit in with you, Jungkook and Misuk like a glove. Your friendship with the two girls is something you treasure and you’re so happy to know that it hasn’t changed all these years later.
You get taken from your thoughts as you reminisce about your friends when your front door is being gently knocked. You rise from the sofa and take a deep breath as your eyes find Jungkook’s. You feel nervous for some silly reason but so does he. You reckon you’re rubbing off on him.
You both go towards your front door and you open it. Door swinging towards you, a fresh gust of air blowing through and your lips part at the view. Well, damn. Everyone looks different.
Subin used to be a make-up fanatic, no matter the day or the event she always had some glamorous look. Her hair used to be long and always decorated in bows and clips. But now, her face is bright, natural and free of anything and her hair…a whole ass pixie cut.
Misuk looks more like how you remember but instead of the bob she always had, her hair falls down to the middle of her back but her style is more or less the same.
“y/n!” Subin shrieks in excitement before she throws her hand over her mouth, eyes wide in terror. “Oh my god.” She lowers her hand as she panics. “I know loud noises are—”
“—Are you hugging her first or me?” Misuk cuts Subin off, “Hurry.”
Subin bites her lip and offers you a look of apology. “Me, please.” She raises a hand cutely.
You crack a smile at your friends before you open your arms, offering some affection. You kind of questioned it was even them…so many changes but you realize their voices, their gestures…it’s them.
Subin is quick to grin at you, her arms wrapping around your middle as she sways you gently from side to side. “You look great.” She tells you before pulling away.
Misuk is quick to hug you herself, her body stays still unlike Subin, but her hands rub at your back. “You really do.” She says, pulling back now. “I thought you’d still have cuts and bruises and I don’t know,” She pinches your cheek, “Like ten casts on your body and looking like a total badass.”
“A badass?” You giggle, throat feeling tight because suddenly this is strange. Like everything is.
“Of course.” Misuk nods, “I was going to tell everyone that you fought off an entire gang and won.” And then she gestures towards you, “And though you made it out alive, you still, you know…” She tries not to laugh but Subin starts giggling and so Misuk cracks as well. “Is that not a good story?”
“No, it’s way cooler.” You sniff, lips spread into a smile. “Come in!”
You step back, letting the girls in and they both slip their shoes off, glancing around your home and also seeing Jungkook here behind you.
“Hi Subin.” Jungkook gives her a closed lip smile and a small wave to his hand.
Subin returns his smile, her eyes going to Misuk before she looks at Jungkook again and she gives him a quick hug. “Hey.” She greets sweetly.
“Misuk.” Jungkook looks at your other friend now too, his stance less relaxed than before. She barely even looks at him as she brushes past you all and goes to your couch.
“Wow,” She whistles out, “This place looks so empty without your millions of photos.”
“Uh, yeah.” You follow everyone into your living room. “Better that way.”
Misuk keeps looking around, “I guess.”
Everyone kind of stands around, unsure of what to say. You can understand…they probably don’t know what to talk about. They’re aware of the fact you’re living in a different time than them but all you want is some normalcy. But this atmosphere isn’t that.
“Anyone want tea?” Jungkook suddenly asks. “I could go make some.”
“Oh!” Subin lights up, “I’d love—”
“—Why are you even here?” Misuk looks over at Jungkook. You’d think she’s glaring but that would not make sense. “We’re here. You don’t have to keep an eye on y/n. We got it.”
Jungkook’s jaw slightly clenches, his eyes on Misuk’s. She doesn’t look away, instead she raises her brows at him, as if urging him to answer the question.
“Do you want tea or not?” He asks her with a low voice.
“Why don’t you ask me something I actually want to answer.” She responds, voice as low. “Like, ‘do you want me to leave or not?’ because then yes, yes I would.”
Jungkook’s eyes go to the ceiling for a moment, his tongue pushing against his cheek. You look between your two friends and the strange feeling from earlier has transitioned into discomfort. Jungkook finally releases a long breath, his eyes going to you and Subin now. “I’ll make the tea.”
“T-Thanks.” Subin’s worried eyes go between Jungkook and Misuk.
Misuk rolls her eyes, her lips pressing into one another before she shrugs. “I guess we’re having tea.”
“Misuk.” Subin says her name carefully but you know a warning when you see one.
“What?”
She quickly shakes her head and smiles at you now, “You know Misuk can get moody when she hasn’t eaten all day!”
“Have you not eaten today?” You glance at Misuk, feeling worried. “It’s dinner time already!”
Misuk takes a seat on the sofa and Subin plops down right next to her, “I was stuck in meetings all day. Had no time.” She shrugs, “Plus, Subin has no excuse.”
You look at Subin now, clearly puzzled. “Have you not eaten either?” But she only waves you off cutely.
“I have.” She confirms. “I’m just on a diet!”
“Why are you on a diet?” You eye her over. Nine years later and she still has an incredible figure.
“I have wedding photos next week and I want to look amazing.” She pouts. “Since I’m not having an actual fancy wedding I only really need to worry about these photos.”
Your jaw drops in slow motion, “You’re getting married?!”
Then Subin blushes, suddenly looking shy yet giddy. “Right, sorry. That would be new information for you…I’m so sorry.”
“No, no. Congrats.” You can’t help it when your lips turn up. “That’s incredible…honestly.”
“Thank you. Um, his name is Garam and we’ve been together for around four years now?” She continues to blush, “And you guys get along well. Well, you will.” She rushes to correct herself, “Um, when you meet…again.”
“Right.” Your mind returns to this unknown place. You look at Misuk now. “What about you? Married? Single?”
“Definitely not married.” She chuckles, “But…” She pauses before smirking. “Not entirely single either though?”
“Oh?” You wiggle your brows, “Who is the lucky man?”
Misuk bites onto her top lip, a bashful looking smile spreading. “Woman, actually.”
“Huh?” Your eyebrows climb to your hairline, lips parting as you blink at your friend over and over. “Wow.” You start to slowly nod your head, “A lot does change in nine years.”
The room goes silent for a few awkward moments, you three girls exchanging blank stares and then suddenly Subin is the first to bust out an unattractive laugh before you and Misuk join her. Immediately so much tension in the room breaking and falling away.
All three of you are basking in your own laughter and each other’s. Suddenly, things feel more like the old days. “You’re into girls now. Noted.” You conceal your teasing smile but Misuk shakes her head.
“I’m into boys too!” She tells you. “That hasn’t changed. But I don’t know, out of nowhere I realized they aren’t the only ones.”
You snort, “So is it serious?”
“Not at all.” Misuk shrugs, “But it is fun.”
“I did not see this coming.” You start trying to think of college and after and what hints there might have been.
“That’s true.” Subin giggles, “When Misuk first told us, you,” She points at you. “Literally choked on fried chicken while I—”
“While she pointed at me and said ‘I knew it’” Misuk fills you in. “I swear she didn’t though.”
“You literally said my ex roommate was so hot you wanted her to ride your face.” Subin raises a brow, “One time, okay. But you said is every time you saw her and I said to myself. ‘yeah, she ain’t straight.’”
You fall back into the couch cushion, shoulders shaking as you laugh. “No way.”
“Oh wow.” Subin stares at you with soft eyes. “I can’t really remember the last time I saw you laugh like that. Or smile this much.”
You relax, smile still on your lips. “Hm?”
She shares a look with Misuk, her eyes looking watery when she gazes at you again. Subin is known for crying easily but you see actual hurt on her features but also relief. “You look so…” She pauses and sighs out. “Bright eyed? Happy?” Then she looks at you even more softly. “It’s nice.”
“It is nice.” Misuk says quietly. “Really nice.”
“Okay?” You look between them, feeling unsure of their words. “I—”
“—Okay, I made tea. It’s still really hot but you all can help yourself whenever. Um,” Jungkook comes into the living room, hands on the back of the couch right behind you. “I actually need to run a quick errand.” Then his hand finds your shoulder and he gives you a gentle squeeze. “Be back.”
Subin sings out a ‘See ya later’ while Misuk checks her phone. You watch as Jungkook leaves, the door shutting quietly behind him. You turn your attention back to the girls, a frown pulling at your lips.
“I hope he didn’t leave because Misuk was being moody…” You mumble more to yourself.
“Moody.” Misuk scoffs before she glares at Subin.
You exhale a deep breath, “Everything feels so different. I didn’t think things would feel so…” You feel your throat getting tight but you swallow hard, opening some space. “Lots of changes.”
“Things…have changed.” Subin smiles. “It’ll get easier once you…” She stops to nibble on her lips, she realizes no words will really help. She can’t imagine what you’re experiencing.
“Have things changed,” You gesture between you three. “Between us?”
Subin and Misuk share a look, both harboring strange expressions. Because everything is strange.
“Yeah.” Subin decides to admit, “But that’s normal. We just aren’t,” She looks at Misuk for help and internally groans when Misuk doesn’t pick up on it. “Well, we aren’t as close as back in the day.”
“Oh.” Another pinch to your heart.
“But hey,” Misuk finally speaks, “That’s what happens when you get older, you know? Everyone has their lives. It’s completely normal, I promise.”
You know that something like that is normal. But reality is much harsher than you were anticipating.
~
It’s dark outside. The sun hiding away. You don’t blame it since you also want to hide away. You have a random blanket wrapped around your body as you sink deeper into the couch, only the sounds of your breaths and the ticking of a clock that hangs on the living room wall.
Misuk and Subin left a little while ago and Jungkook is still gone. You’re here in a house you don’t know with ghosts who don’t want you. It’s lonely. You want to convince yourself that the thing causing your lonesome is the empty house but you know it’s because everything you know doesn’t exist anymore and you’re stuck in that place. The place of the past.
Except for you it isn’t the past.
Finally, your head snaps up when you hear Jungkook opening the front door. He looks confused as he glances around, “Why are you in the dark?” He asks you, his fingers feeling up the wall as he finds the light switch. The light comes on suddenly and you yelp.
“The light!” You whine, head falling into your hands. “Too much, too much.”
Jungkook’s eyes expand, panic filling them as he rushes to flip the switch off. “Fuck. Sorry, sorry.” He mutters quickly, feeling bad about it. “I forgot, I’m so sorry.”
You try to laugh a little, “Hey, I’m the one who is supposed to forget stuff, not you, buddy.”
Jungkook rubs his temples, worry still written all over his face. You don’t see it but you know. The only light on is one from a hall way so warm light barely spills enough into the living room…enough to guide Jungkook to you. He sits right next to you on the sofa and with no thought his hands go to either of your cheeks.
“You okay?” He asks you soothingly. “I’m so sorry…fuck, I really…”
His fingers on your skin feels familiar. Of course it does. The familiarity makes your head feel woozy though. “I am.” You look at him in the dark. “It’s okay. It calms down pretty quickly. But my head does hurt…”
“Have you taken your night dosage yet?” He asks, thumbs stroking both cheeks. You shake your head no in his hold. “I told you 9pm didn’t I? It’s almost 10.”
“I don’t think one hour is a huge deal difference.”
“It is.” He scolds you, finally dropping his hands from your face. “You have to take this seriously.”
“Okay, okay.” You groan, wrapping the blanket tighter. “I just…can I relax for one second?”
Jungkook tilts his head, his worried expression only growing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” You snap. “Seriously, just…”
“Hey,” Jungkook’s voice softens and it immediately relaxes you more. “Are you feeling okay? You have headache…anything else?”
You close your eyes in defeat, body falling against the cushions again. “Everything else.” Your voice cracks, “I feel so fucking stressed. I…”
“I know this must be hard for you.”
“I barely got told any life altering things today about some of the things I’ve missed…and Jungkook, the doctor was right. Even that…” Your throat burns as you speak. “I’m so fucking overwhelmed with everything.”
“I—”
“—And,” you continue to vent. Your eyes stinging now as well. “I just don’t know how I can handle more…I don’t want to.”
Jungkook’s heart breaks at this. He knows how hard you’ve been trying and he wishes he could make it easier for you.
“y/n…” He rubs your arm over the blanket. “Nine years is a lot. You have plenty of time to adjust. Day by day…step by step. I’m here with you. For all of it.” He swallows hard. “I promise all of it.”
“Yeah?” You wipe at your nose, your eyes and nose feeling a little leaky.
“Yeah.” He tells you earnestly, his body pressing against yours when he leans in to hug you. He feels warm against you, firm too. You’re still wrapped in the blanket so you don’t hug him back but his scent that suffocates you feels enough like you are.
This is the first time Jungkook really hugs you since you’ve woken up. He hugged you briefly when you woke from the coma but you didn’t totally register it at the time. Now you are. His scent floods your nostrils so heavily that you think his scent now fills up your veins. It’s all so familiar. Old and new.
~~~
The next few days go by slowly—in a good way—things feel a bit better than before. You and Jungkook have spent your time at home, cooking together and watching more movies and TV shows. He even shows you music you apparently love, even adding, “I wish I was you! You’re so lucky you’re wiped of remembering this album and listening to it again like the first time.” And you replying with a snort, “Did you just call me lucky for having amnesia?” and then you adding, “God, why couldn’t my brain wipe out all of the Avatar the last Airbender series so I could watch it again like it’s the first time.”
It goes like this and it feels so pleasant. Yes, fucking pleasant.
But pleasantries don’t last forever.
You and Jungkook wrap up the night, changing into pajamas and washing up for bed. You’re returning from the kitchen with a glass of water when you see Jungkook fluffing up a pillow before getting comfortable to sleep on the couch.
“Why do you sleep out here? Why don’t you sleep in the guest room?” You point down the hall, “Don’t you—”
“No, it’s okay.” Jungkook mumbles, his eyes focusing on the hallway from where he lays. “Um, not a fan of that bed so I will just sleep here.”
You eye him curiously before shrugging it off. “Whatever you say. Night,” You sing out cutely, “See you tomorrow.”
“Don’t forget I’ll be busy tomorrow and won’t see you until the evening.” Jungkook reminds you, “I already bought the wine for movie night tomorrow. Since it’s Sunday after all.”
“Not fair that you can drink and I can’t.” You groan, “But anyway, what are you doing on a Sunday?”
“I just have things to take care of.” He responds simply. “You’re hanging out with Subin during the day right?”
“Yes, yes.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t worry, Subin is willing to babysit me.”
“It isn’t like that.” Jungkook frowns, “You know that.”
“I know.” You soften, “Night, Jungkook.”
~
Another thing that is taking some time to get used to is all the differences throughout the city of Seoul. New shops, restaurants, cafes…the list goes on. Of course lots of places and things you do recognize but so much new, new, new.
Subin drove the both of you to a favorite restaurant of hers with a ‘to die for breakfast selection’, saying she only found it a few months ago so even 33 year old you isn’t familiar with it. Which somehow feels relieving.
You’re both seated at a small table against a window, menus in hands as you wait for the server to come to you both for your orders. It feels nice being out, the feeling of a friend showing you a new place is almost normal. It’s not a place you’re supposed to know and that’s a great thought.
“I really need to pee. Bathroom?” You look up from the menu, eyes on Subin.
“Oh,” She lifts a hand to point behind her. “Down that way! Do you know what you want? If the server comes before you’re back I can order for us.”
“Oh, fantastic.” You grin, setting the menu down and sliding it in front of her. “I want this.” You point excitedly. “But can you ask for the potatoes to be extra crispy.”
“You got it.” She offers a thumbs up.
You get up quickly to head to the bathroom. After you finish using the toilet, you stand in front of the bathrooms mirror at the sink, washing your hands. A heavy feeling is pushing against your forehead and you curse yourself for forgetting to bring extra pain relievers. Maybe it’s because of the florescent lights in here and they’re messing with you.
Once you make it back to the table, you rest your head in your hands. “Head is killing me.” You explain before Subin can even ask. She chews on her lips, feeling bad about your state. “Did you order?” You raise your head again, hoping the pressure on the other side of your skull eases.
“I did!” Subin smiles at you. “We will be eating delicious food in no time.”
“I cannot wait.” You return her smile. “So, your wedding photos are this coming week, right?”
“Ugh, yes.” Subin squeals quietly on the other side of the table. “Today is my one cheat meal so don’t judge me.”
“Right, right.” You chuckle, “So is there a reason you guys aren’t having a wedding?”
“Garam and I?” She points at herself innocently. “Well, we don’t really want to make a huge thing about it. We’re going to do it the easy, simple way. No wedding.” She shrugs, soft smile pulling up her lips. “The photos are our fancy time.”
You frown at her words, “But you always talked about your dream wedding…”
“Oh.” She blinks at you before cracking another smile. “I guess I used to, huh? Ah, well, I am way more practical nowadays.”
You hate the feeling inside your chest. Like this is another thing you don’t want to accept. “Everyone is so different…” You mumble, eyes going to the water on the table.
“Not completely!” Subin rushes to say, her cheery voice still intact, trying her best to steer you away from disappointment. “For example…” She starts thinking, “According to what you know about me…you know, as a 24 year old…what do you think I ordered for breakfast?”
You immediately sigh out, not even wanting to answer.
“Oh, come on.” Subin grins, pushing you to answer. “No matter where I go I always got the same thing, right?”
You sigh again. “Two blueberry pancakes. Exactly three slices of bacon. Scrambled eggs…runny. And of course, a very random side of shredded cheese.”
“It’s not random! It’s for the eggs and you know this!” Subin pouts at you playfully.
You shake your head but you can’t control when your lips twitch to smile. “Anyway,”
You both continue chatting for a little while longer. She tells you more about Garam and how they met and fell in love. It’s still strange hearing all of this when you’re already supposed to know it. But since you aren’t directly involved it feels…manageable.
Suddenly, Subin’s eyes light up when she notices the server coming with the food behind you. And the next thing you know, plates of food are now on the table, both in front of you and Subin and it smells delicious.
“Anything else?” The server asks, her voice kind and patient.
You look at the food and sigh in contentment before looking up to respond, “No I think—“ But you come to a sudden halt the moment your eyes meet hers. It’s almost immediate when your brows pull together in confusion, maybe concentration. She looks at you with a similar expression.
“O-Okay.” She nods quickly. “I-If that’s—that’s all then I…” She blinks down at you, something unsettling falling on her features.
You can’t look away from her face. There is something so familiar about this woman. But not familiar in the way that you actually know. No, familiar in a way that you have yet to uncover. You glance to her name tag…’Nabi’. And swallow hard. You don’t know that name? You don’t know her. But it feels like there is a memory that lingers annoyingly on your tongue like a flavor you can’t quite pin. But it isn’t enough.
“Do I know you?” You blurt without much realization.
Nabi’s eyes go wide before she’s shaking her head and forcing an awkward smile, “Oh, no. No. I probably have one of those faces, you know?” She laughs now. You watch her carefully before giving a curt nod.
“Okay, sorry.” You look back down at your food and then to Subin and you smile at her. “Let’s dig in.”
A man comes to the table as well, handing Nabi another plate while she takes it and sets it down in front of Subin. “Your side of shredded cheese.” She stares at you both for another moment before walking off.
You look down at what Subin ordered and you roll your eyes playfully at her and she winks at you.
“Didn’t I say some things don’t change?”
~
You’ve spent the entire day with Subin. You two walked around the city, went to some parks, got sweet drinks and snacks and gushed about the beautiful weather. You’re tired though, you’ll admit. Today has been an event and you cannot wait to walk through your front door and be lazy on your couch.
It’s already after 7 when you make it home again, the sun setting and quiet hoots of owls nearby. You see Jungkook’s car parked out front and you feel giddy that he is already here and no doubt waiting for you. A long day of activity and sitting on the couch watching movies with your best friend while he drinks wine sounds like a great night. (Even if you don’t get to partake in the drinking.)
“Hello!” You call out as you walk through the front door. “I’m home!”
“In the kitchen!” You hear Jungkook call out from the distance.
You make your way further into the house, light footsteps dancing across the floor until you’re in the kitchen. Jungkook is sitting at the counter, a glass of wine next to his laptop that he’s buried himself in. When he hears you approach, his lifts he eyes to you. And you see his immediate smile.
“Hey.” He pushes down onto the laptop, closing it. “How was your day?”
You walk to the side of the counter he is on and you take a seat next to him. “Long. Fun. Good. Weird. Fuzzy. Headaches. Good food. The weath—”
“—Headaches?” Jungkook’s lips tug down. “Still? Or have they gotten better throughout the day?”
“More or less.” You shrug. “I can’t wait to take my medicine at 9 though.”
Jungkook chuckles, “I’ll make sure you take them.” He raises his fingers to your cheek, they barely skid your skin but it’s enough to feel like the temperature has gone up. You glance down at the countertop quickly as you nod.
He drops his hand, “You okay?”
“Duh.” You force a smile as you stand from the chair. “Aren’t we watching a movie now?”
The third movie of the night is on and Jungkook is on his fourth glass of wine. He’s giggly and losing his perception of personal space. It never really bothered you much until…well, it still doesn’t bother you.
“Why are your hands always cold!?” Jungkook whines, his fingers wrapping around yours. “I feel like I’m holding onto five icicles.” He says while raising your hand up.
“You’re the one who keeps touching my thermostat.”
“You know I like to sleep cold.”
“Same.”
“Then don’t complain.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Feels like you’re complaining.”
“Hey,” You escape his hand, freeing your freezing fingers. “Can I ask you something?”
Jungkook gazes at you, his eyes are so big and wonderous and you see the little boy from a million years ago.
“Hm?” He hums while reaching over his other side and throwing a blanket at you. You get cozy quickly, feeling grateful for the warmth and even almost forgetting your question. “Hm?” He hums again.
“Oh yeah.” You chuckle. “Okay, I’m curious…what’s your favorite memory with me?”
Jungkook’s expression shifts subtly, eyes on you. “A memory you’d actually know, right?”
“Yeah.” You nod before growing soft and hopeful. “You can tell me your other favorite memory of you and me if I get my memories back.”
“When.” He corrects you as gentle as possible. “But okay…” He leans back into the sofa, eyes on the ceiling. “I got it.” He smiles to himself.
“What is it?” You lean towards him, interest piqued. His eyes slide towards you before he smirks. “You have to tell me Jungkook!”
“I mean…do I have to?” He teases you. He keeps his gaze on you, watching for all your reactions to his teasing. You whine and pout and when he continues to be secretive you pinch him. “Ow! Okay! Okay!” He rubs his arm.
“Heh.” You look at him, clearly pleased. A warmth still spreading across your body. He’s still the same Ribbit, you think.
“Okay, I don’t know if it’s actually my favorite favorite…but it’s the first thing that came to mind.” Jungkook informs you, “Remember when I told you I wanted to apply for the police academy instead of finishing at the University?”
“Of course I remember.” You mumble, cute pout forming. “I was devastated we wouldn’t attend school together anymore.”
Jungkook breaks into a grin at that, “I know.”
“My devastation is your fav—”
“—No, no.” Jungkook chuckles. “After my first day of the academy, I remember when…”
You feel heat creep up every inch of skin because you know exactly what he’s going to say. So long ago and you’re still embarrassed.
Jungkook continues when he sees the shame on your face and he tries to conceal his teasing smile. “When I walked out of one of the buildings I saw you coming towards me and—” He tries to speak but he can’t help but laugh now. “Fuck,” He starts cackling by himself while you shrink in shame.
“Shut up.” You groan loudly. “You know I was just trying to be funny!”
“Sure, yeah.” He tries to calm down, huge smile on his face still. “I’m not sure I thought it was hilarious in the moment.” He admits, eyes growing a little darker but only for a moment. “But eventually yeah, that shit has me dying when I think about it.”
“It was your first day.” You mope in your spot next to him. “I knew how nervous you were, Jungkook. I thought it would…make you feel better?”
“You thought showing up on my first day of the academy in a sexy detective costume was what would make me feel better?” He starts cracking up again.
“I thought it was funny.” You groan again, cheeks on fire at this point.
“Funny.” He shakes his head, teeth poking out as he smiles. “My classmates thought you were trying to seduce me.”
“Well, your classmates didn’t know shit.” You pout defensively.
Jungkook keeps grinning like a fool, the memory still making him laugh. “But I guess your goal to make me laugh worked because once I registered what the hell you were doing, I couldn’t stop laughing.”
“Yeah.” You glance away, annoyed. “I recall. You told everyone about it and everyone made fun of me. Glad to know me being embarrassed as fuck is one of your favorite memories.”
Jungkook snorts, his features softening before his fingers come to your cheek again. “It’s a favorite of mine because you were willing to do something like that just to ease my nerves.”
Speaking of fucking nerves. Yours are free falling in your belly. “I guess that’s a better answer.” You say quietly, eyes having a hard time staying on him.
“Hey,” His fingers brush against your skin. “You know I would do something like that for you too, right?” He smiles. It’s gentle. Honest. “I would really do anything for you.”
And just like that, that feeling you’ve been drowning in for the past few weeks continues.
That’s right…nine years have passed. You are apparently 33 but woke up with only the memories of the first 24 years of your life. Memories that bring feelings that drown you. You woke up with the memories of that time of your life and the feelings.
Your brain erased so much so why couldn’t it have erased this too?
For you, you are 24. And at this point in your life you are disgustingly in love with your best friend. The man in front of you now. And the familiar ache of yearning resides deep inside your chest, like it never left at all.
“Hey, Jungkook?” You call out for him softly, he hums in response as he drops his hand from your face. “We are still best friends, right?”
Jungkook pushes his head back in slight disbelief that you’d even ask that, “Of course.” He grows a little more serious. “We will be for the rest of our lives. No matter what.” He states like it is a promise.
Yeah, the ache returns and the art of yearning is painting a mix of wild colors across a canvas, a piece of art one day worthy for the Louvre.
“I’m by your side forever, y/n.” He says more softly now.
Well, fuck. Just one more stroke of the brush against this canvas…and you might crumble.
~
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