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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

Hold Me Close | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader, ex Namjoon x Reader (ft. brother Jimin)

Genre/Tags: brother’s best friends au; (dash of) angst, fluff (sort of), smut

Warnings: foul language, feelings of insecurity, minor accident caused by inebriation, getting drunk, sexual content (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!), JK has a hip tattoo and at some point has grey hair (18+)

Word count: 22k

Summary: When Jimin hits a crisis, he enlists the help of his older sister - you - and his best friend, Jungkook, to put the pieces back again. That proves to be difficult when 1) Jimin’s a brat and a certified pain in the ass, and 2) Jungkook has grown and suddenly, you can’t keep your eyes off him.

A/N: I wanted to write something fun for a change and saw @ladyartemesia‘s brother’s best friend list and thought it would be a nice trope to explore because if there would be an ideal bratty younger brother, it would be Jimin. This was sooo much fun to write but also reminded me again of why I love my baby sister more than anyone in this world. Hope you all enjoy!

Three - the number of missed calls you probably now have just in the last 5 minutes, the vibrations piercing through your pocket and onto your thigh. It might be important, but so is keeping your attention on the department Director to your right, who is complimenting the man to your left, over a proposal that you spent weeks working on.

You force a smile because in front of your entire department isn’t really the time and place to refute and complain. It doesn’t help that Chul accepts the credit because anything to get ahead, right?

Just another reason why you dislike this job. Perhaps your boss telling you that you’re too emotional or too soft to be in this industry has gotten to you, but then again, there’s not a bone in you that’s ambitious and competition-craved, unlike your parents. But you try, at least. It’s the least you can do for something that’s expected of their eldest child.

The Director flips a page and turns to you. “Glad you could contribute to this, Ms. Park.”

He did assign it to you but you suppose your name just flew off his head, but you remind him anyway.

“Thank you for the opportunity to work on it, Mr. Yoon. I’m truly learning a lot,” you fake a smile and wish for this to end.

Soon enough it does and you bow towards the managers present, one of them giving you the compliment you needed to hear, and excuse yourself before another call comes in.

Best brother ever, the screen announces, and you curse yourself for still not changing his contact name and for having an easy-enough password to guess.

“I swear to god, Jimin, this better be an emergency,” you cuss to the person on the other end, already boiling at the thought of him possibly calling to ask how to fix a broken toilet or what kind of oil he’s supposed to buy for frying because he’d done both too many times for you to count.

“___!” The sound of a relieved huff is what greets you, the voice familiar.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah, hi,” he says. “Uh, we’re at the hospital.”

Your eyes widen and you scold yourself for missing the calls, but then again, you wouldn’t have known because Jimin’s wolf cries precede this moment of an actual emergency.

“What? Why! Is my brother okay?” You cry out, hands already working on collecting your files and feet rushing towards your desk to pack up.

“Yeah,” Jungkook affirms. “He’s fine. He just—“

“I AM NOT FINE!” You hear your brother shriek in the background, sound a little soft due to distance but you don’t miss the farcical tone of his statement.

“Dude, it’s just a sprained ankle. You’ll live,” Jungkook tells him calmly, away from the phone.

You sigh in relief because Jungkook is definitely the person to believe in times like this.

“From 1 to Jimin, how dramatic is he?” You ask.

“Jimin. Times two.”

“Damn, okay. That actually seems worse than the injury itself huh?”

Jungkook laughs in agreement.

“I’m just packing. I’ll go to you guys right after.”

“Alright. General Hospital, emergency room. Just follow the tone of the weeping man-child.”

“I feel so empty. What am I gonna do with my life now!” You hear in the background.

You laugh at your brother’s antics because you’ve heard that exact line not long ago after his building owner told him again that he can’t have a pet in the apartment. But who knows with Jimin this time around?

“Got it. See you in a bit,” you say, then head out to hail a cab.

You arrive in the emergency room and follow the sound of the weeping man-child and true enough, you see your baby brother lying on the bed with his right leg nestled on pillows, ice taped on the swollen ankle.

You rush to his side and assess if there’s any other part that’s being treated. “What the hell happened to you?” You worriedly ask. “Is this because of work? God, Jimin. I told you that company overworks you! You don’t even get enough rest.”

Behind you, you could hear muffled laughter, and paired with your brother’s sheepish smile, you could already tell he got it over something silly. He’s avoiding your gaze, causing your worry to turn to frustration.

You cross your arms and you give him a stern look. “Park Jimin, look at me and tell me what happened.”

He plays with the hem of the blanket draped over him and with a sickly sweet smile, the one he uses on you to get himself out of trouble, he says, “I may have drank and perhaps had my foot stuck in a gutter and I may also have moved about when Jungkook told me to stay still and well…” Arms laid out before him as if in presentation, “here I am!”

He’s beaming, as if it’s something to be proud of. You know it’s his tactic but still, your brother’s ability to go from one reaction to another astounds you.

You turn to Jungkook for confirmation and he nods at the accuracy and absurdity of the situation, causing a worried feeling in the pit of your stomach because how the hell are you going to explain this to your parents?

“You forgot the part about you screaming that you hate men and you don’t want to love anymore,” Jungkook adds. It’s classic Jimin that it actually makes you laugh.

You, as his older sister and Jungkook, as his best friend of 15 years, should be used to this already but your brother is plucked from a classic romcom as the hot mess character and that carries with it amusement and predictability.

You're about to ask for an elaboration to put more context in the scene that’s playing in your head of a crying Jimin flailing his arms and a bemused but laughing Jungkook trying to shut him up, when the doctor comes in.

She checks the clipboard then on Jimin.

“Thankfully, there’s nothing broken,” she says, jotting down on a pad. She starts instructing how to properly wrap the ankle, prompting Jungkook to stand next to you and Jimin to nip at his fingernails because the brat won’t even pay attention to how to care for his own injured foot.

After handing you the prescription, the doctor tells Jimin, “We’ll just wrap you up with a cast and give you the crutches then you can head home.”

“So I’m not staying?” He asks.

“No need,” the doctor clarifies. “It’s just sprained but it will take several weeks to properly heal and it will be sore for a while,” she states, then calls a nurse and instructs him to prepare the supplies.

“You said you’re a dance instructor? The injury was aggravated by previous mild sprains so I require complete rest. You absolutely cannot move. Just stay in bed and follow the instructions I’ve written down.”

You and Jungkook release a sigh of relief, thankful that it’s nothing serious, the concern over what prompted his outburst temporarily at the back of your mind, until Jimin speaks up.

“But, something else feels broken.”

“What is it?” The doctor asks, suddenly worried and checks the board for anything she might’ve missed.

“My heart.”

“Yah!” You smack Jimin’s arm in embarrassment, which he returns with a smack on yours, a common sight for you both and Jungkook who’s bared witness to the violence you and your brother inflicted upon each other growing up.

The doctor rolls her eyes. “She’ll come back,” she says, then heads towards the door.

Jimin scrunches his nose in annoyance. “She’s a he, by the way!” He shouts, causing the others present to turn to him, as if such a situation is scandalous.

“Do… you have a boyfriend I don’t know about?” You nervously ask.

While your 3-year gap sibling relationship is rooted in violence that’s caused bruises, buckets of tears, timeouts, and your parents almost giving up on making you two get along at many points of your lives, you and Jimin have somehow grown up and have found the right balance of telling each other important things while also staying out of each other’s business.

The “growing up” only happened midway through his college life, when he realized that even with his best friend next to him, you were still his lifeline in the big city of Seoul and the only other reminder of home.

Because even with him knowing what it takes to make it in the competitive entertainment industry as a choreographer, in his heart, he’s still the younger child who’s used to being taken care of. That meant regularly demanding your presence in his dorm when he was still studying and then crashing your place when he’d started working. For food, mostly. The ranting about things just came naturally after.

“It’s Tae,” he shyly reveals, meeting your eyes for the first time and suddenly, he’s your little brother again, the one whose snacks you used to prepare or whose wounds you used to treat when your parents weren’t home or were too tired from work.

“Your roommate?”

“Yeah. He left today because he got this photography gig where he gets to travel the world.”

“I didn’t know you had a thing,” you say.

“We didn’t,” he huffs out in frustration. “I didn’t know I liked him until he said he booked a one-way ticket and didn’t know when he'd be coming back. And he was so excited and I was really happy for him but also felt like it was too late. Like should I have said anything? What if he felt the same way? Would he have stayed?” He sighs, looking sullen this time.

“He may have, or he would still be taking the trip. Regardless, no one should be giving up on dreams for anybody, Chim. That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” you say, not meaning to sound as if you’re reprimanding him, but the look he gives is enough to tell you that he understands. He’s heard variations of that same sentiment before, anyway.

Jungkook feels the tension in the air and breaks it by stating that he’ll be driving everybody home.

“I’ll be staying with my sister,” Jimin announces, his annoying smile now back, and he knows you can’t say no; by obligation or by choice, you won’t tell.

“There goes my weekend,” you gripe.

“I won’t be a nuisance, I promise,” he says then crosses his heart, like it actually means anything.

“You’re a nuisance even when you’re not injured, what more now?”

“I’m not that bad,” he defends.

“Oh, but you are.” You turn to Jungkook. “You know, I actually tried to push him back in our mom’s vagina but even her uterus didn’t want him anymore.”

“Ouch okay, I will pretend I didn’t hear that,” and you all laugh as Jimin is transferred to the wheel chair and pushed by the nurse, signaling Jungkook to go ahead and retrieve his car.

You arrive at your apartment with a Jimin-clad Jungkook in tow, the worry of not having cleaned up quickly dissipating because this is your brother, and he shouldn’t complain.

Jungkook assists Jimin in the bathroom while you set up your bed by piling up pillows for his foot.

“I don’t have clean sheets for the sofa bed in the other room,” you say, “and it’s not cleaned up, as I didn’t expect to house an injured child this weekend. Just sleep on my bed first.”

Jungkook guides Jimin to your bed and helps him settle in, with your brother looking all smug with the treatment he’s getting because he knows you don’t give up your bed that easily.

“What about you?” Jungkook asks, seemingly more worried about your inconvenience than the actual cause of it.

“I’m fine with the couch. Wouldn’t wanna sleep here with him and accidentally hit his foot. He might murder me or something.”

“Thanks, Sis. I’m very comfortable here. I think I’ll be sleeping well tonight,” Jimin states, then yawns, drowsiness kicking in from the medication.

You roll your eyes and close the door. You lead Jungkook to your kitchen and offer him a drink.

“I’m sorry for him, Kook. Did he drag you out of work?” You ask.

“Just had to call the tattoo parlor and reschedule my Friday appointments,” he says, downing the glass of water. “He was pretty emotional over the phone and wanted to drink at 4PM and well, you know the rest.”

“Ugh, such a pain in the ass,” you mutter, massaging your temples. “But was he serious about the whole Tae thing?”

“Seemed like it. I think it just took an abrupt change for him to realize what he felt,” he explains. “But you know him - falls fast, moves on faster. He’ll be okay. You’re here,” he continues, flashing you his bunny smile, the one that used to cause you to pinch his puffy cheeks out of cuteness.

But that’s when he was a lanky 10-year old with his awkward front bangs. The man in front of you now sports long dark locks and a sharp jawline, tattooed arms and probably a built figure, if the way he carried your brother as if he’s a feather is any indication of his strength. His bambi eyes, usually scrunched large nose, and child-like smile are the only things that remain from that memory of him.

“You know I can’t stand my brother for long periods of time, Kook,” you pout, earning you an amused laugh.

“He actually already invited me over the weekend, asked me to bring my PS4 so we could play.”

“That bitch has to rest, what is he talking about?”

“Same thing I told him. I’ll just make up some reason that my player caught fire or that I dropped it while running or something.”

You give him a straight face. “The hell would he buy that? You can just not bring it.”

“I’m just gonna match his drama,” Jungkook shrugs, earning him your laugh, which for him is all tones of sweet and soothing.

A smile forms on his face at the thought of making you laugh like this, something he secretly enjoys. This particular sound would most likely be etched in his mind, among the several others that he caused.

There was that time when you caught him doing chubby bunny as a consequence and seeing him stuffed with marshmallows made you secretly giggle because 15-year old you didn’t want to indulge in their silly antics; Jungkook heard it though.

There was that other time during Jimin’s 14th birthday at an arcade, Jungkook went over the basketball game’s railing to get the highest score and you alternated between scolding him and laughing your butt off. He snuck the tickets he won in your pile though so you would have enough to get the Tinkerbell tea set because he knew your obsession with fairies.

When you visited home for their high school graduation, you all cooked dinner and he overdid the glazed sweet potatoes, causing them to get stuck on the plate. You tried to hold your laugh but gave up once he started dancing; he was so embarrassed but that’s when he knew he’d willingly make a fool of himself to hear you laugh like that.

And 3 years ago, your large group of friends went on a ski trip. He was attempting to run up the slope but kept sliding, and even from a distance, he could pick out which laughter was yours; it was probably the only remedy to an otherwise heartbreaking weekend, considering that you were there with your then-boyfriend, Namjoon.

Reminiscing those causes his heart to feel like floating, like always, then the words “nobody dates my sister” pulls that heart down to crash into reality, like always, too, the reality being that you’re his best friend’s older sibling.

You’ve been off-limits since Jimin threatened Jungkook and their other friends about cutting off their dicks if anybody tried to date you when they were 16, but you were probably off-limits even before that. Jungkook mentally shakes his head.

He doesn’t like being told what to do but then again, Jimin is his best friend, the tiny feisty 10-year old who fought off the bullies who tried to take Jungkook’s snacks. It had been them against the world since then, and so far, the only person he thinks who’d ever come between them is you.

Jungkook is pulled out of his thoughts at your call of his name, prompting you to repeat what you just said.

“I said, thanks again for being there for my brother like, ever since. If it was just me I would’ve disowned him a long time ago.”

Jungkook giggles, already used to the drama that is your sibling relationship. He’d witnessed too many wrestling matches, scream fests, and pulled pranks in the last 15 years. While you’ve both gone past those, your complaints about each other is something you haven’t really outgrown yet.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t disown him,” Jungkook chuckles, the words ‘he’s the only link I have to you’ quickly dissipating in his mind.

“You know he just craves your attention and riling you up is the way he does it, younger sibling and all. I would’ve done that if my brother wasn’t 7 years older. Jimin tends to be immature around you but he’s the best person I know. I wouldn’t have survived anything if it weren’t for him.”

This brings a smile to your face, their origin story warming your heart more than you care to admit. Your brother is fierce and a fighter, you’d give him that.

“Well, he’s just as lucky to have you, Kook.”

It’s the tenderness in your voice that makes him feel like he’d just won a prize, and he wishes you don’t notice the flush of his cheeks. If you do, you don’t mention it, because not long after, you say that you’ll wash up, signaling him that it’s time to go.

Jungkook drives home that night feeling like his pre-adolescent self, the giddy feeling of when you first pinched his cheeks the same one he feels right now. It’s when he first developed his crush on you - you’d been arguing with Jimin and said you wished he was as behaved and as adorable as Jungkook, prompting your brother to point out Jungkook’s large nose, which you responded with by saying it adds to his charm.

Petty fights, like always, but it’s when you told him to not listen to what other people say if they’re out to put him down did Jungkook realize that you and Jimin were cut from the same cloth.

Soon after, every little moment with you, every glimpse of your life outside of being his best friend’s sister became more and more enthralling to him. The fact that you were getting prettier each year just served to solidify his affection for you. And also made it difficult to hide his hard-on every time you’d show up for breakfast in your cloth shorts when he’d sleep over your parents’ house, or when he’d see you in your pretty outfits in the bars you all frequented once he was in Seoul for college.

He’d let himself think of you during the times he wasn’t in a relationship, and he’d slowly let go of the bit of hope he’d have every time you were in one, partly because your relationships were usually long-term, compared to his, and also because your ex-boyfriends were nothing like him, which is safe to say that he wasn’t your type.

Maybe it was the age, the level of maturity, maybe it was the sense of security, maybe he’s just not the kind of guy who could give you what you want, although honestly he doesn’t know exactly what that is.

But if Namjoon - your intelligent, upstanding, businessman ex-boyfriend who was also really handsome and kind - and your subsequent heartbreak are anything to go by, then Jungkook is clearly reaching for the stars with you. Not that you’re out of his league, but he’s more like in the outskirts, just lying in the edges, the border between what’s possible and what isn’t, but definitely far from the center of action. Even tonight, the most time you’d spent together in years that wasn’t in a party, was because Jimin had been hurt.

If anything, though, his long standing admiration for you hadn’t really gone away. And he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

The weekend with Jimin staying with you wasn’t that unbearable, primarily because he was rendered immobile on your bed and was usually sleepy. You were thankful that Jungkook dropped by to keep your brother company while you caught up on errands and chores.

With another work week coming filled with meetings and events, you had Jimin stay with Jungkook first. He insisted it wasn’t a bother; his work as a freelance artist and a part-time tattooist gives him control of his time.

It’s the weekend after the incident when you hear a knock on the door, not expecting to see Jimin with his casted ankle and crunches; behind him are 3 large luggages and a few boxes.

You’re just about to process the sight before you when he says, “I got sacked from the company when I said I couldn’t get back to work next week. And I can’t afford to pay rent anymore, even if I get a roommate and I…” he turns to you, almost shameful, “I have nowhere else to go.”

You sigh because really, your relationship with your brother is hinged on fights you don’t really mean, pettiness that drives you crazy, and an unconditional love that you both deny but undeniably share. So you open the door wider and laugh at his “you’re the best sister in the world” claim and your usual response of “you only have one.”

Jungkook arrives with the last box and you help bring in all the stuff that seems never-ending, making you wonder how these fit in his car and how he managed to bring everything, including your brother.

“Park Jimin, you have so much stuff! You might as well have hired a mover,” you cry out.

“Oh I did,” Jimin answers, pointing to Jungkook.

You cock an eyebrow because obviously, movers get paid.

“I told him you said you’re gonna make us dinner.”

“Except I didn’t,” you scrunch your eyebrows and turn to Jungkook, amused at his sudden change of expression, bambi eyes widening at his innocence.

“I swear, he seemed so convincing,” Jungkook claims, hands held up as if in surrender. He bites his lips and looks at the ground. “I can just go, really. I’ll just force him to treat me to lunch when he’s healed and I can wrestle him if he doesn’t.”

“Don’t be silly, Kook. Stay for dinner,” you crack a smile. You walk to your kitchen and take out the pork belly to thaw. “I won’t make you steak though. That’s reserved for my wine nights when I want to bask in my singleness,” you call out.

“Also,” you turn to Jimin, “you don’t deserve my steak.”

Your brother laughs, knowing that it’s your way to mask the kindness you’re showing.

Later that night, with dinner out of the way and your spare bedroom set up for Jimin to stay, you guide him to the sofa bed and make sure his foot is elevated, bell just within his reach that you instructed him to ring when he needs you.

“Thanks, ___. You—”

“Are the best sister in the world, I know,” you cut him off.

“I was gonna say you should get some rest and to not worry about me. I’ll be fine,” he smiles.

You nod and head out the room, the worried look on your face not going unnoticed by Jungkook, who’d just finished wiping the dishes.

“Everything okay, ___?”

You heave out a sigh.

“What the fuck am I gonna do with him, Kook?” You ask, the reality of your injured and now unemployed brother dawning on you. “What am I gonna tell my parents?”

Oddly enough, it’s when you and Jimin were finally adults did your parents think to check up on you both. Perhaps living under the same roof didn’t warrant that, but with both children now living independently hundreds of miles away from them, they’ve ensured to call every week. Your conversations mostly revolve around Jimin, though, the words “take care of your brother” not having an expiration date, apparently.

You know the weight of the words - it’s not just because you’re older but because by your parents’ standards, you’re also the more stable and financially secure one by nature of your 9-5 corporate job in a fancy building that requires you to wear corporate attires, in contrast to Jimin’s late-nights in a dance studio busting moves in sweats.

Your parents are partial to your kind of work, given that they’ve spent more than half their lives in the same field and always wished you’d both do the same, even if you promised yourself you wouldn’t give in to the world that took so much of your parents’ time from you.

Much as you want to believe you’re just doing your job as the older child by entering the industry, you were too much of a people-pleaser who just wanted to make her parents proud.

Jimin, on the other hand, was smart enough to only apply to the performing arts programs of prestigious universities in Seoul and was good enough to actually land a scholarship in the same school as you; your parents were backed in a corner and couldn’t do anything.

You’d never tell Jimin but you always admired him for that; it takes a lot to stand up to your parents without actually standing up to them. You’re just glad that between the both of you, someone was brave enough to go for what they genuinely wanted.

“Tell them the truth?” Jungkook shrugs. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You act like you don’t know what my parents are like.”

True, Jungkook thinks, but he also knows things have improved on their end. “Well, if anything, they’re more receptive now. They would congratulate Jimin on the choreographies they’d see those idol groups dance. They ask him about work, too.”

You smile at the thought, something your brother never mentioned, but you can imagine how happy that might’ve made him. Jimin, as you’ve found out, is a sweetheart to his friends - affectionate in all ways and very expressive - something he isn’t to you and your parents. The same can be said about you, and you soften at the thought that you and Jimin really aren’t that much different from each other.

Jungkook picks up on the thoughts going through your head. “He probably didn’t tell you because you know him, he’d go all soft if he does, and Jimin has this persona when it comes to you. And it isn’t the soft one.”

“Goes both ways, I guess.”

“It’s not the end of the world, and he doesn’t seem to think so. He’s going to be fine.”

Jimin, in all sense of the word, is not fine. It took a few days until he cracked. He went from being an obedient patient who followed the doctor’s order of staying in bed, to one who constantly walked around and complained that he had nothing to do.

Going on dating apps makes him sad, looking at job openings makes him sad, not being able to move and dance makes him sad. And your heart breaks for him, knowing what it’s like to lose your sense of direction and motivation at the loss of something or someone important. You allow him to let out his frustrations, though, listen to him when he rants, feed him his favorite food, and call Jungkook over with his PS4 that isn’t actually broken.

In fact, calling Jungkook has been your go-to, especially when you’re running out of things to say to comfort Jimin. Most times it’s really just so they could play PS4 together, prompting Jungkook to leave it at your place so Jimin could stay preoccupied and not feel too down when the job lists come up empty. He tires easily though, and it’s after he’s been tucked in bed that you usually settle for a cup of tea in the kitchen, Jungkook now the one listening to you talk.

It usually starts with the topic of Jimin, followed by some memory from your childhood that you and Jungkook get hysterical over, followed by a story about your work, and then a story about his. His stories are more interesting though. He shows you the paintings and digital pieces he makes for clients, and tells you amusing bits about his tattooing gig like amusing patterns and memorable customers.

Hearing all this sends warmth through you because of how much he’s grown. While you’re only 3 years older, you met Jungkook when he was a shy 10 year-old, a complete opposite to you and Jimin’s naturally sociable selves. He went from smiling sheepishly to joking around and giving you high-fives in the 5 years before you went to Seoul to study.

Of course he’s grown when he followed your brother to the same university, having seen him with different girls, going to the same parties because your friends had taken a liking to him, and attending his art exhibitions. He went from greeting you under his breath to calling out to you at a bar while he’s surrounded by his peers.

This was the kid who used to follow your brother around - even joined the dance club in high school - and would dunk his head in water if you asked him to, but now he’s forged his own path, doing what he loves, and enjoying every bit of his time that he controls.

Personally, you’re also just happy that he can be available for your brother and for you, too, seeing that the nights you used to spend forcing yourself to sleep are now spent in good conversation with him.

He’s also gotten way more attractive in the past few years, something you’ve only noticed now. Perhaps it has much to do with the physical closeness when you talk - your kitchen bar isn’t that long, anyway - where you’re able to pay more attention to his defined jawline, his dark eyes that anybody could get lost in, the curve of his nose, and the perfectly-placed beauty marks on his face. Come to think of it, maybe Jungkook has always been handsome, but you stop your thoughts before they go anywhere restricted.

It’s one Saturday night when you arrive home, after having drinks with your friends, to a very drunk Jimin and a tipsy Jungkook, gorging on fried chicken. Just thinking of cleaning up is already giving you a headache, which is aggravated by your brother’s drunk singing of classic yet cringey sad love songs.

“Yah! Look at the mess you’ve made,” you smack Jimin’s arm, pointing to the chicken crumbs on the floor. “And alcohol, seriously? You can barely walk properly and now you’re drinking?”

“I’m injured, unemployed, homeless, and heartbroken. Leave me alone,” is all he says, then proceeds to belt out an insanely high note that pierces your ears and which causes Jungkook to laugh, used to this already and may have been enduring this the past hour or so.

“He’s been like this for the past 4 hours,” Jungkook says.

“And you let him?”

At the final high note, Jimin passes out on the couch, body limp over the empty space to his left.

“He wanted to drink his frustrations away, thought it might help,” Jungkook responds.

You sigh in annoyance but think he’s right, too. Jimin was out drinking his frustrations the night he got injured but at least now he’s doing it in the safety of your home.

“I guess,” you shrug. “Can you take him to his room before he severs his neck?”

Jungkook laughs but follows. He carries Jimin over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and you pretend to not look hot and bothered at how easily he could carry your dead-weight brother.

You follow to the room shortly and place an aspirin and orange juice on the side table, knowing it’s Jimin’s hangover drink. You remove the strands of hair that have stuck to his forehead and tuck him under the covers.

Jungkook looks at you fondly; for someone who always claims you should’ve disowned her brother, you sure have a very affectionate way of showing it.

You step out of the room and take in Jungkook’s tipsy state, red cheeks and glassy eyes giving him away.

“You should stay,” you tell him. “You drank and I doubt you’d sober up anytime soon, but try anyway.”

He nervously accepts but not for the reasons you think. He’s nervous because aside from those sleepovers at your house when you were younger, this is the first time he’s sleeping under the same roof as you, and that makes him giddy but anxious at the same time. He hopes you don’t catch him mid-dream saying your name; that would be too awkward to explain.

He goes back to the living room post-shower, a blanket and large pillow on the couch and you, tucked in the corner with a glass of juice.

“Did you want to sleep already? I can go to my room if you are.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m not that sleepy yet, you can stay.”

He refuses your offer of a drink. Unsure of the appropriate distance from you now that there’s space to go around, he settles on the other end of the couch. You smile at him as he sinks on the corner and he smiles back as you take baby sips from the glass. You both settle in comfortable silence, appreciating the quiet as a reprieve from the mind-numbing noise from earlier.

You take a big gulp and he couldn’t hold the chuckle at your wide eyes hidden behind the glass.

“So I’m guessing your hangover drink is apple juice?” He asks, not missing the similarity with your brother.

“Yeah. Jimin hates it so I’m sure he’ll never take it. He used to finish all the orange juice at home and I was mad because I wanted orange juice, too,” you say with a pout. Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at how adorable you look and goes for an ah, that’s why face because he remembers you fighting Jimin over it before.

“So you just switched to apple juice?”

“Yeah, pretty much. It’s really good. I thought he’d switch too just to annoy me but he said he really doesn’t like it.”

“Look at you two, being all civilized for once,” Jungkook teases. You throw a pillow at him and laugh at his comment, but you don’t disagree.

“Yah! We’ve always been civilized, okay?”

“Now that is a lie. May I remind you of the time you two wrestled in front of me over a piece of pop tart. How you tackled him to the ground and he pulled your hair and the innocent treat was crushed in the process.”

“Hey, I was 15 and I called dibs on the strawberry!”

“Or that time you both wanted to watch different movies and had me choose and I felt like I was signing a death sentence either way? But it didn’t matter because you still got into a pillow fight?”

“His choices were always so boring!”

“Or that time when…” You throw him another pillow.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. We weren’t always civilized,” you give up, laughing so hard with him at the memories. “You witnessed the worst parts of us, huh?”

“I didn’t really have a choice, did I?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow.

“Well, you were the only one who stayed. The rest of your friends would run out once Jimin and I started going at it.”

He laughs at this because if only you knew why he always stayed. He actually liked that you’d let him referee you two, he felt wanted.

“Hmm, it takes a lot to handle the Park siblings, I don’t blame them.”

“Wow, Jeon Jungkook. Calling out your elder. Where is this bravery coming from?” You tease.

“I drank, remember?”

“Not much though.”

He shrugs. He doesn’t know, too, but he likes seeing you look flustered. “Enough liquid courage, I guess.”

You deem his answer satisfactory but it does make you recall all those petty fights growing up.

“Sorry you had to witness all that,” you say, giving him a shy smile. “Our personalities were always just clashing and it was harder not to fight each other.”

“I think you two are just so similar, that’s why.”

You look at Jungkook, eyes wide at the statement you’d only ever thought to yourself.

“He thinks the world of you, you know?” He continues, sensing your now serious demeanor. “He used to tell the mean older kids that you’re his sister and you’ll fight them if they hurt him because he just knows you’d protect him no matter what.”

You laugh and roll your eyes but Jungkook knows you agree.

“For schoolwork, he would always write about you as his role model or the person he looks up to.” Jungkook doesn’t miss how your eyes soften at this. “He never found out that I knew but I’ve read parts, how he wanted to be strong and kind like you, to be independent and smart and hardworking like you.”

Maybe it’s the remnants of alcohol, or this apple juice is just fucking delicious but you’re getting emotional.

“And honestly, I don’t think that’s changed. He’ll always look up to you, whether he’ll say it or not.”

And there goes the water works, causing panic in Jungkook and he immediately goes to you. Noticing your non-movement, he uses the edges of his hoodie to wipe the tears that have begun flowing from your eyes. He stills for a moment but seeing how you haven’t pushed him away, he continues.

You look up at him with watery eyes and quivering lips. Somehow you should be embarrassed but something about Jungkook having seen the worst of you and being nothing but a huge help these past few weeks, you feel safe. No judgment whatsoever, just an air of understanding and care.

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask, and Jungkook feels weak at how you look. He didn’t mean to make you sad but all he wants to do now is hug you until you feel better.

“Because you’ve been so worried and so hard on yourself, as if it’s only your burden to carry.”

You try to object but he cuts you. “Jimin’s an adult. He’s crying and drinking and sulking but that’s normal. He’ll be fine and get himself together. I know that. Even he knows that. You know why? Because it’s what he’s seen you do.” Jungkook wipes another stray tear.

“Whether it’s a breakup or a work thing, he’s seen you take hits but never back down, never let anybody walk all over you, never let them take away the best parts of you. He’s struggled before, too, but he always got back up.”

“He’s good and strong that way,” you reply softly.

“Like I said, he has a good role model,” he smiles, nudging your shoulder.

It’s meant to be playful but it’s comforting for you, and you’re leaning on his shoulder before you know it, ignoring the way he briefly stills at your action.

“You’re a good person, Kook. We’re lucky to have you.”

You’re so close to him and he can feel the heat radiate from you. It’s too quiet that he’s afraid you’d hear the thrumming of his heart, from your words and the affection behind your still head on his shoulder. The situation calls for it, he thinks, so he lays his hand on your back and rubs circles on it.

He’ll chalk it up to liquid courage again if you ask, but you don’t. Instead you snuggle closer, chasing his warmth. He swears he could pass out with just this, but he tortures himself more by holding you even closer and he swears, even with his thick hoodie, he could feel your smile.

Over a month since the gutter incident - as you like to call it - you, Jimin, and Jungkook have found a pattern of cohabitation, and yes, that includes Jungkook, seeing as how he’s become a staple in your household and your life.

At some point, Jimin had sulked less and would spend his time watching dance videos to remind himself of the feeling, even if it was just virtual. He’d even expanded his choice of employment by checking job openings as a fitness instructor and a ballet teacher for children.

He’d also done his regular foot exercise once the pain became bearable. Still unemployed and heartbroken though, he’s been shameless in making your place his own home, with most of his belongings now removed from their boxes, and inviting Jungkook over any time, any day. Not that you minded though, since he’s been nothing but a literal angel.

Living in a studio on his own, Jungkook usually has ramen or street food as dinner, which is why Jimin used to invite him over his shared apartment with Taehyung so that Jungkook could at least have home cooked meals every once in a while.

It’s why he’s often over your place on weeknights he doesn’t have a shift at the tattoo parlor. That and because Jimin still wants him over to play video games. Jungkook brings food over or pays for delivery though, and you welcome the initiative.

On weekends, you’re all busy doing your own thing in the living room together, which carries over to movie nights. The young ones pass up on their friends’ invites to a party while you, well, your friends would rather spend their weeknights with their partners instead. So your night of basking in your singleness now means doing so with your brat of a brother and his dependable best friend.

It’s a Saturday afternoon when you get home from doing errands and you find both men in your living room, with Jimin reading a book on some dancer’s biography and Jungkook busy on his laptop. Your brother’s face pops on the screen and you decide it’s not a personal matter so you plop next to Jungkook on the floor and softly rest your chin on his shoulder, something you’ve maybe done once or twice before.

“What you up to?” You ask, an impressed look on your face at the snippets of Jimin dancing, some of which you’ve never seen before.

“I’m working on his application video,” he says, pointing to your brother. “Since he’s not able to dance when he tries for jobs, he thinks sending them a video to show his skills will help.”

“Oh, like a visual CV of some sort?”

“Yes!” Jimin states. “Want them to know what they’re missing out on, and that’s a lot.”

You roll your eyes but mentally agree; your brother is the most talented person you know.

“Kookie’s been kind enough to work on it for me although he’s been on it for hours,” he continues, a playful smile on his face.

“Give him a break, Chim. He’s done so much for you already,” you say, getting your own laptop and setting it up on the table.

“Nah, it’s the least I can do. He’s helped me so much, ___.”

“He fought off your bullies 15 years ago…” You cock an eyebrow.

Jungkook chuckles. “Yes. And more. Helped me with school work, my confidence, my social skills…”

“Gave him tips to woo girls because he was too shy to ask them on dates,” Jimin adds.

“Hmm,” you mumble. “What you gotta be shy for? Just flash them your smile or show them your toned arms, they’ll probably jump on you right there,” you say nonchalantly, unaware of the way Jungkook’s heart stills at your comment.

“He doesn’t want them to jump on him, ___. He wants them to actually like him, or love, whatever. He’s a romantic, you know,” Jimin teases. “Would travel to the ends of the earth or fight to the death for the woman he loves, whoever she is,” he says matter-of-factly, unaware of the way Jungkook’s breath hitches because if Jimin only knew.

“Aww, Kook. That’s cute,” is all you say, smile genuine though, he wishes he could see it everyday. But cute, really? That’s it?

He chooses not to dwell on it and instead asks you what you’re up to, to which you respond that it’s a presentation you have to work on. You’re frustrated at your lack of design eye and it looks so bare; you want it to look professional but still eye-catching.

“Maybe I can help!” Jungkook states.

But of course, you think. You’ve been accommodating an actual graphic designer in your home, surely it’s fair that he help you out, right?

“Yes please, Kook. I need to blow these people away with my smarts and my non-existent creativity,” you laugh.

Jungkook sets aside his laptop, adoringly quick to prioritize helping you, and works on your presentation. He knows just the right color and font combo, even helping out on which details to include, what visuals to add, and how to make it exactly how you want.

You’re amused at how easily he works on it. He's meticulous, working on the size of the texts and the angles of the patterns. Jimin chides him for his perfectionism but unbeknownst to both of you, Jungkook’s laser focus is a means of distraction with how physically close you’ve been to him the past hour, eyes flicking from him to the screen.

He wants this to last but also can’t wait for it to be over because of how nervous he is, especially with your constant praises for something really basic, but which he finds so charming all the same.

Pretty soon he finishes and returns your laptop to you and retrieves his, quick to get back to work and focus on something else, which still proves futile once you remove your sweater to reveal a camisole underneath, and tie your hair on a high bun, thus exposing more of your shoulders and neck.

He shakes off the tingles he feels, pretends to be completely unbothered by his attraction towards you that seems to intensify day-by-day. He looks forward to seeing you, and when he doesn’t, he yearns to. He’d been used to admiring you from afar but these past weeks showed that he has all the reasons to admire you even up close.

You’re just as brilliant, feisty, and funny; sassy too like Jimin but in a captivating way, yet so kind-hearted just the same.

The three of you settle in a comfortable silence, each busy with your own task at hand. With your knees touching Jungkook’s, your questions on any additions you make on the presentation, and him asking for your approval on the video (which he seeks, oddly enough from you and not from Jimin), your eventual quick agreement on dinner and your teamwork in preparing it, it all feels so familiar, like it’s home.

The next evening, you find yourself sandwiched between Jungkook to your right and Jimin to your left, who moved from his center seat to lie down, with half of his tiny body settled comfortably on top of you and Jungkook. Your brother insisted on watching “How to Be Single” tonight, like a slap to all your faces.

It’s during one of the scenes with the protagonist’s ex when Jimin randomly asks, “___, do you regret breaking up with Namjoon?”

It may seem like a question out of left field, but with everything that’s happened, Jimin has been quite reflective lately, particularly about love. He’s had his fair share of partners but unlike you, is more a feeler than a thinker; gets out of relationships as fast as he gets into them; takes it one day at a time whereas you always have to consider the future.

You don’t need to ponder on the question; you’ve gone through this multiple times with your best friends but never really with your brother.

“Sometimes. But there was too much on the line and it was unfair to both of us if we carried on.” You sigh, recalling the moment you both decided it wouldn’t work. “It was something we had to do but doesn’t mean it hurt any less.”

Jimin hums, thinking back to the days he’d barge in your apartment and ask for leftovers when really, he just wanted to be near you so you had someone to cry to, just in case. That was over 2 years ago and it took you a year to finally say that you were over the relationship. He used to note your choice of words - “I’m over us,” never “I’m over him.”

Next to you, Jungkook is picking on his nails, unsure if he should be part of the conversation. He’d heard about the break up since you had common friends. It was quite the shock, knowing how you and Namjoon were.

You pick up this nervous habit, aware that he might not know what really happened. It wasn’t a secret but there was more to the story.

“We just wanted different things,” you say then turning to both of them, “so you two better make sure you’re on the same page with the person you date, talk about what lies ahead, what you want, what you’re willing to compromise and what you aren’t.”

“That’s good advice, yeah Kookie?” Jimin says.

“Why you focusing on me?” Jungkook asks.

“You’re the one focused on the dating, not the settling. You avoid those conversations.”

“You don’t want to settle?” You ask, now curious. You’ve seen him with girlfriends but thinking back now, his relationships never really lasted.

“It’s not that,” he glares at Jimin. “I’m more of a live-in-the-moment kind of guy. Thinking about the future is great, I mean, any mature individual does that, it’s just…”

He heaves out a sigh, hoping he’s not shooting himself in the foot with his statement. “What good is the future if you don’t take care of what you have right now? Isn’t the present more important because it’s what’s assured? The future is literally dependent on that, so the now is what I want to focus on.”

He rests his head on the couch, nervous of your reaction. He knows you’re a planner, needs to see things far ahead to know what to do.

There’s no one way to go about life, he acknowledges that. He just doesn’t want you to think he’s not a serious guy. With his developing feelings for you, not seeing him as a potential partner is literally the worst thing that could happen.

Jimin continues with the movie he paused but in your mind, all you could think about was what Jungkook said. If you and Namjoon hadn’t obsessed about the future, would things have been different? Would you still be together?

The sinking feeling comes at the realization that maybe they still wouldn’t. What if your ‘present’ with him then wasn’t good enough in the first place? That the “could be” was more exciting than the “what is”? Suddenly there’s clarity, you just don’t know if it’s the good kind.

Still, it doesn’t keep you from sinking further down the couch until you’re leaning on Jungkook’s shoulder. And like the few times that you have, there’s a comforting feeling in the act.

“You must’ve made your ex-girlfriends really happy, huh Kook?” You ask, head shuffling near his upper arm. “Focusing on the present and the moments and all that.”

You wish it was something you did, but Namjoon was just like you.

“I guess you could say that,” he answers shyly.

“But that was just it though, right Kook?” Jimin says. “Made them happy but not enough to fall in love.”

This prompts you to look at him, wide eyes full of questions. “How come?”

He turns to you and if he tried enough, Jimin right behind you would blur and there’s just you, overhead light illuminating the best parts of your face which is, well, everything. You’re absolutely breathtaking.

And at your question - how come he never fell in love - comes his own realization. For all of his talk of living in the moment, tucked in the corner of his mind is the thought of the future he’s only ever dreamed about, the one that he’s always wanted, well, with you.

“I - I actually don’t know.”

Adopting your brother, and by extension Jungkook, isn’t as bad as you expected. Sure, Jimin is still a diva and annoys you just because he wants to, but he makes you laugh more, compliments your cooking more, and encourages you to go out and have fun. Most times you do, but if you’re being honest, you’ve been enjoying time spent with him and Jungkook more.

Your movie and PS4 nights are chaotic and only egos are harmed. You and Jungkook help Jimin with job hunting, monitor his practice dancing, and watch dance videos with him. Two months since the gutter incident, you’ve gone to the park, the beach, and the river, perfected making choco-walnut cookies, and built fairy houses.

Your days are more tiring yet satisfying, as if your apartment actually feels like a sanctuary, save for Jimin’s provocation leading to your bickering, but even that has become a welcome addition in your daily life as well.

Jungkook though is altogether a different story. You two have gone grocery shopping together more than once, had spent some mornings on a run, and some weeknights he even picks you up from work then you both grab some of Jimin’s favorite food for dinner. Those are on top of the many nights you’ve spent drinking whatever in the living room, bidding him goodnight either out the door or on your couch. You’re not exactly sure what to make of the giddiness but you shut down whatever unusual feeling there is before they start to mean anything more.

It started with a missed deadline, then an oversight of a risk, then your workmate Chul getting the last laugh. Sometimes, no matter how good you think things are going, all it takes is an extremely bad week, made up of extremely bad moments, to make you doubt yourself. You think some more, then you end up doubting everything else.

Am I good enough for this job? Can I really make a career here? Is this what I really want? Is this going to make me happy? Why the fuck am I still single? It’s the sudden feeling of uncertainty that overwhelms you, makes you second-guess, and suddenly you’re not as stable and secure as you thought you were.

It’s this feeling that you carry over the day after at your friend Jin’s and his wife’s baby shower. Between their growing family, Yoongi’s hit-making record label, Hoseok’s renewed contract as a travel show host, Yuri’s PhD, and Na-eun’s engagement to her college boyfriend, you feel so… lost. Like you’re just getting by, just letting time pass until there’s something big and meaningful to look forward to again, whatever that is.

Of course your friends would never make you feel any less; that’s really on you, which is probably worse.

The party is on full swing; gifts have been given and time has come for full-on socializing where you all get to talk about how great your individual lives are. Except for you. And maybe Eun-ha on the corner who doesn’t seem to be happy being here, but that’s not your problem.

Somewhere near the bar is Jungkook, beer in hand and clearly enjoying himself. He’s a staple in events like this and he fits right in with everyone else - self-assured, content, in control, and may be on his way to a date, seeing as how that pretty girl hasn’t left his side all afternoon. Not that you were monitoring, though.

For once, you’re actually hoping Jimin was here so you can whine together, but the group he used to choreograph for invited him to their concert, so there’s that.

You’re on your third glass of champagne when you head inside Jin’s enormous house, away from the laughter and obvious put-together lives of your friends, when you see him, the man who was once your embodiment of stability, of a “good and secure life,” as your parents had said.

He sees you, flashes his dimple-bearing smile, and walks towards you, looking extremely good in a white polo and denim jacket, brown hair slicked back.

“___!” He greets, his arms immediately engulfing you in a tight hug, providing you the physical warmth that you haven’t felt in a while. You sigh into him, your head on his firm chest, his now sturdier frame but a reminder of the time that's passed.

You linger, prompting him to gently stroke your back like he used to after a long day at work.

“You needed this, huh?” He observes, voice low and comforting.

You release yourself from his hold and look up at him, his sweet smile a contrast to his commanding presence.

“Unfortunately,” you sigh.

“Boss still not giving you due credit? Colleagues still not making it any easier? Stress still at an all-time high?” He asks, and it’s either he still reads you so well or your problems - or you - haven’t changed one bit.

“You’re just not your usual energetic self,” he continues. “I mean, I haven’t seen your genuine smile since you arrived.”

He’s been watching you? Somehow that sends heat to your cheeks and quickens your heartbeat.

“Just tired, is all. Plus, Jimin’s been living at home after a little accident,” you finally respond.

His face makes this charming worried expression. “House already a makeshift wrestling ring?” He laughs.

“You’d be surprised at how little damage there is in my apartment. Safe to say we’ve grown up,” you say, wide smile finally adorning your face, which he returns. You haven’t felt this light the whole week.

“It’s nice to see you again, Joonie.”

You and Namjoon find a spot in the large living room, with the 2-seater couch being the only one available, the physical closeness making it difficult not to be mesmerized by his gorgeous face. His laugh is still the same, the feel of his hand under yours is still the same; the attention he gives, his thoughtful and wise words, and ability to make you feel cared for haven’t changed.

You’re smiling more, eyes sparkling for sure, and you can’t help the way your body reacts the way it does - knees chasing his, hand tucking your hair behind your ear, voice going a key higher.

He’s still the same confident and self-assured man that you fell in love with, that you once saw a life with. It’s almost intoxicating, the way he speaks, sees the world, sees himself. You could easily fall into this again, into the ideal, the safe and secure, the expected, the could be. You think of the reasons why it didn’t work out, of what you chose when you decided to call it quits. His phone rings. He excuses himself but you still hear him. And you’re reminded why.

“I’m sure the gown looks beautiful, love. I’ll leave the party soon and meet you and our parents at the wedding planners’ office. See you in a bit.”

Your heart should be breaking but it’s just your pride that does.

“I’m sorry, it was my uh—“ he says, unsure.

“Your fiancé,” you smile, as if reminding him.

“Yeah it’s… it’s pretty recent and we uh… we’re planning to have it in 3 months,” he explains, eyes turning sullen, lips curling into an apologetic smile.

“Congratulations, Namjoon. I’m so glad you’re happy,” you say, hoping he picks up the sincerity in your voice.

He sits across from you again, hand on top of yours, his smile hopeful, and for the first time, you see him struggle with what to say. So you don’t give him a chance to.

“What are you still doing here?” You playfully nudge him. “You have somewhere else to be.”

“You’ll be okay?”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

He lingers this time. Maybe in another life you would’ve worked out, you would’ve loved each other better, you would’ve fought for each other. But not in this.

He leans forward and places a soft kiss on your forehead and you shut your eyes, absorbing all the words he wishes he could say. I’m sorry. I will always care about you. I hope you find your happiness, too.

Your eyes follow him as he walks out the door, out to the woman who could definitely give him what you couldn’t. From across the room, a pair of eyes follows your movement too, the way it has since you entered the party four hours ago.

Whatever worry you initially had about getting drunk at your friend’s baby shower is out the window. You don’t mind anymore, not with your 5th glass of champagne and your 3 shots of vodka because of course, it’s Jin. You laugh along with your friends although you’re too dazed to process what they’re saying.

Your jaw is sore from laughing over things you don’t understand so you decide to head inside, maybe call it a night and take the drinking back to your place; at least you’d be in your pjs and not in a tight dress and heels.

You’re pulling open a door that just won’t budge and you exert what little energy you have, causing you to trip on yourself only to be held steady by strong hands on your waist.

“That’s a sliding door, ___,” the familiar voice says, tone low but still teasing.

You turn around and meet chocolate eyes looking down at you and you stare back even in your embarrassment.

“I… I think I’m drunk,” you stutter.

You’re met with laughter. “No shit, ___. Think I didn’t notice that?”

“I…” You say, looking down at the hands still holding onto you.

He quickly removes them, worry painting his face and you wave him off before he could apologize.

“Let’s go to a bar, Jungkook.”

You reasoned your decreased alcohol tolerance to your friends, which they didn’t buy but waved you off without much fanfare. They probably sensed you were out of it for a while. Or probably saw the exchange with Namjoon, who knows.

But you’re now at a bar eating chicken wings and fries like you’re about to run out of food, the guy next to you chuckling and reminding you to breathe every once in a while.

You finish your meal quickly and pout when you realize he’s barely touched his food.

“You’re not eating,” you state the obvious.

“Sorry, too entertained,” he laughs, the child-like sound now so familiar, you’d recognize it anywhere.

He’s just smiling at you and you feel so small under his gaze. He saw you talking with Namjoon, taking shots, and almost tripping earlier. He’s probably wondering who this person is; definitely not the one who’s been semi-housing him the past few months.

You bury your face in your hands. “I’m so embarrassed,” you cry out.

“Hey now,” he says, hands gently removing yours from your face. He stops the one tear before it falls off.

“God, how many times have I cried in front of you, Kook? This is humiliating.”

“No one’s counting though,” he states. “It’s your drinks I’m counting and I’m thinking maybe you’ve had enough.”

You nod and he orders a can of soda and a glass of water. With light chatter and glasses clinking in the background, you two fall in comfortable silence. He’s quietly picking on his food, eyes roaming the bar while yours flit from him to the space between you, somehow wishing it isn’t as wide as it is right now.

“I had a bad week,” you finally say. He nods.

“My friends are all accomplishing so many things, achieving their dreams and I’ve been stuck in the same company for 5 years.”

He nods again.

“I’m a 28 year-old who got drunk at a baby shower and flirted with her ex only to find out he’s engaged.”

Jungkook pretends not to be affected at the confirmation that you were indeed flirting with Namjoon but he nods just the same.

“And?” He asks.

“And? I’m in a bar with you, and I cried, and I’m acting like a baby because I had a terrible week and ended up doubting everything and now think I can’t get my life together. I mean, between my brother I can’t properly help, a job I can’t seem to stand out in no matter how hard I try…” You release a deep breath. “And a relationship I couldn’t keep because I wasn’t enough and I…”

“Hey, don’t say that,” he says angrily. “You’re none of those things.”

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have kids. And Namjoon always wanted to be a father,” you blurt, the words not stinging as they used to.

This stuns Jungkook. Jimin had always mentioned it was a mutual breakup but never said anything more. Jungkook didn’t think it was because of this.

“I thought I wanted a family, too. It was so easy to fall into the idea of that kind of life with him because he was the perfect person to have it with. But then one day I just started doubting it,” you sigh, recalling how hard you used to be on yourself for suddenly wanting something different.

“Sometimes I think, what if I gave myself more time, what if eventually I’d be sure?” You take a long breath. “But the uncertainty was too much and it wasn’t fair to him,” you huff. There was no blame game; you both knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“Quite the dealbreaker, huh?” Jungkook wonders.

“Yeah but looking back, the other issues were just bubbling under the surface. The future was so enticing and we talked about it all the time, it seemed much more important than well, us,” you explain.

“It was Jimin who made me realize that I hung onto Namjoon for the relationship, the potential, what it meant. He was the epitome of stability and I was the same for him but at some point, even that wasn’t enough.”

“So, earlier. Why did you, uhm,” he starts, hoping it doesn’t come out wrong.

“Flirt with him?”

Jungkook nods.

“Being with him used to make me feel like I had it together, you know? Like I had it figured out because he did and it was silly but I don’t know, maybe I wanted to trick myself into thinking that by being close to him in any way, I had it together.”

“You don’t need to have it together all the time. You just need to have it together enough.” His whole body turns to you.

“You had one bad week, we all do. But it’s over now, isn’t it? Your friends doing well in their careers? So are you. You know what not to compromise on, what to stand up for, which battles to fight. I’ve heard enough of your stories to know that there are people at work who respect you, look up to you. The way your friends, your brother, and I look up to you.”

Your lips are quivering, forcing yourself not to cry again tonight. He just always knows what to say. “That’s really sweet, Jungkook.”

“Thanks, but I wasn’t trying to be sweet. I was just being honest. You’re a lot of good things to people, ___. Isn’t that what matters? Being a little off at work and drinking then flirting with an ex don’t make you any less of a person. Okay? You’re allowed to slip up every once in a while.”

You let this sink in.

“Look at you, Jeon Jungkook. When did you get this wise? It’s like I just blinked then you’re all of a sudden so grown up.” You tease to keep yourself from breaking down.

“Like I told you, much of what I know, I got from Jimin. And what he knows, he got from you. Maybe try listening to yourself, yeah?” He smirks.

You nod, smile creeping on your face the same way all the heat is rushing to your cheeks. You feel comfortable like this, being vulnerable and sad and doubtful but he’s holding you close without touching you, making you feel safe with just his presence. In the now noisy bar, your bodies angling towards each other, and with his tender smile, you feel a type of intimacy you’ve never felt before. It’s reassuring yet enticing at the same time. And this scares you.

You both stay for another hour until you decide it’s time to head home. Jungkook had taken a cab, too in anticipation of drinking so you both decided to walk back to your apartment, knowing the couple of blocks would be enough to sober you up.

The streets are still alive with the nightlife just starting but the noise starts to tone down once you reach your neighborhood. The long walk is soothing, as Jungkook leaves you to your thoughts, except for the times he has to steady you because, well, your vodka shots are still in your system and a walk isn’t enough to flush them down. Still, you’re calm, a feeling of acceptance overtaking you.

“Thanks for tonight, Jungkook. I hope I didn’t ruin any potential date or anything just because I couldn’t get the door open,” you laugh.

He raises an eyebrow.

“That, uh, girl seemed really into you,” you stammer.

He chuckles, hands in his pockets and cheeks flushed at the implication of your observation.

“That wasn't much, we were just chatting.” He turns to you. “I could see your scrunched eyebrows from where I was and thought you needed help,” he shrugs.

You sigh. He was always helpful, ever since he was a kid.

“You know, you were always the good guy. Jimin’s other friends were so rowdy and immature. Yugyeom was always sprawled on the couch with his feet up like he owned the place; Sejun was always finishing our ice cream, and Sunghoon was such a flirt.”

Jungkook laughs, recalling the times you were scolding all of them for messing up the house and being so annoyingly noisy and eating your snacks.

“You were always the well-behaved and mature one. Like, you barely engaged in their pranks and stupid boy talk. You’d rather watch it all unfold until it was too much and you’d help me in the kitchen always. I remember your glazed potatoes. God, that was so hilarious.”

“That was embarrassing.”

“It was funny! And adorable. You were always so kind.”

“Thanks but uh, I wasn’t trying to be kind. Well, sort of. I wanted to impress you. And I—” He doesn’t know where this is coming from but it’s like word vomit, especially now that you’ve started to walk more slowly and are looking at him.

“It was an opportunity to be near you. Kinda wanted a lot of that back then. Even now, actually.”

You gulp, unsure of what to feel or how to react. You thought you were imagining his lingering looks, or how his eyes shone a tad brighter and his smile was a bit wider when you were around. But he’s not saying what he’s saying, right?

“I, uh. Well, maybe you look up to me like an older—“

“Don’t say sister because I never saw you as one,” he interrupts you, frustration laced in his voice as if the word is venom. “Not when I was a teenager, not in the years after, and especially not now.”

You hesitantly turn to him, his nervous face a contrast to the offended tone of his voice just seconds ago. He nibbles on his lips, a mannerism you noticed when he was a teenager who always seemed shy around you and would only relax after you talked to him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. I didn’t mean to sound angry. I just—“

“That was your angry tone?” You tease, your laugh affirming him that you’re not upset one bit, just… unsure. You’re flattered, definitely; he is a very attractive man. Still your brother’s best friend, though.

This eases him, but prompts him to test the waters.

“I’m a gentle boy, what can I say? Most times, at least,” he says, and you don’t miss the playful tone of this voice, his eyes peering down at you, making your breath hitch and your hands clammy.

You wrap yourself with your arms - really to wipe the sweat off because you’re feeling nervous - but Jungkook takes this differently, as anyone would, and immediately unzips his jacket and puts it on you.

You slow on your tracks and you feel even warmer. He follows your pace but urges you to speed up once he feels a droplet on his cheek. You’re glad you opted to wear low heels today, tiring your calves only a little but allowing you to walk fast enough until you’re on the steps of your apartment in time to miss the sudden downpour.

Well, Jungkook doesn’t because as he enters, a portion of his torso is wet, his black shirt sticking on his skin to tease you of his toned abs that you definitely will be thinking about tonight. Between that, his damp hair, and soaked veiny arm, you curse your mind for the images it’s currently making up.

All he did was indirectly tell you he has a crush on you, right? Or did he? He doesn’t seem as bothered as you expected him to be if that was the case so maybe you misinterpreted?

You can’t stand this wet version of him so you say you’ll get him a towel but are too flustered so you hit the wall as you turn towards the bathroom, eliciting a loud “ow!”

“You okay?” He asks worriedly.

“Yeah, still drunk I guess,” you lie. He smirks and probably knows you’re lying.

“I’ll take care of myself, don’t worry. Go wash up and get ready for bed.”

“Are you ordering me around?” You ask, trying your best to reestablish yourself as the one in authority because you can’t take how this man is making you feel nervous and unsettled and not in control.

“Do you want me to?” He simpers, flustering you even more. What is with him?

You roll your eyes and trudge to your bathroom. You’re technically sober but with Jungkook’s looks, the sudden flirty tone of his voice, and his innuendos, you might as well be drunk again.

You open the door and seconds later he’s by your bedroom, a glass of water in one hand and apple juice in the other. The bottle of aspirin is tucked under his arm by his rib and he asks you to get it and you think he's evil for testing you but you take it, acting unbothered. He follows you to your room and you don’t stop him.

Glasses now on your bedside, you tuck yourself in. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“For what?”

“For staying with me? Listening to me?” You test the waters, too. “For caring for me?” And his smugness disappears. Before you is a man, all strong and tough yet his smile is the tiniest, softest you’ve ever seen on him, and even from where you are, you could see the tips of his ears turn red.

“I really appreciate everything,” you conclude, and you mean it.

He gathers himself before he looks you in the eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Anything you need, just tell me.” You nod.

“Sleep well, ___.”

You don’t sleep well. In fact, even with the rain pouring outside, you feel so hot, you end up shedding your shorts.

The closeness with Jungkook has been gradual and if anything, it’s been comfortable. You convince yourself what he has is probably just a little crush; convincing your heart to still is a different story.

Jungkook, on the other hand, can’t stop smiling. He was testing the waters tonight, gauging how you would react to his flirtation and teasing. It was partly the alcohol but then you’d gone all shy and flustered; he thought it was worth a shot.

He was half expecting you to scold him like you used to do with Sunghoon, or berate him like those guys at work but you did neither. You don’t seem to hate him, even with his indirect confession to you, and that’s really better than what he’d hoped.

You wake up dissatisfied with your sleep and take your hangover necessities; dealing with Jungkook last night did add to your inebriation.

You head out to the kitchen to prepare some beef bone soup to help with the headache, hands trying to remove the sleep from your eyes. You move like you’re on autopilot like most post-night out mornings and then you hear someone gasp.

“Shit, woman. Learn your manners and put some clothes on,” Jimin shouts.

It wouldn’t have been bothersome had Jungkook not been here but of course, he is. Next to your brother, eyes wide and definitely trying not to look at your bare legs. It dawns on you that you indeed removed your shorts because of that very man and your face contorts in shock and embarrassment.

“Fuck. Jimin! Grab me my shorts on my bed, please!!!” You cry out and stand behind the counter.

He’s too scandalized to complain so he rushes to your room and you feel so hot all over. You avoid Jungkook’s face at all costs, which apparently is what he’s also doing.

Jimin throws your shorts on your face. “Get yourself together, jeez,” he scowls.

“You’re the one invading my space, okay, both of you,” you bite back.

Jimin’s making faces like he always does when you scold him and Jungkook sits next to him, chuckling.

“I shouldn’t have welcomed you, you brats. I’m used to walking around my apartment in my underwear so this is a lifestyle change.”

“Oh god, shut it. Nobody wants to imagine you without clothes on,” he cringes.

For some reason, your eyes find Jungkook, who visibly gulps. You glare at both men, and Jimin responds with an evil smile.

You return to what you were meant to do and start getting ingredients. Jungkook starts to feel bad and approaches you, mumbles to Jimin that he’ll just help.

Jungkook appears next to you. “Did you mean that?”

You sigh. “I didn’t. Of course you two are welcome here.”

“I was referring to the other one,” he says with a low voice.

Your eyes widen and you smack his arm. “What is wrong with you? Stop teasing,” you loud-whisper, but he doesn’t miss the way you try to hide your laugh.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he smirks, and you get flustered even more.

You’re a 28-year old getting scandalized over playful comments by this ridiculously good-looking man and you feel so pathetic but you can’t deny that it’s exciting you. It’s been a while since you’ve had someone flirt with you and pay attention to you like this, make you all giddy and entranced as if you’re an adolescent getting her first love letter or being told by her crush that she’s pretty.

There’s playfulness there but affection, too. You see it in the way he stops the teasing and smiles to himself, then proceeds to help you cook, looks at you with fondness while you eat, then forces Jimin to clean up with him.

This continues for the next few weeks. His lingering looks on you are more flirty now and he smirks when you look away and try to hide your flushed face. His tone of voice when Jimin is nearby is lower, as if he’s telling you a secret.

He no longer stiffens when Jimin moves to the corner of the couch and kicks you closer to Jungkook so that your brother can make space for himself. In fact, it’s the opposite now, with Jungkook finding ways to be near you - when the three of you are on a grocery run, when you’re all on the couch for movie night, and especially when Jimin opts to sit on the floor - shuffling closer, knees grazing each other’s.

You’ve kept your head to yourself, fighting the urge to rest it on his shoulder and he definitely noticed this, so he’s started to edge you, in a way. The once lingering finger touches when he hands you something are no more, so are the “accidental” elbow brushes.

He stands close to you just enough for you to feel the heat off him but not enough to feel him. His arm over your chair leaves his hand thisclose to your shoulder and you swear you can feel the sensation even then.

You’d stopped smacking him after this one time he flexed his bicep and you started to imagine how good those arms must look.

You found out shortly after when he and Jimin convinced you to join them in the gym because Jungkook had a voucher to a free yoga class since a client of his is a teacher; safe to say she wasn’t happy when he popped in the studio to say you were taking his slot. Jungkook and Jimin did a workout, your brother now in a better condition.

After the session, they made you wait as they finished and Jungkook really had to remove his red jacket to reveal his stupidly gorgeous toned and tattooed arms in a black fit sleeveless top. He caught you ogling and the devil crossed his arms to fucking flex and smirk when the conversation he was having with one of the trainers didn’t even seem that amusing.

Of course, his outfit just sent your mind into another dimension with the images of what could be underneath that black top and again, you find out one morning exactly how glorious it is.

It’s one of those post-bar night mornings - you’ve allowed Jimin to enjoy the nightlife again as long as he had chaperones, which essentially were you and Jungkook. You’d woken up and stopped by the hallway at the sound of someone gasping and you look up from the hallway, slack jawed as you watch Jungkook pull his shirt off from the back of his neck with one hand, coffee-stained clothing lying on the counter.

His black sweatpants are hanging low on his hips and does he not have any boxers on?? His tiny waist spreads out to his muscular back, and when he turns, his sculpted chest almost blinds you; pecs just the right perk and torso so taut but not intimidating at all. It’s... beautiful. It looks so smooth and captivating; your eyes can’t help but trail down south and is that black ink that’s peeking underneath the waistband? You gulp at the thought of Jungkook having a hip tattoo because what the fuck? Is he trying to kill you? And his…

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” He asks, and you jerk from where you’re standing.

Your eyes turn to the appropriate body part they should be focused on and he’s smiling like he’s an angel, as if he literally didn’t just try to murder you with his exquisite bare body.

His smile is so sweet and you know he’s playing you because he totally caught you drooling at the sight of him. Your throat is dry and suddenly you can’t speak, which really isn’t surprising by now because he’s also taken away your ability to form coherent sentences.

“I, uhm. I’ll get one of Jimin’s.”

“I don’t fit in his clothes. Don’t you have large ones?”

He knows you do, and you nod, unclench the thighs you didn’t even realize had betrayed you, and retrieve one of your oversized Disney t-shirts and approach him. You stay at a safe distance because any closer you might fall into temptation and you throw him the shirt.

He chuckles and turns to his side to slowly put it on because of course there’s a fucking dent down there that he wants to show off.

You turn and trip on your foot because god knows how dizzy you feel from the show he just put on.

“Careful,” he calls out and even with your back turned, you just know he’s smirking.

He beats you to the bathroom shortly after and he took his time.

You decide to wait with your brother who’d been so ecstatic over an audition he landed for a fairly new and small entertainment company as a choreographer for a hip-hop group.

They told him his contemporary dance background and versatility are just what they need and you soften at his joyful face; he says he feels like a new person again. You listen to him excitedly and give encouragement.

You perk at the sound of the bathroom door opening because you really need to clean the wetness down there and you trudge out of the room so you could finally shower, slightly upset at Jungkook’s clothed form.

You groan. “Ugh that was so long,” you mindlessly say.

“Oh it is.” His smirk is back and you are pissed. You bang the door and pull your hair out of frustration.

He doesn’t even need to touch you for you to be a whimpering mess. He knows it. And you’re in trouble.

Jungkook is busy for the next two weeks, having shared that he has a couple of on-site art installations outside of the city and a tattoo piece that will need more than one 5-hour shift. You tried not to seem affected when Jimin teased him since it was going to be on a woman’s breast this time.

“This the same one who had her vagina tattooed? The one who asked you out after?” Jimin asked.

Your eyes were burning your phone screen because you absolutely cannot be affected.

“Yeah,” Jungkook laughed. “That was fun.”

Jin calling you was your saving grace and you spent the next half hour in your room, talking to him over nursery room ideas because Hoseok couldn’t make up his mind over a neon green or a fuschia pink wall and Yoongi wanted dark grey because “babies can’t even identify colors,” which is true but Jin needed you as the one with a more palatable taste.

Jungkook had knocked to say goodbye, which is more than his usual yelling, and you noticed him linger before you heard the steps away from your door.

It was day 5 when you realized why you’d been so grumpy and you hated the moment you did - you miss Jungkook. You’d gotten so used to seeing him every few days - picking you up from work, playing rock-paper-scissors to determine who’ll choose dinner, laughing at his high-pitched child-like laughter, talking to him about work and other things… you even miss his flirting and teasing.

He’d been such a staple in your life the past months, and not just to referee between you and Jimin. Jungkook, with his listening ear, his heartwarming passion for his work, and ability to soothe and comfort you in the silence, just feels so stable. And not in the way you used to think. He’s so laid-back and just there, always dependable, like you’re sure whatever it is you’re feeling, he’ll know what to do and say.

Jimin used to say that Jungkook was always the person he needed for anything and now you understand why. He emits a certain calmness, joy, and consistency, like whether you’re flying or drowning, he’s the pillar grounding you or keeping you afloat.

You’re always tempted to send him a message but you two don’t text and it’d be weird to just start now, although it doesn’t help that he doesn’t text you, too. You shrug it off and convince yourself that it really might just be a silly crush, one he acts on when he’s around you but probably forgets when he isn’t. Or maybe he went out with that girl, who knows?

On the day that he arrives, he's set to drive Jimin to the audition and watch him, too, while you’re just happy to be able to do errands and clean the house on your own.

The doorbell rings and Jimin, whom you’ve reminded to shower so he won’t be late, answers the door and you try not to look intrigued when you hear him rambling about how good Jungkook apparently looks because how else can he look better?

With ash-grey hair, that’s how. You couldn’t help it. You peeked and turned your head before he could turn to look at you.

You’re currently by the kitchen counter, tiptoeing to try to get the cereal box on the top shelf to check if you need to buy another or if it would suffice. Or if it’s even still edible. You’ll be off for a quick grocery run if only you can get this stupid box out.

Then a large hand is touching your lower back and the fresh scent of detergent fills your nose. You stiffen as an arm is raised to easily grab the cereal box you’ve spent the past 5 minutes trying to get and fuck do you miss his touch, his scent that you realize is just as comforting as his soft sweatshirts, and the way you feel a jolt of electricity even at the slightest brush of his body on yours.

He places the box on the counter. “You should’ve asked,” he says, voice low.

“I can do it,” you respond, gaining the courage to look at him and your lips betray you at how they part because he looks so good with his new hair.

“I know. I just like it when you ask.” He tries to keep his eyes on you but they keep falling to your lips, the one he’d been imagining the feel and taste of. But your eyes lock on his, letting yourself be hypnotized.

You feel his touch drift away from you and you stop him, as your hand finds his and keeps it on your waist, and it signals him to grip tighter and pull you closer. And you let him. You angle yourself so you’re standing chest to chest, you could almost feel his heart beat just as fast as yours.

“What else?” You indulge yourself because you just wanna know. You've missed him and you can’t reconcile the flirting with his recent silence.

Jungkook bites his lip, knowing it’s his signal to tell you how he feels.

“I like it when you say my name, when you listen to me talk and take me seriously. When you don’t make me feel bad about the things I do, the things I choose.”

His hand that isn’t on your waist glides through your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It settles on your cheek and you hope he doesn’t notice just how hot it is.

“I like it when you pout and when you smile with your eyes,” he continues. “And I like it when you need me because then I know I’m not the only one, because fuck do I need you,” he continues, both hands pulling you closer to him until his breath grazes your mouth.

“Want you so much,” he mumbles, before he eliminates the distance and you feel his soft lips on yours, moving tenderly, carefully, as if the purpose is to seek validation that you feel the same way, to ask your acceptance of the overwhelming affection he has for you.

Your lips move gently like his, languid yet electrifying and euphoric and you hold onto him for support, just so you won’t lose yourself even more than you already are.

This now feels surreal. You’re not thinking about anything else - not the before or the after - just the feel of him at this very moment and how it’s making you feel alive, carefree, unbound. And you wonder if all your other kisses had felt this good before. Or maybe just different.

You and Jungkook keep your steady pace, focusing on the soothing feel of each other’s lips, of the sensation of something sensuous and tender.

The aggressive pull of the bathroom door jolts you awake from a dream it seems, and you’re ducking down and crouching on the floor behind the counter before your brother notices anything amiss. Jungkook’s surprised but holds his laugh at how scared you look, the first time he’d seen you be afraid of your brother.

“Kook, has my sister left for the grocery?” He calls out from his open room, probably dressing as he speaks.

Jungkook looks up to check on Jimin. “Yeah, she just left,” he answers after deciphering your hand gestures from underneath him.

“Ugh, I forgot to tell her to buy my cereal. I think the one on the top shelf isn’t edible anymore.”

Jungkook smirks, thanking the heavens that Jimin didn’t tell you, otherwise Jungkook wouldn’t have had the best kiss of his life. He felt you; you moved with him, you felt him. And he can’t be happier.

He has a chance with you. He really has a chance with you, and even at the risk of being caught, he’d do this with you over and over again.

“Let’s go,” Jimin calls out. “I’ll just text her.”

“I’m sure she knows,” Jungkook smirks then heads out, leaving you with a dazed feeling and a heart that won’t slow its beating.

Your time alone with your thoughts only served to confuse you even more. It felt nice. He felt nice. You’d never really considered Jungkook as anything more than, well, your brother’s best friend, even if he’d been the one you preferred out of all of Jimin’s friends dating back to middle school.

His well-behaved nature and boyish charms were always endearing to you and even when he grew up, his confidence and compassion just amazed you. But it was always from afar. You think it’s the same with him; his affection may just be a little infatuation borne out of his idea of you growing up. You’ve learned enough that the idea of a person, of a relationship, of a could be isn’t always enough.

Another thing you think about is that Jimin is very protective of his friendships. You know that more than anyone, when you dated Taemin in high school.

You were both seniors and had gotten close because he was Jimin’s dance captain and mentor, someone whom your brother looked up to and admired. Your relationship ended during your first year of college, with both of you saying things you eventually regretted. Safe to say it was your first heartbreak, one that resulted to Jimin’s as well, as his friendship with your ex was also affected.

You and Jimin barely talked about it, seeing his own disappointment because of the resulting strained relationship with Taemin. You thought that the elder would at least maintain a friendship, but he didn’t.

The most Jimin said about it was when he told you, eyes downcast but tone quite angry, to “keep off my friends and don’t date any of them, please.” You were home for a break and he stormed out of your room before you could apologize. You realized later on that his heartbreak was worse than yours; you told yourself you don’t want to be the cause of that pained look on his face ever again.

His friends are off-limits, he made it pretty clear. Taemin was a mentor but one Jimin eventually did without. But Jungkook is his best friend, his brother. They’ve looked out for each other for more than half of their lives; you can’t even imagine what would happen if you and Jungkook get together and then fight, or break up.

You wouldn’t want Jimin to have to give up a friendship that means more to him than anything. Or more accurately, you wouldn’t want to lose Jimin over something that might not mean as much anyway.

You stick to the latter thought, especially when both men arrive home and Jimin is beaming, his smile something you’d never admit actually makes your heart feel all sorts of fuzziness and pride. He’s so excited and you feel it, too, moreso because he informs you that he got the job.

“They really liked me! They said I can really mentor the group and their team is so creative and passionate…” Jimin goes on, narrating every single thing that happened right as he entered the studio. You’ve never seen him this elated, not even with his previous company that was at the top of their game.

“And they said I don’t have to work right away! They’ll wait for my doctor’s clearance but I can go to work to observe and get to know them more.”

Your eyes moisten because not long ago, you saw the joy in your brother wither away, his passion deteriorate, and his plans go on a standstill. But now, it’s like he didn’t go through a slump or moments of weakness, like he didn’t go through a depressive mode when he thought he’d lost everything. He’s really a fighter, and you truly look up to him.

“I wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for you two,” Jimin continues, pulling both of you in a three-way hug because of course your brother wouldn’t hug just you.

This prompts Jungkook to wrap his arm around you, hand gripping your waist while yours settles for mere pats on his lower back. He tries not to dwell on this minimal contact, or on the way you purposely avoid his gaze. He tries not to think too much when you actively lean towards your brother more during your dinner out, or how you jerk away when any of Jungkook’s body parts comes in close contact with yours.

He’s thinking maybe you’re not in the mood for his playful antics or maybe, he really pushed too far with the kiss from earlier, and it sends him in an internal panic mode because just as his hope of starting something more with you was blooming, it quickly gets shot down just like that.

It’s when you pass up on games and drinks in your living room when you get back so you could just stay in your room did Jungkook think that he may really have blown his chance.

You try to be subtle in your avoidance of Jungkook but it’s harder than expected, especially since Jimin still invites him over. With the excitement of the new job now steadying, Jimin announces his checklist for getting through a crisis - healed foot, check; new job, check. That’s pretty much it, really. “But I still need you two,” he says.

Jungkook comes over and at the start, you notice how he still tries. He attempts to catch your gaze, goes near you, engages you in conversation, makes jokes, lingers before leaving… only to be met with eyes that don’t seek him, short answers, forced laughter, and cold goodbyes. And you absolutely hate it.

He’s around yet you miss him even more than when he was away, but you can’t fall into the things that made you feel something for him in the first place.

Living with Jimin made you appreciate him so much more, and you’re glad you get to be this close with him for the first time, and you don’t want to jeopardize that.

Jungkook had much to do with the newfound attachment with your brother, yet it’s exactly why you’re hesitant to give Jungkook a chance. Their relationship is sacred, similar to how yours with Jimin is. What you and Jungkook have is a by-product of those, and it’s not the priority. Somehow you think all three can’t coexist; you can’t have it all, really.

Whenever Jungkook makes an effort, Jimin’s plea to keep off his friends rings in your head. You know, too, that Jimin gave his friends an ultimatum - date my sister or keep your dicks, something like that. It was funny when you heard of it, but it’s definitely not a laughing matter now.

Those words were said years ago yet they still hang above your head. You wish Jungkook would just make it easier for you, but why is it that when he stopped trying did you feel your heart break, as if you’re losing something you never had in the first place?

It’s easy to reason you feel sick and tired; you’ve been spending later hours at work so spending more time in your room and asking the boys to make dinner instead seem reasonable. But tonight, Jimin isn’t having it.

“We’re celebrating, stay here,” he says, pulling you to the couch next to him. Jungkook is on his right, his once tendency to stiffen around you back again, and you sadden at the thought because he looks so uncomfortable.

“Celebrating what?” You ask, grabbing the beer being handed to you.

“I’ve been working for 2 weeks and I haven’t reinjured my foot,” he says, his smile blinding you.

Normally you’d roll your eyes at his shallowness but you just agree and mindlessly sip the beer, eyes veering off in the distance.

“Is it a guy?” Jimin asks out of nowhere and you try not to choke. “You only ever get this sulky when it’s about a guy. Is it someone from work?” Jimin states with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh! Is it one of the managers who’s been trying to ask you out but he’s the ex of your close friend?”

You try to remember when you told him that but it was definitely a months-ago issue.

“Or did you have an epiphany and realized you actually like Yoongi? Or Hoseok? Or maybe Jin but he’s married?”

“What the hell, Jimin!” You say, smacking his arm. Your eyes flit to Jungkook who’s focused on the TV.

“The first one,” you lie to satisfy your brother.

“It’s kind of a code, you know? He’s Yuri’s ex and she really loved him and I don’t want to ruin my friendship over something I’m not sure is worth it anyway.” And with that, you see Jungkook’s jaw clench. He knows about Yuri and the manager; they were merely a fling, so he knows you’re lying.

“How do you know it’s not worth it if you haven’t even tried?” Jimin asks, incredulous.

“I don’t know, it’s just… Yuri’s my friend and I don’t wanna mess up a friendship.”

“Seems like you don’t trust your friendship with Yuri enough, then,” Jimin states like it’s a fact. This hits your more than it should. Do you really not trust in your relationship with your own brother? Surely you have a basis to be hesitant, but if it only it were that simple.

Jimin picks up on your silence and asks again. “How are you and the guy like? Do you have moments with him?”

“Lots of them,” you say, your eyes finding Jungkook just on the other side of the couch and he’s never felt farther away.

“And for the first time it’s like I get to savor them. Whether it’s something sweet that he does, or if we’re just together in silence, or when he’s being flirty,” and you don’t see it but Jungkook catches you smiling at the thought and god does he wish you’re lying about this one unless it’s about him. He wishes it is.

“Sounds like a keeper if he gets you to enjoy moments, don’t you think? For someone like you?” Jimin says, cocking an eyebrow.

“Like me?”

“You think too much, you know? You plan, you analyze, you manage risks… I mean, yeah sure they help I guess but this isn’t a job, ___. There’s no profit to be earned here, no losses,” he points out.

“The only loss is you missing out on something good because you’re too focused on what could happen, and not what’s actually happening, right now.” He's told you a variation of this before, but somehow this hits differently, and more than it should.

“Did you teach that to Jungkook, too?” You ask, a smile creeping up and you digress because you need anything to stop you from walking to Jungkook and holding him close to you.

“No, he taught me that,” Jimin states. “I know it seems like I teach him a lot - well, all I really told him was to never let anybody dictate what he wants and deserves in life, and I stand by that, but to be clear,” Jimin turns to you, “I learn just as much from him. He’s his own self; nobody tells him what to do.”

It’s all meant to be assuring, comforting even, if only Jimin knew. And if only it were that simple. The tension is suffocating but your brother breathes easy. You love him more than you can ever say and his happiness has meant more to you than you ever imagined. You just wish your own didn’t come at a cost.

A few days later, Jungkook is back at your place and you had quite the reflective week and opted to stay in your room.

Some days you just want to bask in your own thoughts; absorbing yourself in your own emotions helps in figuring out what to do, you’ve realized. You’re still a thinker and a planner - that’s probably never gonna change - but you’re starting to at least let yourself feel and enjoy the now, or something like it. You just wish the person you want to spend your now with hasn’t changed his mind.

It’s almost midnight when you decide to head out, your early dinner long digested and you feel hunger creeping in.

You exit your room and stop in your tracks at the sight of Jungkook in your kitchen, all alone. You definitely weren’t ready for this.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were still here,” and you regret it immediately, not wanting to sound disappointed.

He looks up, alarmed at your presence because he wasn’t expecting this, too.

“Jimin fell asleep on me but don’t worry, I was just about to leave,” he responds, eyes not meeting yours.

“He’s also gonna be coming over my place now since he’s able. Don’t want you to feel like a prisoner in your own home,” he says, motioning to your room where you’ve been hiding recently.

“Since you’re avoiding me and all,” he continues, and you don’t miss the hurt look on his face.

You mentally give yourself a pep talk because you definitely want him to still come around and you’re definitely being stupid.

“I… I wasn’t avoiding you,” you say, blocking his way by the couch as he’s about to reach for his jacket.

He stops in front of you, ensuring some distance. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, you were just not minding me and making sure you stayed as far away from me as possible.” He’s trying to sound bitter but you’re his weakness and he will always go soft on you because his tender eyes are definitely not a match to his bitter words.

“I just didn’t know what to do. You didn’t exactly say what you felt and—“

“I kissed you, ___,” he says, tone suppressing frustration.

“I told you I needed you, wanted you. And you kissed me back. The way you looked at me that day, the way you held me… it meant more, I could feel it. So I don’t know how you could just act like none of that happened, like it didn’t matter,” he continues.

“Jungkook… you’re my brother’s bestest friend. And he’s very protective of his friends, of you.”

And it’s ironic, Jungkook thinks, how Jimin is the reason why you two had met, got close; how Jimin’s what got you together but is also who’s keeping you apart.

“He’s also the one who constantly reminds me to go for what I want, to never let anybody tell me what to do,” Jungkook says.

“Yeah but this is different. I don’t want anything to come in between you two, the same way I don’t want anything to come in between him and me.”

“So it’s okay for him to come in between us? You really think he’d be okay with that? That he’d keep the two people he loves the most from being together? From being happy?”

And you hate that he’s right.

“What Jimin is to us is out of our control,” he states. “But that shouldn’t be why we can’t try, right? Because god I’ve wanted you since I was 15 and and I’ve waited too long for this and I’d either fight for us or keep us a secret, I don’t care. Just don’t lie to me, please.”

By now he’s standing in front of you and he could pin you against the armrest if he wanted to but he’s keeping his hands to himself, fists clenched at the control he’s trying to maintain because of his intense feelings for you. He’d make you feel it all too, if you just let him.

You can move away if you wanted; there’s space for it. But you don’t. Jungkook bared everything to you, braving through just to be with you; the least you could do is be honest. So with your own strength, you look up at him.

“You made me fall for the moments, Jungkook. You made me fall for you, and there were so many things to consider and I—“

Your rear hits the armrest, as you’d reflexively walked back as he started to move towards you, slowly eliminating the distance. His arms, sandwiching you, are propped on the couch to support his spread out frame, his face now level with yours. You’re burning with how he’s looking at you with so much hope and yearning.

“Go on,” he says, voice low, his eyes wandering all over your face and you feel your heat dampen with just his gaze.

“I didn’t know what to do with what I’d started to feel for you because you were off-limits but that didn’t keep me from wanting you and—“

His lips graze the side of your neck and with your breath hitching, he proceeds. Open-mouth kisses trail your neck, with just enough wetness and just enough heat to leave you wanting more. You angle your neck for more access and he smirks at this.

“And what?” He urges you, mouth focusing on the other side of your neck now, head nudging yours to adjust.

“And I avoided you because—“

You grip the couch for support, as you unravel with his hot breath on your skin.

“That seemed easier than to keep at what we were doing knowing that—“

He licks a sensitive part by your ear and your strangled moan spurs him on.

“I couldn’t have you the way I wanted to.”

At this, he stops.

He focuses his gaze on you again. Jungkook holds onto the tiniest shred of self-control he has left just so he can savor you like this, emotions unraveling and your body falling apart before him.

“How exactly do you want me?”

You steady your breath and as much as you want to give in to your carnal desire and attack his lips, you want him to know how much this means to you. You’re still scared but being with Jungkook steadies you, makes it all feel worth it.

You’re crossing this line now, and you’ll stick with him whether you’ll both come clean or keep it a secret. He wants you enough right now; you’ll figure out what to do eventually.

Your hand finds his face and fingers trace the scar on his cheek. You let yourself drown in his beautiful eyes, knowing on clear nights you could see galaxies like this.

“I want you close, Jungkook. I want you to hold me, when I’m sad, happy, confused. I want to hold you that way, too. I want to savor every moment, let you know everyday what you mean to me.”

Your featherlight touches on his jaw send shivers all over his body and he hums at the sensation. You caress his lips before he could bite them again, palming him with your thumb and feeling its softness.

“I want you to fall apart under my touch, want to make you feel good, kiss you like it’s always the last time.”

Jungkook thinks he deserves a prize for how well he’s keeping himself together and not yet taking you on this couch like his dick is telling him to. But he needed to hear all that, needed to look in your eyes while you said them.

Then you smile at him, eyes filled with desire, and that’s all it takes for him to lose his resolve and plunge into you, your plush lips against his soft ones, melding together again like a literal dream. He straightens his stance so his hands can cup your face and he feels you smile in the kiss, relishing in the care and attention he’s giving.

It starts tenderly then quickly turns heated, his eager hands trailing down your arms and waist, and your own entangling his hair, pulling the strands as he nips your lips, prompting them to open.

Your tongues explore each other’s mouths, his lingering taste of rootbeer somehow making him more addictive. You swallow each other’s sounds, both of you still having half a mind to tone down, knowing that only a wall separates your wanton moans and your sleeping brother.

His grip around you tightens and you pull him closer, your hands now around his neck, fingers thumbing his cheeks and you’re losing yourself to him, as the past few months of undeniable attraction and sexual tension climaxing at this moment where you finally give in to what you’ve been trying to suppress.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels a sense of calm even with his hard dick and his thumping heart because he’s dreamed of this, dreamed of you, and you’re here wanting him, too. All the memories of watching you from afar, blushing at how beautiful you are, missing you when you were away, heart breaking at how happy you were with someone else, fly by him like a movie because he’s got his ending - you.

He’s lived for moments most of his life and always knew to savor them, to bask in them because he doesn’t know when he’ll get to have those again. But nothing comes close to right now with you and he decides to make sure he’ll have you like this everyday.

Both your actions continue, hands stationary but mouths eagerly moving against each other, stopping momentarily for air but smiling, laughing in the kiss.

You give in first, fingers slowly trailing down to graze at his chest and he shivers, curses mid-kiss and you giggle, and he’s on cloud 9 again, realizing he can hear the beautiful sound that is your laughter everyday.

Suddenly it’s all thoughts of what’s ahead for both of you, imagining what that would be like - feeling, holding, touching each other. You’re both so lost in your little world, minds traveling from now to tomorrow and it’s exciting, so incredibly alluring to be savoring this moment but also thinking about the next.

You’re light-headed now because kissing him is like a drug, soothing yet exhilarating at the same time and you’re aching to feel him. “Jungkook…” You whine.

And then.

“HOLY SHIT,” you hear a gasp.

Your eyes burst open and you feel Jungkook stiffen before you try to push him away. You both stull, looking at each other, some distance now between you, and you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it is, the tension so thick that you’re afraid to move.

You knew at one point you’re gonna have to tell Jimin but not now and definitely not in the middle of a fucking make-out session.

“Is this a hookup or are you both finally out of your asses and would actually like to properly date because god knows it’s about time?”

You and Jungkook slowly turn to the side, eyes wide at your brother who’s leaning by the wall, checking his nails as if he didn’t just give you a heart attack.

“WHAT?” You ask.

“Jungkook’s been into you since forever but never had the fucking guts to do anything.” Jimin sighs and rolls his eyes at the man. “You’re not exactly subtle with your staring.”

Jungkook can’t seem to wrap his head around what's happening because his mouth keeps moving but no sound comes out.

“Neither are you,” Jimin eyes you this time. “You forget I’m good with reading people. And also, I’m friends with Yuri. She doesn’t even remember that guy,” he laughs because of course they’re friends. You feel so stupid; you should’ve known he was trying to catch you in a lie when he asked if your sulking was because of a “guy.”

“So you’ve always known?” Jungkook finally finds his voice.

“About you, duh. She’s recent,” Jimin points to you. “It’s like, one moment you’re friendly then you’re flirty then it’s like you can’t stand each other. Get your shit together, people. I’m literally right here.”

God, you and Jungkook were definitely not subtle. And underestimated your brother, too.

“So you’re not mad?” You confirm.

“No.”

“But… you said you were gonna cut my dick off,” Jungkook stammers.

“And you told me to keep off your friends because of Taemin,” you add. “You stopped being friends because of me,” you remind him, voice almost a whisper.

Jimin takes a deep breath because now he has to come clean.

“We stopped being friends because of him. He hurt you, ___, and you didn’t deserve that,” he admits, avoiding your questioning gaze. “I heard you crying to Jin about what happened and I got angry and wanted you to stay away from my friends because they were all assholes.” He continues, jaw clenched at the memory. “Well, except for him,” he cocks his head towards Jungkook.

“He was the only good guy. I never really minded if he went for you because... iknowhe’lltreatyouwellandyoudeservethat,” Jimin says.

And you’re not gonna lie, you feel like crying. Jimin’s been trying to protect you all this time.

Jungkook, on the other hand, isn’t taking this all too well.

“You said you were gonna cut my dick off…” He says again, tone low and unbelieving.

“That didn’t stop you, did it?” Jimin counters, earning him a sigh of defeat because he has a point.

“I just wanted it to happen naturally,” he explains. “I mean, I didn’t plan on getting heartbroken, injured, unemployed, then homeless all at once but it happened and you both helped me and that unintentionally brought you together and I…”

He turns to you both. “I realized how good you are together. Not just in taking care of me but in taking care of each other, too.”

By this time, Jungkook has found his feet and is back to standing in front of you, his hand intertwining with yours. You let out a laugh because this whole time, Jimin wasn’t in the dark. But then again, he’s a smart ass too and would’ve figured it out.

And would also push it. “I actually got over Taehyung months ago so like, I’ve been okay for a while,” he shrugs.

And just like that, he gets on your nerves again because that’s how he’s been getting his way, by reminding you of his “broken heart that’s still hurting.”

“You little bitch! Do you also have a new apartment now and you’re not telling me?!” You shriek, and Jungkook next to you is finally laughing.

“Oh no,” Jimin responds. “I’m really still homeless.”

And he smiles his sickly sweet smile and you can’t help but mirror it. Your brother is really something, and you don’t know what you’d do without him.

Some seconds pass and you’re just all basking in this moment because for the first time in months, it really feels like things are looking out for all of you.

“So in that case,” Jungkook turns to you. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” Hopeful eyes staring at you, a weight off his shoulder now that he doesn’t need to hide anything from his best friend. He can just focus on falling in love with you and making you do the same.

“Yes,” you excitedly reply, hand trailing down his chest again. “And in that case, would you like to continue this in my bedroom?”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch. “Fuck, yes.”

“Guess I’m gonna have to sleep on the couch now,” Jimin groans, but you don’t miss his playful tone. “You’re both welcome, idiots.”

You’re pushed to the wall right as the door closes and Jungkook’s lips meet yours immediately. It tastes much sweeter knowing there’s no need to hide, to be careful. It’s liberating and it’s making you feel more.

He kisses you harshly as his hands make quick work of your shirt, pulling them off then slowly kneeling down in tandem with his mouth sucking, licking, and kissing down to your breasts, then your torso, causing your chest to heave at the pleasure from just his mouth.

His hands aggressively pull down your bottoms and his tongue finds your clit before you can even process his action. He’s nibbling your bud and laving at your lips and pumping his fingers in you all at once, you don’t know where to focus.

You feel the desperation and intensity with every move, the sensation overwhelming and eliciting lewd sounds from you. He alternates between moaning and cursing on your cunt and that just adds to the pleasure.

“Eager, aren’t we?” You ask with a smirk.

“You have no idea,” he responds, head buried between your thighs, one of which is currently resting on his shoulder. “Some of my wet dreams may have been because of you.”

“What the fuck Jungkook!”

“I was a growing boy with raging teen hormones!” He says in between breaths. But he doesn’t relent. Fingers curling in your hole, tongue swirling on your clit, and hand squeezing your ass, he’s determined to make you cum now, and with a hard suck, you do.

You jerk away at the oversensitivity with his mouth still on you and you pull him up to give him a kiss, tasting yourself on him.

At the sight of you bare, eyes half-lidded and steadying breath, he stills.

“Is everything okay?” You ask.

“Yeah I just…” He starts, stepping back a bit, and his eyes roam your body, smile creeping up his face. “I never thought I’d get to have you like this. I always admired you from afar and you always felt so out of reach and I…”

“Jungkook,” you stop him.

“I’m here with you right now, barely any distance. I’m not your best friend’s sister, okay?” Your hand reaches out to him and he takes it, let’s you pull him closer. “I’m the girl you like whom you’ll take out on a date after you fuck her senseless. Got it?”

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, a shy laugh escaping him.

You kiss him softly. “No need to admire me from a distance anymore. You have me, right here.”

“Okay.”

And before he can attack you again, you lead him towards your bed. Your fingers pull the waistband of his sweats as you sit on the edge and look up at him, wide eyes eager for something.

“Shirt off,” you say, and he follows.

Your eyes meet your hands that are slowly ridding him of his remaining clothing and you swear you could come again at the sight of the tiger lily tattoo resting on his hip. It curves with his semi-defined v-line, the stem trailing downward, like some pathway to his throbbing dick that’s leaking with some pre-cum.

You take him in your hands and he bucks at the feel of your soft skin around his length that’s aching to be inside you. Your eyes stay on the tattoo; something about it is so hot and you kiss it, lips then exploring the expanse of his hip and up to the part of his torso that you can reach, feeling the ridges of his definitely smooth abs, now tensing at the sensation.

All the while, your hand is stroking his member, up and down as you continue kissing and licking his pelvis and just like this, he already tastes so good. He grunts with your ministrations, head falling back at the intense pleasure. His hands fall to your hair as you take him in, tongue traversing his dick and your heat clenches at the salty taste of cum and the feel of his veins as his shaft twitches in your mouth.

At the vibration caused by your moan, he stops you, removes himself from you and then lays half your body down on the edge of the bed.

“My turn,” he says smugly.

You’re about to protest but he swirls his tongue all over your cunt again, the pad of his thumb flicking your nub and you moan his name instead. You haven’t fully recovered from your first orgasm yet but he seems determined to give you another one. He’s eating you like a man starved, as if he plans to slurp you dry.

“More, Jungkook,” you breathe out, then he’s pumping his dick and thrusting into you, the stretch just a tad bit painful but so, so good.

He quickly adjusts, spreads your legs open for his easy access and the view, and he growls at the supple flesh that's taking him so well. It’s so erotic, watching himself go in and out of you like this, then hearing your deliciously hypnotic moans louden as his hands start kneading your breasts like it’s some dough he’s molding to his liking, his fingers flicking the hardened nipples.

“You feel so fucking heavenly, ___,” he pants. “Fuck, fuck. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“All yours, Kook,” you respond, delirious now because his movements are really sending you to another dimension. “Fuck me harder,” you beg, and he follows.

He adjusts again, flushing your legs against you and the angle in which his dick hits your sweet spot causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

You’re screaming expletives and it’s just urging him to go harder, deeper, faster, his sweat trickling down his temples and forming on his chest.

“Cum for me, baby. I need to feel you,” he huffs.

He’s in a frenzied state and he’s losing himself in you, his mouth now parted and he joins your filthy wails, which are in tune with the sound of skin slapping on skin.

You feel your body spasm and you call out his name before you give in, heart stopping for a moment and he feels the stream of your cum coat his dick that’s just savoring this a bit more.

But you clench and it’s all it takes, his own seed spurting in you and your back arches as he comes down from his high by languidly kissing your breasts, one hand around your lifted waist and the other, intertwining your hand.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So much better than I imagined,” he utters, sounding so winded at the intensity of his orgasm.

He’s too tired to even move, body now resting on top of you, chest heaving and bated breaths escaping him. You massage his head and he moans even at that and you laugh but soften at the intimacy of it all.

He finally gets himself off you and you chuckle as he sneakily opens the door and tiptoes to the bathroom, careful not to be caught naked by your brother. He returns with a wet towel, wipes you, then lays next to you, his arm secured around your waist.

He’s smiling so fondly, lips now peppering kisses all over your face. “You’re stuck with me,” he states.

“Nowhere I'd rather be,” you reply, your own soft kiss now turning greedy again, and you think it’s gonna be a long night.

You wake up tired but you’re not complaining. It was quite the evening, after all, and you’re reminded by the fluff of grey hair adorning your chest. Jungkook likes to cuddle, you’ve learned, and he couldn’t sleep without a part of his body touching you.

You release from his hold and head to the kitchen after washing up, not expecting your brother to already be eating his cereal.

“Oh my god, can you wear shorts?” He huffs.

“Bitch, you’re in my apartment,” you bite back, laughing at the face he makes.

Your front is to the counter when Jungkook approaches and unlike before, heads to you, arms wrapped around your waist from behind and places a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning.”

His voice is hoarse and you hold back a moan because it just brings you back to last night when after you came the second time, he fucked you softly for your third, then fucked you hard for your fourth, then softly again this morning for your (extended) fifth. God, this man will be the death of you.

He nuzzles your neck and you giggle.

“Manners, you two. You’re like teenagers,” Jimin scowls.

“Well, I am living my teenage dream,” Jungkook announces.

Jimin grimaces but softens at the look of his two favorite people looking so happy. “Okay, this is gonna take some getting used to.”

You and Jungkook playfully nod in agreement.

“Also,” he turns to Jungkook who’s now managed to tear away from you. “Are you gonna be here again tonight because you know, I kinda wanna sleep on a bed and all. Couch is great but like, no.”

“You better find your own place soon if you don’t want to keep sleeping there every night,” you reply smugly.

“Okay, now gross!” Jimin, dramatic as always, pretend-gags at the implication. “I’m gonna look for places. Jungkook, you’re still my best friend. We’re going apartment hunting tomorrow.”

“But…” You start.

“No. Nuh-uh. You had him last night and you’re going out on a date today. You need to share my best friend.”

And you all laugh at him throwing a tantrum. He and Jungkook start to bicker and you walk towards your room to grab shorts because it really is awkward when your brother is there.

The doorbell rings as you’re about to walk back and you open the door, a surprised look on your face.

“Hi, is Jimin there?” The person asks.

You head back to the kitchen, your guest in tow and you call out to your brother.

“Chim, someone’s looking for you.”

Jimin looks up and almost falls off the chair.

“Taehyung?” He says, trying to mask the nervous tone of his voice. “I…”

“I have something to confess,” Taehyung cuts him off, eyes nervous but hopeful. “Can we, uhm, maybe talk somewhere else?”

Jimin nods and quickly follows him out.

You walk back to Jungkook and he tugs you close, hands back to your waist. “What’s that about?”

You bite back an excited squeal as you think back to what Taehyung told you at the door.

“Let’s just say, you might not need to help Jimin look for an apartment anymore,” you respond.

Jungkook smiles and pulls you in for a hug, reveling in this absolutely perfect moment.

“You Park siblings drive me crazy, you know that? And you two make me so damn happy.”

masterlist

#jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #brother's best friend #hold me close #oneshot #mine

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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years

Text

𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘃𝗲

𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || Steve’s life takes a quantum leap when he finds you unconscious on the beach.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || ANGST (with a happy ending)

This is the second part of six feet under.

I know I broke your hearts, so here comes the second part to mend it! I hope you love this!

“You are my mission.”

Steve felt as if the walls of his heart were pricked by a thousand needles. It ached too much for him to bear. Unable to look in your eyes, he cried in his own palms.

The Asset wasn’t built to show emotions, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at the picture in front of you; your mission had just dropped down on his knees and was pathetically sobbing.

Why wasn’t your target fighting. You were informed that he was great at hand combat but not really outstanding with guns. So why wasn’t he attacking you as expected. Why was he showing you his back in surrender?

You were told what to do if the mission fought. But you weren’t informed what to do if he just... surrendered.

Walking close to your mission where he was crouching down, you stared at him for a moment. You weren’t wearing your combat gear, and neither was he. You both were instead dressed in far from modest clothes.

You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to harm him in any way. With the way he was trusting you, you could’ve killed him within seconds. But yet your heart somehow ached at his situation.

When he didn’t even look up, you nudged his thigh with your left foot. When your mission finally looked up, his eyes were bloodshot and he was incessantly crying.

“Fight me.” You said as he just stared at you. Your blank gaze terrified Steve more than any alien or villain ever had. You didn’t know why, but you wanted him to fight you. You weren’t able to attack him if he just gave up.

Steve blinked his eyes as he took in your words. Why weren’t you killing him? He had surrendered to you and yet you were just looking back at him instead of fighting. Why did you want him to fight you?

“No.” Steve had never thought love would be his weakness. Or maybe he had never truly realised it. Steve loved Bucky as a friend and had rained hell when his friend was in danger.

And here he had signed off his soul in your name. He would literally bring you the moon and stars if you asked to. And he would bare his throat for you to slash through. But he couldn’t possibly ever hurt you.

“I said fight me.” Steve Rogers, your mission was supposed to fight you. Not just sit down and take whatever you gave him. You didn’t know why you were angry at his lack of self preservation.

What happened next was within the blink of an eye. Steve’s arm shot up and curled around your wrist. And with a quick pull, he pulled your entire body down.

His agility took you by shock and before you could react, you were down on the ground pressed against the floor with him straddling you. Taking both of your hands in his, he pinned them above your head, making sure you were immobile.

You were royally fucked. Your handlers wouldn’t take it lightly if you messed up. And that was if you reached them in one piece. Chances were you were gonna die here, right under Steve Rogers.

You opened your mouth to bite and hiss and Steve took the opportunity and dove right in. You stilled with surprise when you felt the captain’s plump lips right against yours. This man was super insane.

You mercilessly but his lower lip and ended up drawing blood. But as soon as he started licking in your mouth with his tongue, you melted right on the spot.

The warmth of his mouth slowly brought back the warmth of your memories. Steve felt you go pliant under him for some moments before you started fiercely kissing him back.

You entwined your fingers with his and gently pressed your tongue against the bite mark on his lips. You didn’t notice the tears that slipped through your eyes and how they mixed with Steve’s own tears falling against your face.

“Steve.” You called his name just like you always did. With love and belonging. He opened his eyes to see you staring right back at him with your lively eyes.

Steve had never been happier before. Pressing his forehead against yours, he just breathed you in for a moment. “Steve.” Your hand was now caressing his face.

Your eyes peering into each other were enough to convey the million thoughts you had and the thousand things you wanted to say. Pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, he got up and you followed him.

You both sat on the floor with your legs crossed, you kept some space between you two. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Steve repeated as he broke down once again.

You hushed him and held him in your arms until he calmed down. “I shouldn’t have done that, but… but I wanted to know.” Steve couldn’t ever forget how your face had morphed into that of betrayal as he recited the words.

“But I want to know one thing. Do you love me? Or… or is it some tactic of hydra to ruin me?” You wanted to slap Steve for asking this stupid ass question. Of course you loved him!

But then you realised where he was emotionally. If you were in his position then maybe even you would fear the same. “It’s real Steve. It’s definitely real.”

You framed his face with your hands and caressed your thumb over his cheeks. “Steve, I love you. And by ‘I’, I mean Y/N and Soldat. My soul belongs to you, no matter it’s name.

How can you doubt our love when it was the only thing that brought me back?” It was true, you wouldn’t have remembered anything if Steve hadn’t kissed you.

You could see the colour fill in Steve’s face. He pulled you in a bear hug and held you tight. “I love you. I love you.” Steve chanted in your ear just like before.

Once you were both calm enough to think straight, you decided to go out on the beach. You sat in the sand with your head tilted on Steve’s shoulder as the sea breeze kissed your wet cheeks.

“I barely remember who I was before all this Steve. I can only remember glimpses of the shield and the avengers. I’m no more the Y/N you once saw.”

Steve was silent as he listened to each and every word of yours. He wanted to say so many things back, but he knew he had to listen to you first.

“But I remember how they took me Steve. It was probably my third official shield mission and we had all thought that base was not active. But when we broke in, the operatives were waiting just for us.

It was trap and we fell willingly into it. The others managed to escape, but… but I couldn’t. And they took me Steve. I… I waited for you people.

I still remember shivering in that cold cell all alone, praying for you to find me. But you never came. And with time I just kept forgetting until I couldn’t remember anymore.” Your voice cracked yet you kept going.

“Even after you retired, you still were hydra’s number one target. It’s almost personal now. It took them some time, but they finally traced you and they knew you were alone.

I was supposed to use a boat as long as I was out of visibility and then swim till the shore so that you wouldn’t notice me. But I miscalculated the current and the rocks on the shore.

After I abandoned my boat, I jumped into the water and got caught in the water currents. It was a terrifying experience, just spinning wildly underwater as the water took you.

But I was oddly at peace as I thought finally I would be free. But then I hit my head on the rocks and got washed up. And I woke up remembering absolutely nothing in your warm bed.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve couldn’t ever forgive himself for all that had happened to you. He was sure shield must have tried their best, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. I’m sure they must’ve tried.” You both sat quietly staring at the calm ocean which reflected the night sky.

“Do you still love me?” You asked with a dejected sigh. “I’ll always love you.” Steve replied pulling you closer. “Even after knowing who I am and what I was here for?”

“You could’ve easily completed your mission. I know you are capable enough of doing that. But, you did not. You couldn’t harm me even when I openly surrendered to you.

So yes, I still very much love you and I’ll stay by your side forever.” The last word pierced through your heart like a knife. You couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Steve, I… I have to go.” Steve looked at you quizzically. “Where?” You gulped audibly before meekly replying, “Hydra.” You could feel his body tense.

“You aren’t going back there, no matter what.” You wanted to believe Steve’s words, but you knew that couldn’t happen.

“I’ve tried to run away. So many times. But they always find me. They’ll find me this time too. And if they find me, they’ll find you too and I can’t let that happen.

I won’t be able to live if something happened to you. I’ll never forgive myself. And that’s why I need to go.” If this sacrifice was going to keep Steve safe, then so be it.

“Nothing will happen to me. And if they come, we will fight them. Together. And nothing and no one can stop us if we are with each other. Stay with me, please!”

You kissed his cheek to stop him from pleading anymore. You couldn’t tolerate the man you loved begging you. “I’ll… I’ll stay with you. I promise.”

Steve hugged you so tight, you wondered if you broke some bones. But being in the arms of the man who loved you, felt better than heaven itself. It was a different kind of a feeling, one that no words could ever describe.

“Steve, what do you think about Paris? I’ve always wanted to go there.” You asked as you both sat silently on the beach, basking in each other’s presence.

“I’ve always thought about visiting Louvre too. But I never really got the chance.” Even as a sickly kid, Steve wanted to get mesmerised by the art in the famous museum.

“And what about Sydney? Or Amsterdam? Or Barcelona?” Your eyes lit up like an excited kid. “What about all of them?” Steve jested.

Steve wanted to travel the world too. In a sense he already had, but it was always for some mission and never for the sake of relaxation. “Yeah, we could do that!” You exclaimed as if the thought hadn’t occurred to you.

It would be a new beginning for both of you. A new life away from your tainted past. A fresh canvas to paint with the colours of your own choice. A much needed restart that both you and Steve needed.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s pack our bags!”

#did you like it?#marvel #steve rogers #mcu #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans x reader #steve rogers smut #chris evans smut #steve rogers one shot #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction

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mrsbrekkers · 3 years

Note

How bout a kaz brekker x blind!reader? 💓

okay so i have never written blind!reader before but but but BUTTT a good idea came to me involving reader being a grisha ( healer ) who had the gift to see someone and what they truly look like if they are physically allowed to be let in? it’s hard to explain, but y a

in this, reader and kaz have known one another for a good three in a half years, they work on heists together, and reader is usually partnered with kaz, as he wants to keep her safe. i S U C K at summaries. also, i was hella distracted while writing this, but it came out somewhat okay? f u c k.

pairings! kax x blind!reader

reader in this is female, but i will adjust accordingly if you’d like me too! just let me know! :)

warnings! really distracted writing, jordie, ptsd, blood, the typical soc stuff, kaz almost having a panic attack, but also him realizing he’s safe there with reader ye.

i could so make this a series? like going through all the times blind!reader has made kaz come to trust her more and more. haha ha unless...

word count! 2847

ONE SHOT UNDER CUT

GLOVED INTERACTIONS

There were many descriptions given to Y/N about what Kaz Brekker looked like. What color his eyes were. What color his hair was. What his build was like. She could give you an accurate description of Jesper, Inej, Nina, Matthias, even Wylan was easy. But when it came to someone she couldn’t physically map out? She became a bit lost.

Being born without her sight, Y/N had to learn other ways to understand the world. Especially in a place like Ketterdam. Maybe that was why Kaz was quick to take Y/N under his wing. To keep her safe, just as he had with Wylan. But, Y/N wasn’t useless. Being a Healer, she was valuable to the Dregs. Nina was a powerful heartrender, but could only do so much when someone was inevitably hurt during jobs. That’s where Y/N was useful.

In a sense she had her sight, but it relied on physically being able to touch someone. A side-effect of being a Grisha, with abilities that no one has seen before. Her sight may have been gone, but being able to see one in her mind, whether it be blurry or clear, gave her an idea on what one looked like.

That meant Kaz was the most mysterious person to Y/N.

Y/N could describe most of the crows relatively well. Jesper had been the first to let Y/N use her ‘gift’ as Nina called it, with him. Her hands rested on his arms, slowly moving up to his shoulders, the other crows sitting around them to watch.

“You’re Zemeni, but I knew that already. Inej described you as long limbed, she wasn’t wrong.” Inej laughed a bit, shaking her head. “Lean, no surprise, I could make that out. Your eyes are a dark grey, but beautiful. I must say Jesper, you’re rather handsome. Being a handsome decoy seems like it should be a Jesper talent.”

Jesper smiled, looking down at Y/N. “Right on, almost to the dot,” he said, giving his best friend a chuckle.

“Your smile lights up a room. But I also knew that already,” Y/N added, tilting her head as she let her hands drop from Jesper’s shoulders. The crows around them were in awe, and then Nina was moving Jesper out of the way.

“Move handsome decoy, my turn,” She said, humming a bit as she sat in front of Y/N, making the Healer laugh. As she had with Jesper, Y/N ran her hands up Nina’s arms, stopping at her shoulders.

“Hmm, long curly brown hair, your heart beats a bit differently than the rest of our friends. Courtesy of being Grisha, and a Heartrender. You’re also a bit curvier than our friends, but as am I.” Nina smiled, glancing at their friends, who all seemed confused on how Y/N managed to do this.

“Green eyes, piercing almost. As always, like the rest of our friends, your smile lights up the room. But instead of Jesper’s toothy smile, you’re a closed mouth smiler, unless talking to Matthias of course,” Y/N smirked a bit, feeling Nina’s body heat up told her that the Heartrender was indeed, blushing.

Then slowly, all of the crows sat in front of Y/N. Except for Kaz, which Y/N understood. She didn’t pry, but she did begin to wonder what he truly looked like. There were so many conflicting descriptions. Obviously the ones given from people who didn’t like him weren’t taken into account, because most of them consisted of calling Kaz ‘The Grinch’. And while this was probably a good term for his lovely personality, it didn’t seem like it’d match his looks. Kaz wasn’t green after all.

But after a particularly rough job, one that ended with almost everyone scuffed up in some way, shape, or form, Y/N was working herself to the bone. Inej had the worst of it, so Y/N worked on her first at the Slat, and upon finishing, she had Nina sit next to the sleeping Wraith. She stood, huffing as she climbed the stairs to Kaz’s room. He was always the least willing to be healed. He always claimed he was the least beat up, or he could handle it himself.

This time, Y/N knew he wasn’t the least beat up. She’d heard about the gash running up his arm, and the scratches lining his face, which were less than pretty. Entering the room, she crossed her arms.

“I’m fine,” Kaz spoke first, earning a scoff from Y/N.

“I’ve heard plenty from Jesper about how nasty the gash on your arm is, and how your leg has been worse than usual. I can’t heal a bone that’s healed incorrectly, but I can ease the pain,” Y/N stated, moving to stand in front of the desk. Why was Kaz so damned stubborn about things like this? It concerned the Healer. Did he find himself so unlovable that he believed he deserved the pain when he was hurt?

“How are you going to count your Kruge if your arm is cut wide open?” Y/N asked, tilting her head. That made Kaz sigh. She wasn’t wrong about that. It also meant problems during other aspects of his job.

“Fine,” Kaz said reluctantly. He watched Y/N round the table, his eyes mainly on her fingers that softly glided the desk, letting her know when to turn. He’d always found it fascinating how she managed so much without her sight. Mainly how she found her ways around. The way her fingers would move so smoothly across surfaces. Or how graceful she seemed. It was hard to fascinate Kaz Brekker, but she did it effortlessly.

“I won’t touch you, but I’m going to need to be guided to where the gash is,” Y/N spoke, now standing in front of Kaz, who gulped with a shaky nod. He trusted her. He trusted all of his Crows, but her the most. She’d been there when the Crows were down bad. She brought smiles to the team without fail. Kaz could remember the first time they’d met, when his fascianation had started.

The night had been cold, dark. As Ketterdam usually was. After a few months of Kaz having Inej watch over the Healer that lived near the university district, Inej had come to Kaz with news that the Healer, Y/N, had noticed her. It had rendered the Bastard of the Barrel speechless. Someone had noticed Inej Ghafa?

“How did she notice you? Nobody notices you. Even I didn't for the first time, and I notice everyone,” Kaz stated, his tone confused.

“I believe our Healer is blind. It would make sense then, all of her other senses would be on high alert, especially her hearing. Even the most silent aren’t silent to the blind. They notice everything, Kaz. I’m surprised she didn’t notice me earlier,” Inej said, her arms crossed as she leaned in the doorway between the bedroom and the small office.

Kaz stalled for a moment, humming in consideration. It would explain how Inej had been found out. What that didn’t answer was whether Y/N knew who they were. He doubted it, but you could never be sure in Ketterdam.

“Did she know who you were?”

“I’m not sure, I left before things escalated. She said she knew I was there and to reveal who I was and who I worked for. So she knows I’m not some random in Ketterdam. I’m sure she could figure out enough if I’d appeared before her,” Inej said before looking back at the window. She knew she wasn’t followed, she always checked for such. But with the revelation that someone, for once, had noticed her, it wasn’t unlikely that maybe she’d been followed.

Kaz huffed, realizing he’d have to now go and explain to this Healer about how he’d been watching over her for the past few months. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been doing so. Well, he did, she’d be a good asset to have later if he ever decided to actually let it be known that he’d been keeping her safe. It was time that’d present a new reason.

Arriving at the small apartment that the Healer lived in, Kaz knocked Inej behind him, and when the door opened, his dark eyes landed on Y/N.

“I was waiting for you guys to show up,” Y/N said, turning and allowing the two inside.

“You knew we’d come?” Inej asked, entering the small apartment and sitting where Y/N offered, taking the small cup of tea she was handed. For being stalked for the past few months, the Healer was being rather kind.

“I suspected it was The Wraith watching over me for some time. I have learned to feel different presence’ around me. Yours, while I didn’t notice it at first, I began to when one of my papers went missing and was replaced with a forged one,” Y/N said, sitting next to Inej.

“How did you know it was forged?” Kaz asked, raising an eyebrow. Not that Y/N could see that, but his tone, his voice did the accenting for him.

“Kaz Brekker I presume. The handwriting wasn’t my own. I don’t have terrible handwriting, I’ve practiced for years after all, but my handwriting is not that nice. And the paper wasn’t the kind of paper I used. It was a close second, yes, but the letters weren’t able to be felt. That’s when I realized it was forged. It was a good forgery, but I’ve lived in Ketterdam long enough.” That’s when Kaz’s fascination started.

Or maybe it was when Inej had announced someone had noticed her. Nonetheless, that was the day he decided to recruit Y/N officially. It wasn’t hard either, considering she was rather willing too as long as she wasn’t indentured to the Dregs.

“I won’t go with if I’m going to be paying you back for the rest of my life,” Y/N stated, sipping her tea. Oh, and she had to bring her cat. Jesper now called the cat the Crows mascot. Which, the other’s had found weird. It was a cat, not a Crow, but they had changed the name of the cat to Crow. Which made the rest of the gang agree on it. Even Kaz found the cat enjoyable.

That was three years ago.

Since then, Y/N hadn’t let Kaz down once. He’d grown to trust her as he did Inej, even more so as she became his shadow. The person in his corner, his partner. He trusted his shadow.

Sighing, Kaz shook his head, looking over at Y/N and glancing down to her hands. “Left arm, right above my elbow,” he said, watching her fingers flex before moving to hover over the gash that covered a good part of Kaz’s upper arm.

“You know, I still don’t know what you look like,” Y/N said as she healed to gash slowly, making sure the work was intricate and done correctly.

“Brooding, dark, nothing else really to me,” Kaz said, but Y/N shook her head, finishing the gash and humming a bit. She moved her hand slowly up to Kaz’s face, doing a quick brush over to heal the small gashes there. Kaz felt them heal, his labored breath steadying as she moved her hand away from his face.

“I don’t believe that. If there was nothing more to you, I wouldn’t be staying around, Kaz,” Y/N said, bending down, but she felt a gloved hand grip her wrist, surprising her and causing her to jump a bit.

“I can handle that pain, I have for years,” Kaz stated, watching Y/N nod, and while she couldn’t see his hand, her eyes were still on the wrist that was enclosed by Kaz’s gloved hand.

“I may have an idea. A way for me to know what you truly look like,” Y/N said, a smile rising to her lips.

Kaz was almost frightened to ask. No, he was frightened. He knew what that would entail. But he knew what she looked like and she had so many conflicting ideas about what he looked like. He also knew that Y/N wouldn’t cross his boundaries unless he gave explicit permission. He could say no to this and she’d agree and leave with a smile, some words of encouragement to sleep and rest, and later have Inej or Jesper bring up food for him. But sucking in a deep breath, he looked up at Y/N, determining that he trusted her enough for this. She’d never hurt you.

“Okay, tell me the idea,” Kaz said slowly, his words wavering.

“You can back out at any time, Kaz. If you don’t want to do this, you let me know immediately,” Y/N stated, and Kaz let out a small cough.

He closed his eyes, nodding to himself before giving an audible, “I know.”

“Your gloves, their the barrier that helps ensure you don’t come into contact with skin. What if I wear a pair, they don’t have to be yours, but a pair of gloves and use them to learn what you look like?”

Kaz tilted his head. It wasn’t a terrible idea. It actually made a lot of sense. He used the gloves as a barrier, as Y/N had said. If she did the same, it would be the same as he had just done with her wrist. He wouldn’t feel Jordie. He wouldn’t feel Reaper’s Barge. At least, that’s what he hoped for. But he’d be willing to try for Y/N. He’d try for her.

“We . . . can try that, but use my gloves. I’m used to the feeling of them. I have another pair in the nightstand by my bed,” Kaz said, watching Y/N smile a bit before moving to grab the gloves in the nightstand. He watched her slide them onto her fingers, seeing they were just a bit big on her, he chuckled quietly.

Y/N let her fingers glide against the desk once more, pulling the chair from the other side of the desk right in front of Kaz. She could hear his uneven breathing as she sat too. “You guide me, just like before,” Y/N said, letting Kaz have control of the situation.

Slowly, Kaz lifted his hand, taking Y/N’s gloved one into his own. Stalling for a moment he shut his eyes tightly, and for a moment the flashes came to him, but he sucked in a deep breath, opening his eyes and seeing Y/N in front of him, alive, breathing.

He lifted her hands to rest on his shoulders, watching her hum as the vision of him began to form within her mind. He watched a smile come to her lips. She would never know how beautiful that smile was. How beautiful it was to him. How he hoped it wasn’t washed away like his was because of the Barrel.

“Hmm, Dark hair, trimmed at the edges. Inej teased you for it one day, I remember that. You have a sharper face than most of our friends, and a lean build, but more muscular than Jesper is.” Y/N tilted her head, the image in her head finally fully forming.

“Dark eyes, like bitter coffee. Two tattoos. I didn’t know that. I must say, but don’t Jesper this, you’re far more handsome than he is. Maybe you should start being the handsome decoy.” Kaz chuckled at that, and for a few moments he wasn’t shaking. He wasn’t fearful. He wasn’t breathing heavily. He was happy, even if just for those few moments. Happy because of her.

Y/N dropped her hands, pulling off the leather gloves and placing them on the desk. “Certainly not the grinch as some put it,” she added, standing.

“Pretty close to that,” Kaz said, watching her stand.

“Maybe personality wise, but certainly not look wise.”

“Who calls me the Grinch?”

“Jesper,” Y/N laughed. She remembered hearing Jesper reference Kaz as the grinch at one point. It was where the nickname had probably originated from for others to call the Bastard of the Barrel, and slowly it became known. The room became quiet for some time, and Y/N was the first to break it.

“Thank you . . . for letting me do that, I know it wasn’t easy. The tattoos, what are they of?” Y/N asked then, tilting her head. Kaz took a deep breath in, looking over at the window across by his bed. The one he rarely ever used.

“The Dregs Crow, and an R,” he didn’t elaborate, leaving Y/N to know that was as much as he’d say. She knew what the Crow was for, but she had a feeling she shouldn’t ask much more than that.

“Well, do get some rest. I can’t heal sleep exhaustion, sadly,” Y/N said, laughing a bit. She didn’t see it, but a smile spread on Kaz’s lips.

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Disappearance

Characters: Diluc, Razor, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,133

Warnings: Slightly claustrophobic

Premise: The line between small upsets and huge quarrels can be a blurred one, and it’s often difficult to cope with in the aftermath.

In which there is an argument and the reader disappears.

Author’s Note: Thank you for your request anon. I really cannot stay away from angst, and this was right up my alley. Poor characters, how I love to torture you.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write Razor, he isn’t in my list of characters I’m comfortable with. For one thing I find his broken speech quite difficult to deal with. I can’t tell if I find it irritating or not, or if it’s an example of good characterization or the “savage” stereotype a la Tarzan – sorry Tarzan I don’t like you. But I tried to make the effort and I hope it came out well! Though I still don’t feel quite comfortable with writing him. I hope I handled the dialogue well enough. He makes me think of San from Princess Mononoke.

Diluc

Diluc accelerated his pace as the Winery came into sight, his normally serene face breaking into a small smile.

It was the best time of day, the time when he came home, the time when he could finally see you. The two of you had been a couple for about five months, and though it wasn’t the longest of time, it was certainly the happiest Diluc had been, happier even than when he was a child with a family to call his own. You were his family now after all, something that you reminded him when he was in his darkest moods. You were his family now, and nothing could tear that apart.

“Welcome home.” Your voice was warm with happiness, and you threw your arms around Diluc the moment he came through the door. Diluc reciprocated the embrace and for a moment the two of you simply stood in the landing, the picture of perfect happiness.

“I’ve missed you, beloved.” Diluc whispered.

“I missed you too.” You replied, smiling softly. Your smile slipped however, and was instead replaced with an expression of worry. “You were gone so late tonight, I was unsure if something had happened to you. Really, I was about to go after you.”

“Well I’m glad you didn’t.” Diluc replied, tone firm though not unkind. “We’ve talked about this before my love, if something were to happen to me, which it won’t,” he quickly added, seeing your gaze cloud over, “but if it did I wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger. I fight for you as much as anyone else in Monstadt, and for you to be injured or worse on my part, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“I know we discussed it and came to that conclusion.” Your words were slow, deliberate in tone. “But though I agreed to it then, I found tonight that I regretted it more than anything I might ever do. I cannot bear the idea of you somewhere near, hurt and crying out for help or worse…” you swallowed, unwilling to conjure the image to mind, “…I couldn’t bear thinking that you might be in a bad way and with no chance of rescue simply because I made a foolish promise. And while I was thinking about this all I came to the realization that I could never truly keep that promise. If you’re ever in need I will be there for you, no matter what. No matter what you said, what you think, it is the simple truth.”

“Please don’t do that.” Diluc replied, voice quickly becoming filled with emotion. “If there’s something out there that could hurt me like that, then how –” he paused, realizing his mistake, but you’d already caught it.

“How could I possibly defeat it?” You replied, a grimace replacing your smile. “You cannot treat me like glass Diluc. I’m an adventurer, a warrior in my own right. And I won’t be kept from saving the one I love the most, not when the only thing keeping me from it is his pride and a few words.”

The two of you said nothing more of it that night, but the argument hung in the air the next morning, continuing the awkwardness up until you left for your adventuring duties. Diluc did nothing to breach the gap. He was in the right after all. And besides, it was such a stupid little argument, barely one at that. In a day or two it’d be nothing, and then all would be well again.

This conclusion was sorely tested when you didn’t return to the Winery in the evening. As Diluc prepared himself for another night of patrol he began to worry slightly. Surely you weren’t avoiding him. About something so small? No, most likely you were simply late. You’d be there when he got home. If he was sure of anything he was sure of that.

Unfortunately Diluc was proven quite wrong. The doorway was empty at his arrival, you were nowhere to be found. A sinking feeling began to settle into his stomach, and Diluc found himself quite unable to sleep that night, instead tossing and turning this way and that, wondering if you were truly so angry over something that he’d seen as so small. It was the only logical explanation for your disappearance after all, though Diluc wasn’t sure what to do about it. Chasing after you seemed somewhat uncouth, and besides didn’t that always make things worse? No, he’d give you space, all the space you needed. If a week passed then he’d seek you out, but before then he’d let you be. No point in jeopardizing the relationship anymore than apparently he already had.

His promise to stay away for a week was nearly torn to shreds by the end of the next day. Were you truly so angry with him? How could he have hurt you so much? Diluc didn’t know what to do. During the day he tried to behave as always, keeping tabs on everything he could and busying himself as much as possible. At night, however, the feeling became more and more unbearable, and Diluc found sleep more fleeting than ever.

He kept replaying the argument, over and over again did he try to remember exactly what had happened. Was your tone of voice angrier than he thought? Was your expression darker? Had he been too curt, too dismissive, too demanding? What could’ve possibly caused you to simply disappear? It was unlike you; usually what arguments took place resulted in you trailing him more than anything else. Why was this so different? Turning onto his side once more Diluc closed his eyes. Tomorrow all would be well. Tomorrow you’d come back for sure.

You didn’t come back tomorrow, nor the day after that. Those days were some of the most anxious Diluc had felt since the immediate passing of his father. Work became unbearable, for words that one stood clearly on the page now swam before him, a sea of incomprehensible figures and symbols. Eating and sleeping too were utterly alien to him, and what those two days were mostly comprised of turned out to be him walking about in a stupor, too dazed and too worried to think about anything around him, anything other than you.

On the fourth day a knock came to his door, and with it came Katheryne of the Adventurer’s Guild. Her face was ashen, and she was fiddling with her hands. As Diluc gestured for her to sit down the anxiety that had been sitting in his stomach tangled itself into knots. What in the name of the Seven had happened?

“Master Diluc, we have some information, information involving your partner.”

“Yes?” Diluc’s voice was sharp and low, for he couldn’t bring himself to hide it. Collapsing into the opposite chair he tried to prepare himself for the worst, knowing that if you had left or, Seven forbid, been killed he’d never be able to move on.

“Well you see your partner, they went on an expedition, a commission rather. They were looking for bits of Noctilious Jade and Cor Lapis. Although these minerals are normally found in Liyue only there are a few reservoirs in Monstadt along the border of the two lands, specifically they can be found in certain caves behind the waterfalls that flood into the river. A merchant bought the rights to the land of one of those caves and, being a merchant, he couldn’t get it out himself, so we sent one of our own to mine it out for him, see if it was any good.”

“This is all quite fascinating,” Diluc replied, tone made sharp with worry, “but I can hardly see what this has to do with anything.”

“Your partner was the one selected. They went down to mine it but the entrance was the opening to a sharp drop and they fell down. We only managed to recover them this morning.”

The shock that ran through Diluc was something that he never wished to experience again. It seemed to pierce right through him, into the center of his heart. You’d been trapped. You’d been in need of help, stuck for days in the worst of possible situations, and he’d done nothing but loaf around the Winery. How could he forgive himself for something like that?

“May I see them.” He choked out, his throat constricted and burning.

“They are coming here right now. Thankfully injuries were minimal. Caves connected to water are the most dangerous kind, you can die and it can be impossible to retrieve your corpse. They were incredibly lucky.” And with that gruesome thought in mind Katheryne walked over to the door, opening it to reveal you.

Diluc had never moved so fast in his life. Instantly you were wrapped in his embrace. You returned the gesture just as fiercely, clinging on as if he was the only thing anchoring you, keeping you from collapsing from relief, from fatigue, from the terror that had yet to dissipate.

“Oh my love, oh I’m so sorry, so deeply sorry. Forgive me, forgive me for not being there. Forgive me.” Diluc whispered, practically incoherent. You were both shaking, and when you two collapsed in the chair closest to the fire there were no words for a good many moments. The terror you’d both felt was hardly over, and you both needed to be sure that this wasn’t a dream, that it was all over, and that you were going to be fine now.

“Diluc.” You finally whispered.

“Yes my love.” Diluc replied, a tremor still in his voice. You leaned into him, head perched on his shoulder, breath tickling his neck.

“I never want to quarrel again.”

Diluc reached over to cup your face. Raising your head slightly he leaned over, brushing his lips against yours, indulging in something he thought for a moment he might never be able to do again.

“Neither do I.” He replied, voice just as soft. “And remind me never to try to restrict you again, for if I’d not been such a fool I would’ve run to your side the very evening you were trapped.”

You smiled softly, expression conveying relief and tenderness and most of all love. Leaning in for another kiss you whispered something right before your mouth collided with his.

“I will follow you wherever you go.”

Razor

Sitting at the edge of one of Wolvedom’s many cliffs, eyes trailed towards the far away walls of Monstadt, Razor wondered if he might’ve been too harsh.

It wasn’t that Razor wanted to quarrel with you, I mean you were the first and only person that he’d managed to build a sincere connection with. It was only that he’d grown up with a complete distrust of humans, and as much as he tried to bury that aspect of himself it still came to the forefront at times.

“I don’t understand what you’re so angry about Razor?” You’d exclaimed, face twisting into an expression of annoyance.

“Why do you like them?” Razor had replied, gesturing towards the people who had arrived with you, trampling their way through the forest as if everything belonged to them simply because they were human. He could practical smell the arrogance wafting off them, and it made his hair stand on edge. It was frustrating that he didn’t have the words to convey that to you.

“My guild members?” You’d said, glancing over your shoulder. “Razor I work with them. We’re going on a trip.”

“I want them to leave.” He’d practically growled, moving to take your hand in his. “I want them to leave, I want you to stay.”

“Well you can’t do that Razor.” You’d said, tone growing more and more exasperated. “And I don’t understand why you’re so hostile to them.”

“They’re human.” To Razor this was enough, but evidently the answer was hardly satisfactory to you.

“I’m human.” You’d pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Razor shook his head.

“You’re different.”

“No, I’m not. You just like me. And like it or not I’m a human, and a human who has a job to do. I can’t stay here, and I can’t stop talking to all other humans.

“Why not?” He’d shot back. “It would be better. Humans are bad creatures.”

“You keep forgetting who I am!” You’d exclaimed, shaking your head. “Whatever, I’m not arguing this with you. I’ll see you in a day. I hope that you can think about my feelings by the time this is over.”

Well the day had come and gone and there was no sight of you. Razor was too angry though to feel much remorse, no matter how much he missed you. You were probably busy anyways, talking to other humans, fraternizing with the enemy. For what else could humans possibly be? They cut down trees, killed the inhabitants of the forests. Even the wolves weren’t safe, for what farmer hadn’t taken a shot at one of them at some point in his life? No, Razor was not the one in the wrong. You were just too used to them. You couldn’t see it.

Still your absence sat wrong with him, and he found himself scouring the edges of Wolvendom the next day, trying to figure out what had happened. It wasn’t as if you didn’t know what he thought after all. And surely you wouldn’t abandon him so quickly, surely.

Razor was hardly so sure when the sun went down the next night. It seemed you were well and truly gone, though where he couldn’t tell. Maybe you really had decided to abandon him, decided he was too much of a burden, decided you preferred humans anyways. The thought ate at him, and he found himself walking around with a bitter taste in his mouth, unsure what to do.

Razor wasn’t sure what finally caused him to cross out of Wolvendom to look for you. Perhaps it was anger, perhaps it was guilt, perhaps it was that he at least wanted to say goodbye. No matter the cause however he still found himself walking on an unfamiliar path, as the woods shifted to plains. He felt vulnerable, uncomfortable without his familiar family. But it was too late to turn back now, and so he pressed ahead.

All sense of discomfort faded away upon running into you. You looked the worse for wear, covered in dirt, your clothes ragged. For a moment Razor wondered what could’ve possibly caused this. Perhaps there was a creature out there he was not aware of. Running up to you he wrapped his arms around you.

“You’re hurt.” It was more of a question than a statement, and you seemed to understand that. Returning the hug you sighed slightly.

“I was stuck in one of the shallow caves off of the Stormbearer Mountains. The passage we went through started crumbling, and I was the last one in line. It took some time to dig me out.” You laughed slightly, but there was a tremor in your voice, and you seemed ill at ease. “It was so dark in there Razor, so utterly dark. I couldn’t imagine being a creature down there, it all seemed to weigh down on me, and I thought it’d collapse and bury me at any second.”

Razor had tightened his embrace, the image seared into his mind. There was a visceral fear in his reaction, the fear of what you’d just described, but it was more complicated than that. To be down there himself was terrifying, but for you to be in that situation, and for so long, it stole the air from his lungs and weighed him down with such a sense of dread he could barely stand it.

“Humans sent you down there?” The tone of his voice was seething, but your reply was much calmer than it had been before.

“Yes. They did. But they also saved me Razor, you must remember that.”

It was something he hadn’t considered, and as he pulled away to look you in the face he pondered the implications. What he’d said was true, yes, but what you’d said was also true. They could’ve quite easily left you if they wanted, could’ve left you for dead and said there was nothing to do about it. Certainly some humans would’ve done just that, but they didn’t. Instead they helped you, for days they had dug, and thanks to that you were safe.

“I was wrong.” He said, tone straight, for it was a fact. He was wrong, at least about your people he was wrong.

“There are many evil people out there.” You said, expression pensive. “There are those who kill and rob and lie and think only about themselves. There are those who cannot see the world around them. But you can’t judge all of humanity by that. There are also those who care for every aspect of the world they can, who burden themselves with all the misfortune they see, so much it might break them. Humans are complicated Razor. So yes you were wrong, but I cannot say you were completely so.”

Razor said nothing, absorbing what you’d said. It was hard not think in black and white, something necessary sometimes for survival. But ever since you’d entered his life he wanted to try to understand you, even a little bit. And, especially after today, he’d do anything to make that effort a reality.

For though he understood little of humans and their ways he knew of one thing for sure. And that was the love he carried for you.

Xiao

Looking back it was such a stupid argument. Of course all arguments seemed idiotic looking back after what happened. But if all arguments were stupid, then surely Xiao couldn’t’ve picked a stupider one to have.

“I wish you’d see me off at the bridge.” You remarked, strapping the last of your equipment into place. You were off to do another commission, something about recording a rare species of lizard and taking photographs of some rare luminous mosses, and once again the topic of goodbyes had come up.

“I’m saying goodbye now aren’t I?” Xiao tone was as brusque as ever, but this time you didn’t brush it off with your usual smile.

“I mean it Xiao.” You said instead, turning to look him straight in the face. “I know you don’t fraternize with people, I know that you consider it a result of the burdens you carry. I know that and I don’t ask you to go and set up shop in Liyue or some such thing. I do ask you though to simply be there when I leave the city. It would mean a lot to me to have you there when I step out into the wilderness, especially when I’m going to be gone for two days. Can’t you do this for me, at least this?” You searched his eyes, expression pleading, but Xiao simply scoffed and turned his head.

“Saying goodbye here should be enough. Besides, there aren’t any people here. Would you really want me to say goodbye surrounded by prying eyes?”

“No one is going to pry.” You pointed out, voice flat with annoyance. “And to answer your question, yes, yes I would like you to be there to say goodbye. I love you dearly Xiao, more than I have ever loved anyone, more than I ever will. But I cannot love you unequally. I don’t ask for much, but I am asking for this. Please say goodbye to me at the bridge.”

But Xiao merely scowled, shaking his head violently. Huffing you turned around, everything set and ready to go.

“Sometimes I don’t know why I put myself through this.” You muttered; stomping your feet ever so slightly, and slamming the door to the room behind you.

Xiao’s sense of time was usually quite poor. To adepti days were more like minutes, and even months seemed as abundant as grains of sand. One of the things that had most surprised him about starting a relationship with you was how his sense of time was affected by it. The days with you were mere moments, and the days where you were gone dragged on and on, minutes replaced by endless boredom.

This time was no different, instead the feeling was exacerbated. Although the first two days were a blur, made meaningless by Xiao’s irritation over your final conversation, the moment the third day dawned and you were nowhere to be found time ground to a halt, and Xiao no longer became sure of what day it was, sure that a month must’ve passed instead of a few hours. You must’ve been more irritated than he’d thought.

Still the adeptus was full of pride, pride and principles. If you were staying away over something so petty so be it. He’d not be the one going after you, not when he was utterly within his rights. Why should he changed so over the request of a human? No matter how much he loved you a part of him chafed at the idea, and thus he did nothing, instead sulking the days away under the concerned eyes of Verr Goldet.

If he was filled with pride though, there was also anxiety. Day three came and went, then day four, then day five. When day six arrived Xiao’s will seemed to give up, and he spent his hours in a restless sleep, something highly unusual for the adeptus labelled the “Vigilant Yaksha”. It was if you had taken all his strength away, and what remained was nothing but anxiety and his quickly shattering anger. Surely nothing was worth this feeling of being eaten away by poison. Surely.

Night had fallen, and the moon had taken her silent vigil over the land. Xiao knew that he should get up, knew he should go after you. But it was as if he was chained to the mattress. His head was filled with static and he felt as if he were burning up. A headache had come on the moment he’d opened his eyes, and now he found he could do nothing but lay with his thoughts, each becoming darker by the moment.

He recognized the weight of your footsteps as soon as they came into earshot. Bolting up, all fatigue leaving him, he slammed open the door, taking the stairs two at a time until he finally came face to face with you.

If he was expecting something, it certainly wasn’t this. Though there was a smile on your face it was marred by the bandage on your forehead, and by the long gash on your arm.

“What happened?” The words came out in a rasp. “Who did this to you?” The weight had come back, and Xiao swayed slightly, feeling altogether faint, the range of emotions he was experiencing becoming overwhelming.

You pressed your hand to his chest, the other moving to cup his cheek. “No one did this to me.” You said, voice slightly hoarse. “One of the caves I was in collapsed, and I fell and hit my head while running away from the entrance. Thankfully it was nothing serious, and it only took them three days to get me out.”

Three days. The situation seemed torturous. Xiao was a creature of air, the mere idea of being beneath the earth was claustrophobic to him. It was to humans too, that he knew, knew from what he’d heard from Rex Lapis. The idea of you trapped underground, injured and unable to escape, it shook him to his very core.

Taking your hand in his he kissed your palm, silently thanking Rex Lapis and all the other archons for letting you come home. The situation, what you’d gone through, it was all crashing down on him. You were the most precious thing in the world, the one he loved most, the only person he would truly love, in all his years on this earth it would forever be that way. How could he take you for granted? Take your needs for granted?

“I’ll never fight with you again.” He whispered.

“I don’t know about that.” You said, smiling slightly despite it all. “Fights are hardly unheard of after all.”

“I won’t. Not about something so stupid. Not when…” he trained off for a moment, eyes clouding over. “… Anyways I won’t do it.”

“Does that mean you’ll say farewell at the bridge?” You asked, tone hopeful.

“I will.” Xiao promised. “I’ll do anything for you. For you are that which I love the most.” And leaning over to kiss you Xiao made a silent vow that he’d never let you go through anything like that. Never again.

#I never know the right time to post these #diluc #razor #xiao #diluc x reader #razor x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #requested #scenarios #my writing

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irrelevantwriter · 3 years

Text

House Call

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, reader being scared and horny, Rio’s BDE (y'all know what's up)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Part 1. Rio shows up unannounced to talk business. Among other things.

A/N: It’s here...it’s happening. It took me a whole 2.5 seconds to become obsessed with Rio once I started watching GG. Ya’ll know how I roll. Anyway, this is me just dipping my toe into the water. I didn't get too deep with a plot (spoiler alert: there isn't any). It’s essentially just reader-insert into the show’s current plot, but with some smut thrown in. For fun. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Added a Part 2! Read it here.

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

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

“You okay?”

The sound of your friend’s concerned voice filled the line, pulling you back to the moment and the conversation you’d been engaged in before you’d burnt yourself in the spray of hot water.

“Yeah, just washing dishes.” You explained, cradling your cell between your shoulder and cheek as you maneuvered dirty dishes under the spout of water.

“So the meeting with the principal? How’d it go?” Rachel asked, getting you back on track.

You sighed, beginning to scrub at a stubborn coffee stain left behind on one of your favorite mugs.

“Fine. The kids are still having a hard time with the divorce so it’s…” You paused, unsure of how to describe the child-like brooding your son and daughter had taken to participating in since you’d separated from their father.

“Tense? Difficult? Weird?” Rachel listed off helpfully.

“All of the above.” You deadpanned, still scrubbing.

“You take the rest of the day off?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to do with these kids. Paul said he’d come over later to talk it over.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of him.” Rachel replied, sarcasm and disdain dripping from her words.

“Well, it’s a start. And as much as I’d like to tell him to fuck off, I can’t. He’s still their dad.” You explained for the hundredth time, feeling the stress of your situation with your ex starting to creep into your body. Your shoulders felt stiff and your head began to throb with a dull ache. It was a familiar reaction these days. One you loathed.

You opened your mouth to steer the conversation elsewhere when the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the empty expanse of your home.

“Paul?” Rachel asked, obviously hearing the alert of someone’s company over the phone.

“I guess. Look, I’ll call you later.” You said with another sigh, this one more tired than annoyed. You gave up on the stained mug and moved onto drying it, shutting the water off as you did.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You ended the call, aware that you were short with her, but unable to feel sorry for it. You had plenty of other things to worry about, none of which involved your shitty ex or his new girlfriend.

You placed your cell on the counter and turned to make your way to the entryway, mug still clutched in your hand. The ceramic cup dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces when you saw who was already in your kitchen. You gasped, clutching your chest and yelping at the familiar man in black, the dark ink splattered across his throat the first thing you noticed. Your heart leapt, your body going rigid at the unexpected visit. Pop-ups like this were never a good sign.

“I let myself in.” Rio supplied, voice low and thick with authority and charm. He wore a smirk, lips upturned at your surprised reaction. He always seemed amused by you. That fact only served to unsettle you further.

“What’re you doing here?” You managed to say between shaky breaths, fear making your own voice quiver.

“Just checking in, mama. Can’t I do that?” He challenged with his arms spread wide, daring you to say otherwise.

You didn’t.

You went to move around the large kitchen island but the shards of broken mug prevented you from getting far on bare feet. Rio took notice and strode towards you, all clean lines and hooded eyes. He had a swagger about him that radiated. It sent a clear message about the kind of man he was. Confident. Skilled. Smart. There was an ease in his movements, but a beast lay in wait inside, ready to strike when the need arose.

His piercing gaze took in your dress, uncaring of being discreet or polite. He appraised you from the tips of your painted toes to the top of your head. It was as unnerving as it was thrilling. He crowded your space. He always did. While the scent of him filled your nostrils. Something spicy, but pleasing. It sat in your nose, and you knew from previous experience that you’d smell it for hours after.

You swallowed, wanting to avoid his close proximity. You hastily bent down to gather what you could of the jagged pieces, moving around his sneaker-clad feet that stood before you. You tried to ignore his presence, tried to appear calm and composed. It was an uphill battle. The man always knew how to throw you off. He knew how to keep people on their toes. It was yet another facet of him that you both coveted and despised.

You hissed, feeling the edge of one of the shards dig into the tip of your finger. You stood and sucked the tip into your mouth, trying to clear the area of the blood that had started to surface. His eyes were on you, watching you with interest and a certain level of lust that you didn’t allow yourself to explore. You stiffened when he reached for your wrist and pulled your finger away from your lips. He inspected the cut, his flesh warm and soft against yours. It was a side of him that eclipsed the man you’d come to know over the last several months.

“It’s not bad. I’ll be fine.” You whispered, attempting to pull your hand free of his. It was futile.

“Band aid?”

“Uh...yeah. In that drawer. Next to the stove.” You pointed in the direction of the drawer, holding your breath as he retrieved the item. This time, you watched him. Watched as he unwrapped the bandage and tended to your finger with all the care of a parent with their child. He held the appendage steady as he got ready to wrap it, but he stopped himself. He locked eyes with you instead, making you shiver.

“I make you nervous.”

It was a statement. A very true statement. And yet you found yourself shaking your head; ironic because your voice felt too unsteady to use.

Your heart stopped when he placed a tender kiss to the cut. The air around you crackled with heat and tension. It was unlike any feeling you’d ever been subjected to before. It was danger mixed with primal fascination...attraction. And it called to you like a raft in a sea of treacherous waves.

He ignored your silent response and sealed the band aid over your finger, ensuring the ends were smooth against your skin. He didn’t let go of you.

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Trust is an important thing. And we’ve gotta have it if we wanna keep doing business together.”

His calm demeanor and gentle chastising made you a puddle of obedience. Your need to please wasn’t just born from fear. It was something you’d been unable to come to terms with until now. You saw it for what it truly was. You wanted to please him. In as many ways as he’d let you.

You nodded in response, agreeing to his statement.

“Let’s try it again then, yeah?” He started, eyes roaming your face. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

“The constant threat of my life makes it difficult for me to be calm.” You said, choosing to still be untruthful.

You forced yourself not to fidget as his stare scorched your skin. His black eyes roamed across the open expanse of your collarbone and to the modest neckline of your wrap dress. He licked his lips as he focused on the measured breaths of your chest, your breasts rising with each pass.

“That’s not the only reason.” He retorted with a shake of his head. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he spoke. “Don’t move.”

You said nothing as he bent down, continuing your failed task of picking up the broken bits of ceramic. You observed him dutifully gathering each piece, piling them into one large hand. His face looked pensive, as if he was trying to solve an equation in his head. You leaned against the island for support and bit your lip, unwilling to give into the lecherous thoughts that haunted you at night and managed to infiltrate your dreams.

“Nice dress.”

His compliment made you pause, looking down to meet that familiar smirk. He’d set what was left of the mug onto the counter, the floor relatively clear of large fragments. His fingers now played with the hem of said dress, the flowy material dancing in the air and away from your body.

“Thanks.”

Your voice was small. The apprehension so clear that you could both taste it. He found it funny. You found it humiliating.

He slowly straightened, taking the fabric with him as he gathered it to just above your knees.

“Color looks good on you.”

Again, the juvenile warmth of his praise sent you reeling further into anxiety’s waiting arms. Inwardly, you were responding to every lick of his lips and quirk of his eyebrow. Your thighs shifted restlessly against each other, waiting for that satiation that you hadn’t felt in forever. Outwardly though, you remained as skittish as a wild horse. You were as much on the edge of pleasure as you were on retreating.

“Thanks.” You said with a pleasant smile, wanting to conceal the yearning that bubbled just under the surface. You smoothed out the hunter-green fabric that rested against your abdomen, hoping to urge his hands away from you and the dress.

No such luck.

Instead, he ran his fingers up your skirt and along the outside of your thighs and hips, almost meeting the edge of your lace panties. Your traitorous body showed its hand, your nipples hardening in eagerness. Rio’s gaze predictably caught the action. And his face showed his approval.

“How long you been divorced?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his sudden curiosity. But the switch in topic had you alert again and somewhat clear of the fog he was so insistent on throwing you into.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?” You questioned, stepping back from his body.

His hands fell away from you finally, but they didn’t stay idle for long. They skimmed over your hips, pressing your backside into the edge of the kitchen island.

“Answer me, mama.” He demanded, head craning down to meet your eyes. The intensity of his stare made you shift on your feet. He had an amazing poker face. A skill that left you envious.

“Two years.” You dutifully supplied, leaning backwards every inch that he moved in.

“It’s been that long then.” He commented with a nod, a finger tracing along the neckline of your dress, hovering just above your cleavage.

“That long for what?” You asked, taking note of the subtle ways in which his face changed. There was no trace of the teasing, light-hearted flirting that you’d become accustomed to seeing from him. He was serious. Almost as serious as the times he’d threatened your life. His touch was more insistent, telling you what he wanted rather than hinting. His mouth lowered to your ear, his nose brushing against your neck in a far too erotic manner. Your fingers itched to anchor yourself to him. You denied the request.

“Since someone stretched you out.”

A gasp caught in your throat, though you didn’t know if it was more from his words or his touch. He’d managed to slip a hand under your dress, tracing the crotch of your panties with a dexterous finger as he spoke.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stammered, knuckles tightening against the edge of the counter you were currently gripping.

“I mean…” Rio started, lips brushing against the shell of your ear with each syllable. His finger barely teased your slit, but his voice more than compensated for the lack of physicality. “You haven’t had someone here,” He emphasized the word with a firm press of his finger against the soaked material that hid your clit from view. “In two years. Maybe more.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he continued to manipulate your body. Your head screamed at you to stop, to pull away. But the sensation of his body pressed so firmly to yours was far too comforting to deny.

“You don’t know that.” You attempted, though the effort was obviously pointless. It was true. Since your separation and subsequent divorce from Paul, you’d barely been on a date, much less had sex. Your body was fiending for it...for him. And he knew it.

He scoffed, finding amusement in your words. He pressed his finger along the same dampened area, seeing your eyes roll into the back of your head. He licked his lips when your hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

“Yeah, I do.” He affirmed with a nod, finger still teasing over your lace-covered slit. “He stepped out on you, didn’t he?” He continued, his eyes taking stock of the way you responded to his touch.

You had trouble focusing on the conversation he insisted on having while his hand was up your dress and practically in your underwear. You didn’t feel the need to supply an answer anyway. He already had all the information he needed.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

You were jolted back to reality by his words, straightening your spine and pushing his hand from between your legs.

“And what? You do?” You threw back, agitation seeping into your tone. You felt like he was patronizing you. He was always one step ahead. Always aware of the skeletons in your closet before you were.

“Never said that.” He said with a shake of his head, not stepping out of your space. His hands were off your body now, but the stains they’d left on you would remain there. They wouldn’t easily be erased. And you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted them to be.

“Why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“Business.”

“A simple call or text works for that.”

“Wanted to come in person.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore an expression of smugness, as if he knew something you didn’t, which was often the case.

“What do you want then?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He retorted swiftly, lips pulled into a thin line.

The seriousness was back, his eyes nearly swallowing you as all humor became sucked from the room. The nerves in your stomach came back full force, the fear aiding them in their efforts. He was challenging you, apparently done with your lying.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. He was too intimidating. Just too much.

“I-I can’t.” You finished lamely, shaking your head and looking down at your feet.

He tilted your chin up, his mouth only centimeters from yours as he dared you to move.

“Just say the word.” He rasped against your lips, his free hand cradling your cheek.

You let yourself stare back, taking in his dark lashes and the angles of his face. He confused you on many levels, angered you beyond belief. He made your life a living hell. And yet, you wanted him more than anything. More than the money and the thrill of crime. And somehow he was privy to it all. And he wanted to give it to you.

So you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.” You breathed out, your hands finally coming to rest on his chest.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth settled over yours in a tangle of lips and tongues. He tasted like mint, his lips much softer than they looked. The scratch of his facial hair only added to the moment as you pressed further into him, asking him to take more.

He did.

His hands were rough, but not unpleasant as they trailed along your body. They had the marks of healed scars. Not to mention the blood of those who chose to cross him. They were everywhere and all at once. Your breasts, your neck, your waist, your ass. He kneaded where he knew you yearned for more and tenderly stroked the areas in between. You struggled to keep up as his hips pushed into yours, his own yearning making its presence known.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say between heavy breaths, Rio’s mouth attaching to your neck and sucking near your throbbing pulse.

“Why not?” He mumbled into your skin, hands unwilling to slow down.

“Things will get complicated.”

He pulled himself away from the crook of your neck, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen pout.

“Yeah, they will.” He said with a chuckle, that devilish smirk staring back at you.

It was all a blur after that.

Limbs intertwined together as you worked on the buckle of his pants while he pushed your dress up and over your hips this time. He harshly pulled the lace away, the elastic snapping against your thighs as it got caught before making its way to the floor. Your mouths didn’t separate, not even when he lifted you onto the counter. He pulled one side of your dress away, exposing the matching bra you wore underneath. Your pebbled nipples called to him and he responded, massaging the flesh with expert precision. You moaned and writhed like a woman possessed. Like a woman that hadn’t been laid in two years.

“Feels good?”

The roughened gravel of his voice made your walls spasm, the hint of self-assuredness causing a wave of arousal to seep from within you. You could only nod, wordlessly pleading with him to continue on. His touch ventured south to your spread thighs. You widened them, allowing him access to the place you needed him the most. He didn’t disappoint.

His fingers were long and probing as they penetrated your sex, slipping easily in. You gasped at the fullness, the stretch around him making your eyes squeeze shut. He let your body guide him as he rubbed at your clit, his fingers curling against your walls.

“I’m...god...I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, only somewhat embarrassed by the suddenness of your climax.

He worked hard and faster. Your nails dug into his back, your mouth landing on his shoulder as you struggled to not cry out. You bit down when the euphoria of orgasm washed over you, trapping his hand within you. He could feel every tremor he brought forth as you shook in his arms. It felt like it lasted for hours, your body unwilling to let the feeling be a fleeting moment in time.

“You still with me?” He asked, lips pressed to your temple.

You nodded, hissing when he removed his fingers from the confines of your body. You watched, feeling as if you were in a daze. He shifted his pants and boxers down, revealing his length to your ravenous eyes. The hand that had been so deeply embedded in you now wrapped around himself. He was long and hard, as rigid as his hands. You felt like a moth to a flame, hand reaching out to feel if he was real. He was.

You swiped your finger over the tip of him and were overcome with wanton pride at feeling the moisture that sat there. His jaw clenched in a way that you’d only ever seen him do in anger. He didn’t allow you to continue. In an instant he was wedged between your thighs, his body already pushing into your waiting sex. Even with the climax from his fingers, he was a tight fit. You both expelled breaths, his a mumbled curse and yours a throaty moan. You shut your eyes as a new burst of pleasure radiated from your core and traveled up your spine. There was only a brief moment of intimacy as he sat unmoving within you, letting your body adjust to him.

It was short-lived.

“Fuck...” He cursed as he began to fuck you into the counter, hands holding your hips in place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lavished yours with kisses and bites, each thrust of his hips causing his teeth to graze your skin. The chill of the marble countertop beneath your bare ass cooled your overheated skin. You bit your lip so hard you could taste blood as he filled you over and over, each pass making your walls accept more of him. He was deep and hitting that gloriously elusive spot that sat within your womb.

He cupped your breasts while you scraped your nails down his back, hearing him growl in response. The sound made you yearn to hear more. So, you did something you’d always wanted to do...you licked the ink on his throat. You decorated his skin with tantalizing kisses, your tongue aiding your actions. He shivered against your lips, the reaction making your walls clench around him. He was, at least for the moment, a slave to your ministrations. And it was a high unlike any drug you’d ever encountered.

It was animalistic fucking at its finest. He hit every nerve, soothed every ache. The union of your bodies was enough to send you sailing off the proverbial cliff, but his touch kept you tethered to solid ground, longing for more. He rocked his hips mercilessly into you, making your back arch at an almost painful angle.

“Right there, huh?” He teased, feeling you squeeze around him in raw desire. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

You whimpered and tensed when he savagely rubbed your swollen clit, forcing your legs to tighten around him. He laughed, the sound ominous in your ringing ears. You could only hold on as he delivered the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. You spread your thighs wider, trying to get him closer than humanly possible. You opened your neck up to him, letting him have access to your bare flesh. You wanted him all over you and leaving a scorching trail of hunger in his wake.

It was manic. It was frenzied. It was passionate. And it all combined into a seductive elixir that made fireworks burst from within.

“Shit...I’m cumming.” You warned, feeling him double his efforts. Every muscle went taut with blinding pleasure as that coil finally snapped. You felt weightless, and yet the firm body still driving into your depths made you feel sublimely solid. And whole. More whole than you’d felt in the entirety of your marriage.

It was on the tail-end of your climax that Rio found his. His hips stuttered as he grunted and groaned, releasing himself into you and painting your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs while his face burrowed into your chest and neck. It was as uninhibited as you’d seen him. And you were addicted to the sight.

You both heaved with shallow breaths, the exertion of each of your climaxes literally taking the air from your lungs. The room smelled of sex and instant regret as you straightened in Rio’s arms. He separated from your body, eyeing you as he redressed. You shifted your dress back together to cover your bra, the mess between your thighs preventing you from closing them completely.

Before you could say anything, Rio reached up and cradled your cheek. He played with your bottom lip, his thumb once again finding the appendage. His eyes took in every part of you, as if he hadn’t fucked you senseless seconds before. He licked his lips in that dangerous way that let you know his thoughts were on more than just money.

“Business is good?” He asked, warm palm still pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Cool, cool.” He nonchalantly replied, hand leaving your face as he stepped back from your debauched body. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said with a nod, pushing your dress further down over your thighs, a lame effort to protect any modesty you might’ve still possessed. He smirked at the action.

“Might wanna clean up the mess.” He said with a cheeky upturn of his lips, hands gesturing to the remaining fragments of ceramic that still littered the floor but eyes locked solely to the spot between your legs. The place he knew he’d left a part of himself.

You bit your lip and nervously played with the hem of your dress, feeling his eyes bore into you. Despite still being fully dressed, you felt naked to him. Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You hated it.

He retreated, facing you as he walked backwards towards the front door. You watched him from over your shoulder, still unsure of what to make of the whole situation.

“And lock your door from now on. All kinds of madmen running around these streets.” He quipped, eyes lighting up at his own joke.

He was gone as fast as he’d arrived, causing havoc and then leaving without a second thought. The door closed with a crisp click at his exit, the house now feeling bare without his foreboding presence.

You didn’t move from your spot. You remained on the counter, Rio still leaking from your walls and your dress still disheveled despite your best efforts. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one riddled with panic. His unexpected visit left you with more questions than answers, all of which were tinged with fear. What did this development mean for you? Did it actually mean anything? Or was he simply taking what was so obviously laid out in front of him?

Did it matter?

No. It didn’t.

Because although he may have indulged your craving, your appetite was far from being fulfilled.

#rio good girls #rio #good girls rio #good girls nbc #nbc good girls #rio x reader #rio x you #rio imagine #rio fanfiction #rio fanfic

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years

Text

the 1995 brits x damon albarn & liam gallagher

hhhiiii I'm here with a very cute little fic about the brits!! the idea of writing something with Damon and liam fighting over someone was requested quite a long time ago (sorry it’s taken so long omg) but I loved the idea!! I do hope you all enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it a lot hahah xx

Pairing: 90s damon albarn & 90s liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: nothing, just a little bit of bickering n dat

Word count: 3.057

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

Being a part of the madness that adapted the name ‘Britpop’ was truly an experience. Paparazzi at every corner you turn, equipped with the brightest, flashiest cameras, also having the most annoying click noises to the point that after one image you’ve earned yourself a migraine that would last the entirety of the day; parties that would last entire nights, bearing millions of different kinds of drugs - some that hadn’t even been given a name yet, but you’d still give a try anyways, since you’re so high and drunk that you simply lose the intellectual capability to construct decisions, you say fuck it, and get so high to the point that you’ve blacked out in a booth in a bar, with the owner asking you to get out since you’ve been inside for one too many hours after closing time; as well as constant press coverage. With your name plastered over literally every newspaper and music magazine known to man, as well as having your entire life consistently dictated for the entire nation to read about every Sunday morning and indulge themselves into as a form of entertainment, it was what being famous delivered, right on your doorstep at 7 in the morning. Any earlier and you’d feel rude not to give them a cup of tea as a form of dignity and respect towards their sublime dedication to the job. Although it was fun being associated with it all, my band in particular gaining a different form of calidity due to it being a female fronted band, by the time that the entire nation was hooked on this ‘Blur vs. Oasis’ rivalry, it was as if every other britpop band had been washed away from existence, due to eight boys arguing as to whom had the better music. And the better looks, according to Liam Gallagher.

Tonight was the night of the Brit awards, perhaps the most prestigious awards ceremony for music. To be awarded a Brit was probably the largest achievement possible in British music in the form of an award, and it was definitely either going tonight to either Blur or Oasis. The chances that another band, say Pulp, were to get the award, would not only be extremely amusing to see the reactions of the two biggest names in the Britpop game, but would also cause the largest uproar in the nation. It’s either Blur or Oasis. “Their drama is so silly,” laughed Emily, the guitarist in our band whilst flicking through the latest edition of the Sun, the cover of the newspaper being, of course, Liam Gallagher. “They’re literally bickering about who looks the best. How do people find this interesting?”

“Because of how silly it is, people never leave their secondary-school-like selves. Just a bit of fun I guess.” I replied, fixing up my hair in the mirror in front of me. We were currently getting ready to go to the award show, and needing to look your best was an expectation. Though I wasn’t dressed in anything that would result in jaw’s dropping, it was important that I at least appeared somewhat admirable - the entire nation always had their eyes on us, but tonight they were going to see us all, live. Perhaps the reason why bands like Oasis and Blur are so obsessed over nowadays, since all they’ll do is turn up in some flimsy Adidas t-shirt and call that fashion. I suppose scruffy was the new elegant.

“Who do you think they’ll give the award to?” she questioned, still aimlessly flicking through the recycled pages of the magazine. “I think Oasis. Their music is so much better than Blurs.”

“Really? I’d say Blur. They won on top of the pops, so the likelihood of them winning the Brit award is highly likely,” I answered, shuffling away from the strong reflection of myself towards Emily, my eyes quickly scanning the page that she had her eye on currently. “Gosh Liam’s so full of himself.”

“He’s got his eye on you, you know,” She said, shoving the paragraph she had just read in my face of Liam boasting about his little crush he had supposedly gained from watching our latest performance on top of the pops. “Thinks you’re ‘well fit’.”

Scoffing in response, I mumbled back to Emily. “If he thinks that he’s sleeping with me, he’s very deluded.”

By the time we had arrived at the venue, you weren’t able to walk into the entrance without at least 50 cameras blinding your eyes and the shouts of so many begging for you to quickly turn your head and grin - the price for the photo would reach the many thousands. Once walking in, it was less crowded, only having select people by the ground floor, dedicated for musicians and bands, with the occasional interviewer walking past to every circled table, adorned with white cloth and champagne glasses, asking questions about how they’re feeling, who they think may win, and what they thought of the music throughout the past year. What was nice was that people didn’t have that much interaction with one another, just with their groups. It created a sense of formality in the space, which made me feel a bit at ease from the idea of some random row happening in the middle of the floor, most likely between Liam and Damon. The past year in music was truly something. Britpop was at its peak the entirety of the year, with songs like Parklife and Supersonic pouring out of every radio station in Britain that by the end of the year, you had ditched casual radio music and began blasting the classical station. It was a nightmare. Since the fall of grunge subsequent to Cobain’s death the previous year, the talk of any other genre in Britain apart from Britpop didn’t occur. It was as if we were living on this mystical island, miles away from any other music and culture, whilst adorning and obsessing over our own. What was nice about Britpop was that it was a pure celebration of English culture, whether it be a simple Sunday roast, or going to school, they all carried the same ambience of nostalgia and pride - also disregarding whichever band wrote what song.

“Free champagne… Yes please,” said Madeline, the secondary guitarist of the band, whilst heading to the first seat she could sit on, then quickly indulging herself with the first taste of the rich drink. “Oh my gosh it’s heavenly!”

Laughing at her reaction, the rest of the band took a seat around the table and took their first sips of the champagne, which we would all come to find to be indeed heavenly. Small talk was shared here and there with the rest of the group, but overall I stayed silent. In all honesty I found attending award shows was quite boring because if you didn’t end up getting an award, you would essentially be sitting there for two hours doing nothing. Even if you did win an award, it’s simply a minute of glory with the speakers blasting your music, and another minute of all eyes piercing into your soul as you make sentences about your gratitude towards those who had helped you along the way to earn such an achievement. I doubt anybody genuinely liked attending shows like these.

“The champagne is good, yet we don’t get enough for our table,” I complained, grasping my now empty champagne glass and waving it around in the air. “I’m gonna head to the bar to get a refill, anybody want anything?”

After receiving a handful of nos from the rest of the band, I took myself out of my seat and wandered over to the bar, which was empty, perhaps due to the venue not yet being completely filled with all the artists that were set to attend the night. “Just a refill of the champagne, please.” I asked politely, handing the bartender the used glass I had kept in my hand. Whilst waiting, I noticed that Damon was on the other side of the bar, who also didn’t notice me there, until he caught eyes with me.

A grin broke out on his face as I walked over to him. “You alright?” He asked me, quickly thanking the bartender for his drink and turning back to look at me. The height difference between us was evident, but it wasn’t the case of something so dramatic that he was the height of the empire state building and me, just a measly common tower in the city. He looked quite content, his hair scruffy yet neat, along with his outfit being just as I had assumed: a white shirt with jeans, a used pair of Adidas for shoes.

I smiled back at him and nodded. “Suppose you have high hopes for the award tonight.” I said, simultaneously receiving my refill of the beverage I had ordered, followed by my thanks. We stood adjacent, although there was enough distance between us to establish our relationship - mutual acquaintances whom had met every now and again, since they’ve both been dragged into this wormhole of madness. He was quite the opposite in comparison to his rivals, though he himself could be quite bothersome occasionally, he still had a grasp to what those may call sensibility.

“Oh well we’re better than them, aren’t we love?'' He chirped, his head now cocked to the side in a teasing manner. “I’ve heard that you’re rooting for us this year.” He added, a little smirk pasted on his face.

“Do you read every paper you see?” I questioned, my face turning away from him in slight embarrassment. Between us, there was no shared intention for a relationship to stem, though there was definitely a flirtatious tension that followed between us wherever we had met. Whether it be a random photoshoot for a magazine double-spread, or backstage at top of the pops, we always managed to share a chat with one another, and nothing else followed on from then. It was quite sad, because once you’ve established a connection between something you either both disagree or agree with in terms of societal views, something in the press, or life in general, you’re instantaneously cut off and asked to hop onto stage to record a meaningless three-minute performance with fake, plastic instruments which practically mean nothing.

“Well it was nice seeing someone else's face on the papers for once.” He replied, downing his drink, then ushering at the bartender for another. A thing that we both realised was that, between our conversations, we indirectly indicated that we were both there for each other, because we both had a complete understanding towards what may be happening to the other person. It was stressful being in the limelight constantly, and for someone who was the frontman of a band so large, with his face plastered on every magazine cover imaginable, things were bound to be stressful.

Sighing, I turned to face him again. Despite the fact that before I had the ability to respond, our conversation was cut short from a voice shouting my name from behind. “Well if it isn’t bloody Y/N.” the voice said, and from then I instantly knew it was Liam’s. Turning my face away from Damon’s, I locked eyes with Liam. As always, he was dressed in the usual: a parka, with casual jeans. Oh, and don’t forget the Adidas shoes. Even though he and Damon practically hated each other’s guts, they always seemed to have similar fashion senses, but I could never picture Damon in a parka. And I don’t think I even want to.

“How’ve you been love?” He asked, swinging his arm around my shoulder in a warm, but nonchalant manner. Me and Liam had a similar relationship to that of mine and Damons, simply just minusing the sentimentality of it. We were friends, and had come across each other at random parties, which opened the gateway for us to drink and get high together many a time. While he was quite the idiot, he was also a very fun guy to be around, but I knew Damon would never understand that. “And why’re you letting this twat chat to you?”

A laugh escaped Damon’s throat. “I think you’re the only twat here, Liam,” he began, a sigh leaving my mouth as I was trapped in a situation that I could only pray didn’t gain much traction from the rest of the attendees. “Me and Y/N are friends, don’t suppose we’re getting jealous are we?”

Liam’s grip on my shoulder tightened as I stared at his reaction to Damon. I felt quite small in this situation, due to me needing to tilt my head a good amount to properly look at Liam, and knowing if I left it would just erupt chaos and make it worse. “No need for me to be jealous when I know that she wouldn’t want to spend a minute with you in bed you bastard.”

“And you’re so sure about that are you?” Damon replied, amusement laced in his words. “Because you’ve totally spent a minute with her haven’t you?”

“Well I’ve got my arm around her haven’t I? And she’s not stopping me,” Liam argued back, a smirk entwined on his lips. Reaching for my hand, Liam grasped it lightly, then then brought it to his lips, kissing it, before holding it gently. Method of intimidation, perhaps, and though it was sweet, there was a time and place. And this was definitely neither the time, or place. “Who’s the jealous one now, eh?”

“The last I recall, she had hoped that we were winning this year, not you,” He boasted, moving the contents of his drink around whilst grasping it firmly. Whilst it would be something that would offend Liam, he was simply the type of person to not take criticism regardless of whomever it was coming from. I respected him for that. “So much so for a healthy relationship.” Damon mocked, staring into my eyes as a small laugh escaped my lips.

Granted that I had found the argument shared between the pair of them to be extremely silly, it was good entertainment as the time passed before the award show would begin. Watching them both, attempting to throw insults at one another, each one trying to cut a little deeper than the one previous, made me almost laugh at the both of them right there. “You know, it’s so silly that you both think you know me so well to think which one I’d pick from the both of you,” I said, detaching myself from Liam’s embrace and snatching my half-empty glass of champagne. “At this point, it’s neither of you.”

Walking back to my band’s designated table, I quietly took my seat as the show began. “Saw you chatting to Damon,” Emily whispered, raising her eyebrows. “Also saw you grinning like a madwoman.”

“Oh shut up you,” I replied, looking back at the bar to notice that both parties had left, assuming back to their places. “There’s nothing going on between me and Damon- Liam too in fact.”

~~~

As the ceremony went on, the boredom got to us. Even the amount of drinks I had didn’t entertain me, but what could we do, we were stuck in the middle of an award show celebrating music, even though I had largely doubted that the majority of those attending were enjoying themselves. I had no clue who the awards were going to be handed out to, and whether that somebody may be us in a category, but we all knew Blur were going to win something. Yes, Oasis had gained a lot of fame and had become one of the most famous bands in the music scene at the minute, but by the way things had gone for Blur after the release of Parklife, things only seemed to go further up from there. And that was only proven to be truthful, after Blur had left with four different awards.

After Blur had received their fourth award for best British group, we all knew that there was nothing left for Oasis. “They’ll get it all next year, they only debuted this year you know.” I said to the table, who were staring at the four smiley boys on stage as they trotted up to receive their award. I admired Damon as he said his speech, then also turning to look over at Liam, who looked quite evidently pissed off. He was practically drooling in anger from the sight brought to him at that particular moment, and I couldn’t blame him - their band hadn't gone home with one award that night, but neither had ours. “They’ve taken four awards home, isn’t that like, the most anybody has ever taken?”

“Indeed it is,” Madeline replied, taking a sip from her drink. “Must be a good year for them then, eh?”

As I watched the band leave the stage in absolute glee, I stared at Damon as he walked back to his designated seat for the short remainder of the evening. Despite the fact that my band had been sat in our seats the entire evening in complete boredom, just like Oasis and so many other acts that had been nominated for pointless awards, it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t proud of how far Blur as a whole had come and evolved through their music, and especially Damon. From beginning as young, bowl-cut boys only charting so far on top of the pops, to creating songs and melodies that could unite our entire nation, it was impressive.

Damon was the face of Britain at this very moment, and a very good looking one. Once I watched him sit down, he scanned the room for a while until he was able to find where I was sitting, which was parallel to his seat, merely a couple metres away. He connected eyes with me as soon as he found me, also accompanied with a small smirk painted on his expression as he raised his eyebrows and sent me a wink. I simply smiled back at him in response before turning away abruptly, disrupting the little moment we seemingly shared, and though I felt my heart flutter a little, he’s definitely not winning me that easily.

#britpop #fanfic #bandimagines #Liam Gallagher x reader #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #blur #Liam Gallagher #oasis #blur band #oasis band #my writing #fluff #angst

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gc-genshin · 3 years

Text

Chapter One: Acatalepsy

Acatalepsy (noun): The idea that it is impossible to truly comprehend anything.

Pairing: Various x female reader

Summary: You and Xiao have a nice chat.

Warnings: Explicit language

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: Since so many people wanted this series to continue, here’s officially Chapter One! Happy reading!

Prologue Chapter Two

You're still having a hard time believing what you're seeing.

In front of you sat Xiao, one of your favorite characters from Genshin Impact, glaring daggers at your seated form. A small table, no bigger than three feet wide, separated you from him.

And there you sat across from him, shaking in your metaphorical boots under his intense gaze.

Let's recap, shall we?

—

“Hi, my name’s [Name] [Last Name] and I'm from a world where you're a fictional character in a video game. It's nice to finally meet you, Guardian Yaksha Xiao.”

As soon as his name slipped from your lips, your neck was met with the end of his polearm. Though you somewhat expected this kind of reaction, you swore your soul had never left your body so fast.

“How do you know my name?” Xiao really did growl at you this time. His amber eyes pierced into your now soulless body, looking downright murderous.

“How do you know that about me? That I was apart of the Yaksha?” If you didn't know any better, you'd say Xiao was getting frantic. You did know better. But you were also a dumbass.

“Would you believe that I'm twenty-two now?” You managed to choke out. The polearm nearly breaking the skin on your neck was your only answer. “OKAY, OKAY, I’M SORRY! Please give me a chance to explain myself! I’ll tell you everything, just please don't turn my head into a shish-kabob!” You pleaded while closing your eyes. Wow, this is the second time today that I've danced with death, you thought humorously.

Xiao stared. And stared. Then stared some more. You were starting to sweat from his unresponsiveness. Peeking an eye open, you saw Xiao contemplate whether or not to believe you. You watched his beautiful amber irises flicker across your face, looking for any sign of deceit.

When he found none, he pulled his polearm away. Not completely, he was still on high alert, but enough so that you could breathe. You nearly wept real Jesus tears when he did. But that almost changed when he roughly grabbed your upper arm and transported you to his room at the Wangshu Inn.

The moment you both rematerialized he let go of your arm. Having been caught off guard from teleporting, you fell to the floor dizzy while trying to keep the vomit that crept up your esophagus down.

Xiao stared blankly at you, “What? Have never experienced teleporting before?”

Looking up at him from the floor, you take a deep breath before responding to him. “No, teleportation is nothing but a pipe dream from my world.” You then slowly sat up and gave him a tired, lopsided smile, “I’d be long dead before it's ever invented.”

Xiao once again just stares at you. You were such an odd human. He had never experienced someone with your type of personality.

Focusing on the task at hand, Xiao walked over towards a small table and proceeded to sit down on one side of it. He then pointed to the side in front of him and uttered a simple word.

“Explain.”

—

And so you did.

You explained everything to him. Like how you were currently a medical student, studying to be an ER doctor. You explained to him how he was a part of a video game you played in your downtime when you weren't studying. How you knew his background. That you knew what was going to happen in the future.

You explained it all.

“So… in your world you're actually twenty-two?” Xiao asked slowly, trying to fully comprehend what you had told him.

“Yup.”

“And your occupation was a healer?”

“Well I was still studying to become one, but essentially yes.”

“And I am considered a fictional character from a video game that you played.”

“Yup.”

“And you know everything that's going to happen in the future?” He pressed.

“Well not everything, only up to a certain point. Which leads me to ask this…” You prop your elbows on the table, interlacing your fingers then resting your chin on them. “Have you seen boy around my ‘age’,” you put air quotations around age, “ with long, braided blonde hair and dressed in all black?” You asked. “He would also have a floating companion that talks a little too much.”

Xiao shook his head. “No, I have not come across anyone that fits your description.”

Looking off to the side, you thought to yourself. Good. So he hasn’t been to Liyue yet.

Xiao raised an eyebrow at you. “How is that good?”

Startled, you whip your head to Xiao. Shit, I guess I said that out loud.

You give a hefty sigh. “Because it gives me a good idea of where I am in the storyline.” You say, looking back to him. “If he hasn’t shown up in Liyue yet that could mean I'm near the beginning of the game. Hell, he might not have even come yet.” You raise a finger to your chin. Then what would be the point of me being here? Would that make me the next traveler then? You looked towards Xiao. Well whatever the reason is, I'm here now. And it's important I found out why. I'll figure out the Aether situation when I get there.

Xiao looked at you confused. “Who are you talking about?”

You snapped out of your thoughts. Hesitating to answer Xiao, you wondered if it was a good idea to tell him about our main protagonist and antagonist just yet.

You give him a apprehensive smile. “I don't know if I should tell you just yet. I don't unknowingly want to start a butterfly effect. I'm sorry.”

Xiao then sighed and put his head in his hands, seemingly at a loss as to what's going on.

I think this is the most emotion I've ever seen from him.

You had half the mind to reach over the table and pet his head to try and calm him down. But then again, you quite liked having your arm, so you decided against it.

You gently spoke to him, “Trust me, I don't know what the hell’s going on either hun. If I knew more then I would tell you in a heartbeat.” You freeze, catching your little mishap. Xiao slowly lifted his head from his hands, looking at you quizzically. No anger, no vexation. Just pure confusion.

“Hun?” You feel your face start to heat up in embarrassment, hearing him say it. It was a bad habit that you had, calling your friends pet names; mainly just friends that you trusted. And you trusted Xiao.

“I'm sorry! It's a really bad habit of mine. I usually call all of my friends a term of endearment. Hun is short for honey, but I swear to God I didn't mean to call you that, it just slipped out!” You quickly explained to him, shaking your hands in front of you.

Xiao stared at you. You noticed he did that a lot. He's probably just trying to understand your weird mannerisms. “It's fine… I guess.” He said, finally looking away from you.

One… Two… Three… Four…

Ah, the silence is awkward now, say something [Name]!

As soon as you were about to open your mouth, Xiao beat you to it. “So what's your plan now?” He asked, now looking back at you.

You blinked at him for a few seconds, processing what he said. You then looked up to the ceiling, deep in thought. What is my plan now? What am I going to do? I obviously can't stay with Xiao, with him being an adeptus, and leech off of him. Maybe I could go to the Adventures’ Guild? Earn some commissions, maybe be homeless for a bit? But I don't even know how to use a sword. No, that wouldn't work–

Cutting your thoughts off, you responded to him with the only answer you could think of.

“I don't know, haven't thought that far ahead.”

Xiao should be used to this already. He really should. But he couldn't help but send the odd girl an unconvinced look.

“You haven't thought of a plan?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey! Need I remind you that you were there from the very beginning? I haven't really had the time nor the mental capacity to think of a plan for the future!” You huffed at him indignantly. This guy. You shake your head, clearing any annoyance you had with him. Getting irritated isn't going to help your situation [Name], relax. Taking a deep breath, you looked at Xiao. He seemed to be in deep thought, so you decided to not bother him.

Crossing your arms on the table, you finally felt exhaustion catching up to you since the adrenaline of everything was wearing off. You laid your head in your arms and sighed, trying your best to ward off sleep.

Xiao looked over at you. Seeing the state you're in, he decided you weren't fit to travel anymore. He then stood up, having made up his mind.

Noticing the abrupt movement from across the table, you see Xiao stand up and walk towards the door.

“Wh… where're you going?” You mumbled to him, too tired to raise your voice. Xiao looked back at you with his hand on the doorknob. “You're not fit to travel any more today. I'm going to talk to the receptionist about getting you a room here at the Inn.” He then opened the door and left.

You stared at the spot he was in for a few seconds. Huh, maybe he isn't such an asshole. You then put your head back into your arms, smiling softly. “Though I knew that already. Thank you Xiao.” That was the last thing you said before finally succumbing to sleep.

—

While walking down the flights of steps to talk to Verr Goldet about your accommodations, Xiao felt a shiver going up his spine. A whisper of his name in your voice flew through the breeze and into his ears. He paused in his steps, contemplating whether he should go back or not. You said you knew what happens when you called his name, yet why would you say it right after he left the room? Xiao suddenly felt nervous for reasons he did not know and teleported back to his room, polearm at the ready to strike any threats that appeared before you or him.

When he only saw you slouched over the table asleep, he relaxed. That was strange. I could have sworn I heard her beckon me. Glancing at you once more, he decided to ask you about it later. He then left the room and teleported right in front of the front desk, scaring Verr Goldet and the Inn’s cat out of their wits.

“Archons, Xiao! A little warning next time would be nice!” Verr Goldet exclaimed, a hand over heart hoping it wouldn't burst out of her chest. Xiao proceeded to ignore her.

“I need a vacant room.” Xiao stated.

Always straight to the point, thought Verr Goldet. “I'm sorry Xiao, but we don't have any vacant rooms. We're all booked for this years Lantern Rite Festival.” She tells Xiao. The young adeptus deadpanned at Verr Goldet. “Don't look at me like that. Why do you even need another room?” Verr Goldet wondered.

Xiao sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It's a complicated situation. Let's just say I have an unwelcome guest with me right now.”

Although curious, Verr Goldet just shrugged knowing he wouldn’t outright tell her. “Well either they stay with you or you kick them out. We don't have any rooms for them to stay in unfortunately, so the choice is yours.”

The young adeptus sighed once more.

How troublesome.

—

Appearing back in his room, Xiao looked at you. You were still hunched over the table, in what looked like an uncomfortable position, yet you were still asleep. Xiao weighed his options. On one hand, if you stayed with him he didn't know if you would leave, which would cause problems for the both of them. On the other hand, he could wake you up and kick you to the streets but deal with gnawing guilt that would eat at him if you were ever harmed because of his decisions.

Making up his mind, he walked over to your sleeping form. He then crouched next to you and gently scooped into his arms, doing his best not to wake you. However it seems that you were a deep sleeper and didn't stir in the slightest to being moved. You did, however, snuggle in closer to his chest seeking the warmth it gave off.

Xiao froze, waiting for you to stop moving before moving you over to his bed. Settling you on the bed, you immediately started reaching for blankets craving the protection they gave you from the cold. Xiao only shook his head and rolled his eyes at you, handing you the blankets you oh-so-desperately needed. Is she really twenty-two? Because she acts like a child. Xiao watched as you pulled the blankets up to your chin and snuggled into his pillow, [h/l] [h/c] hair draping over it.

Not needing sleep, the young adeptus decided to sit next to you and watch over you. Not in a creepy way, but in more of a way of trying to understand you. You might have been the strangest human he's ever met, but you were charming. In your own, unique way.

While watching you, Xiao was trying to figure out what to do with you. As far as he knew, you were defenseless, didn't know how to protect yourself, and had a sharp tongue that would most definitely get you into trouble.

In other words, Xiao hadn't thought that far ahead.

There she is! Chapter One! I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did writing it! As always, feel free to leave any suggestions and constructive criticism and if you wish to be on the taglist, please let me know!

Thank you for reading!

Taglist:

@craptainlou @lucys-art @dilucsz @i-put-the-dying-in-studying @softyakult @lumi-ying @fraeppuccino @ayachii @cher7ybear @simping-4-fictional-men

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mettywiththenotes · 3 years

Text

320 bits I wanna talk about

Iieda looks like he’s doing the *inhale* before the BOI IF YOU DON’T- meme. Something along the lines of “BOI IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR ASS BACK TO UA-” kind of thing lol.

He holding something in definitely. Maybe charging up for an attack? Idk but he sure seems concentrated

Actually, Iieda seems kinda considering. Maybe he’s weighing up if he should join in the fight, as if he’s asking “Will I have to fight Midoriya, if it comes down to it? Or can the others handle this?” Something tells me he doesn’t want to have to weigh in on the fight. Maybe tear into Izuku verbally, but fight? No I don’t think he wants to do that

But also, I find it interesting that that black panel of text is under him and then it cuts to Bakugou yelling at Izuku. I mean, it could very well be Bakugou thinking that, but if that’s so, then why is Iieda the first person we see?

So, I think it’s Iieda thinking that. Tensions are rising, it seems. I’m expecting his turn to be full of a lot of emotion, or at least trying to get across to Izuku that he feels betrayed but mostly just wants Izuku to come back home.

I don’t really know what’ll happen with Iieda exactly, but I’m totally interested to see what happens

I know Bakugou has problems with his emotions and words and stuff, but I also think here he’s trying to anger Izuku in order to get him to fight back, maybe so he’s more angry than flexible in a fight, so the end result would be Izuku getting too angry to predict anything and eventually tripping up, and that’s when 1A could capture him.

The one thing to remember about Izuku is that allowing him to think is going to be the opponent’s downfall. We saw in the Kacchan VS Deku 2 fight that Bakugou knew this and so kept attacking as much as possible so Izuku wouldn’t have time to think. Which worked, because Izuku is great at analysis, so making his “Win” attitude [getting competitive therefore putting more energy into attacking than strategy] come out over his “Save” attitude [you’re my friend and I want to help you] is kind of a weakness of his. That’s kind of one of the reasons he lost that fight.

Then again, maybe Izuku has improved since then? I don’t really know but I think enough time has passed for him to have maybe improved more on that so idk we’ll see

I really love Bakugou’s expression in that bottom screencap lol

His wound!! All bandaged up!! I wonder if there’s a scar there or smthg :O

LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I know Enji or Bakugou probably gave them details about the multiple quirks but I still find it wild that everyone just knows now

KOUDA! MY SWEETHEART! I’m glad he’s getting a part in this too, along with Sero. Two of them who didn’t really hang around Izuku but still want him to come back :’)

Sero and Black Whip! Finally! I mean it’s not much but it’s still better than nothing

Also, seems like Sero is trying to taunt Izuku to get him to attack him maybe [same as Bakugou feeding into Izuku’s competitive side] soooo idk Sero following Bakugou’s lead? Maybe :)

Look at how,,,, innocent Izuku looks,,,,, *head in hands* AND SERO TEACHING HIM!!

I knew this lil moment would come bite me in the ass at some point, I knew and yet I’m still tearing up goddamn

That “I thought she was going to tell me its a useless hobby” bit really drives home how Izuku’s friends are 1A, that he loves them and they were the only friends he’s ever had [except Bakugou but he was a bully at the time so I’m not really gonna count him for back then]. HOW many people before UA had gone around and told Izuku his taking notes hobby was useless? SHOW me the people!

I, mettywiththenotes, will NOT allow anybody to slander one of my own!

I know it’s like the only moment Izuku and Ojiro shared, with the sports festival thing, but it’s still really sweet that Ojiro sees that Izuku stood up for him

*head in hands*

Shouldn’t this kid be more worried that he’s likely going to get kidnapped?

“Yeah this super evil villain guy has decided he wants to kidnap me and take me away, but like nbd guys really, that’s why I left in the first place! So I wouldn’t be a burden!” Somebody get this kid a fucking therapist or some shit

This is kind of a chilling and pretty scene though. The rain falling above Izuku and him looking down with these piercing green eyes likely being the only light between them. Good stuff.

Satou! Aha I like how he’s pulling all the stops, such as “I WON’T LET YOU BORROW MY INGREDIENTS FOR ERI!”

Also let’s appreciate that Satou caught Ojiro and Jirou and managed to land on a freaking traffic light. The balance on this kid! Very well done

Kaminari putting Izuku in a headlock! How cute :)

Be cuter if they weren’t trying to subdue a martyr-complex cryptid from killing himself, but still

Does Shouji have some kind of support-item?? Or could he always do the stretchy thing?? Or I guess maybe he’s just stretching his arms out like branches [like he usually does] and using them as more like a capture weapon rather than his usual stuff. I don’t think we’ve ever seen him use his heteromorph body and quirk for anything other than the 5 senses, though I could be wrong

Also Shouji remembering what Izuku said at the training camp, I’m so glad! Shouji always seems like the kind to be so protective over his friends, so I’m glad he remembered that. Then again, Izuku did compare them to freaking ALL MIGHT, but if the nice analytical kid in your class who knows your limits and strengths says you could basically beat A GOD, then that’s definitely one for the memory scrapbook lmao

“It’s nice and dark here, Dark Shadow.” Who said that?? Kami or Izuku?? I just have this mental image of Izuku being shrouded in darkness and trying to keep his eyes open from falling asleep haha

Tokoyami remembering that from all the way back then!! It makes me think that not only have Bakugou and Izuku been watching each other, but that Izuku has always had everybody’s eyes on him! Which is true, he’s inspired everyone! It goes both ways; Izuku loving his friends, and them loving him back :’)

Kami telling him to take a bath lmao I love it. Finally somebody said it

*ugly sobbing noises*

This kind of segment, with a mask falling, a space in-between and a reveal, reminds me of Compress’ reveal :) In that, the person is hiding their identity and then when the mask comes off, they reveal who they truly are underneath

While Izuku is of course determined to go after AFO and is quite the fearsome powerhouse, I really think when he takes off that mask, he’s showing who he really is underneath - a scared little boy who just wants everyone to be happy

JESUS, SHOUTO REALLY IMPROVED HIS QUIRK HUH!! LOOK AT IT, IT’S EVEN HIGHER THAN THE SKYSCRAPERS!!

“The burden placed on you... it doesn’t allow for tears, right?” He sounds so sassy here.

Kind of like saying “Oh you look upset. But that’s weird, I thought Heroes weren’t supposed to cry.” Lol it really shows here how pissed Shouto is at Izuku

But then he relents from that snark and is like “Hey, come on, we’ll share this burden. I’m not letting you go it alone, remember that we’re all here.” :’)

I love when Shouto is sassy and passive aggressive but I also love it when he shows that soft side of him

Okay, this is something I really love.

Tsuyu didn’t join the Bakugou Rescue Squad because “they would be just like Villains breaking the rules”

But here she is, learning from that regret of hers and coming right back to make sure Izuku isn’t the one struggling. She wants to be a part of this rescue squad and pick up where she left off :)

Tsuyu has always struggled with her regrets. It was shown after Kamino when she cried, but for me, I only realised this fully during the Joint Arc when she had her regrets about not making better decisions and not being quick enough [I think that was it].

“I won’t cry in such a flurry” reminds me of “I want to live a life without regret” and so that’s what she’s saying here. This won’t be another regret of hers. She wants to do her best to save her friend

“When scared, you’re allowed to tremble when it’s tough, you’re allowed to shed tears. That’s how you become a Hero like in the comics.”

I feel like that quote piggybacks off of Shouto’s “Heroes cry too”, in that, this is now 1A comforting Izuku. This is them fully coming up to him and telling him that they can help, and that he’s allowed to feel sad about his situation. Shouto’s quote was the teaser, while this entire chapter [and the rest that come to follow] is the main course.

And this is exactly who Tsuyu is. Reassuring, comforting, someone dependable. It says a lot that she’s come from not going to help in Kamino, confessing her feelings and crying about it, then coming back in a similar situation and offering her help - that she’s not willing to just let an opportunity go to better herself. I think I remember reading a few posts on her crying after Kamino and saying it was “performative” or that she just “wanted attention” or smthg like that, but I think she’s really just quite an honest person, and here she is making a great show of how she won’t let something like her guilt slow her down from being the hero she wants to be.

[A part of me feels like this is also a little more evidence with the whole People Not Caring About Bakugou’s Feelings Of Helplessness but like. I digress. It kinda counts but at the same time, it’s not what is going on at the moment.]

Seeing everyone try to reassure Izuku was lovely, and I can’t wait for the rest. I’ve seen a lot of people waiting more for Bakugou’s portion of the battle [AND YEAH DUDE ME TOO] but I really feel like Bakugou’s won’t come until like 2 chapters later or something.

Cause, if this chapter is anything to go by, we’ll probably get through Mina, Mineta, Kirishima, Hagakure and Aoyama next chapter, and then we’ll move onto the “more important” conflicts which will be Iieda and Uraraka, and if their segments are chocked with tension drama and tears, then Bakugou will have a whole chapter to himself hopefully.

Which means we’ll probably have to wait 2 more chapters until we get that sweet, sweet Bakugou chapter :( I hope I’m wrong and it comes sooner than predicted but whatever

I know for some people, that’s all they want, but personally I love these little bits that reflect on the background characters. As someone who isn’t really obsessed with the background characters but also likes them enough to appreciate their development/the little moments they have, I gotta say I really liked this :)

#bnha #bnha 320 #bnha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #class 1a

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twices-pup · 3 years

Text

Tattoos Together

title : tattoos together ( son chaeyoung x gn reader )

word count : 1,682 words

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of needles

synopsis : [ requested ] you face a fear to remind your girlfriend, chaeyoung, that you love her for all that she is, including her tattoos.

side note : my first request finally done! i really hope the anon who requested and anyone else who reads this likes it! the request was a little vague so i had trouble making this fic long enough, and had to rewrite it a few times but since today is chaeyoung's birthday i was determined to finally get this out! happy strawberry princess day, everyone!! also, the title is definitely inspired by the song tattoos together by lauv because i suck at coming up with titles.

You were never one to be fond of the idea of getting a tattoo. It most probably stemmed from the fear of needles that you've had since you were a child and never quite grew out of. The mere thought of your skin being pierced and inked was enough to send a chill down your spine, which was why you vowed to yourself to never so much as step foot into a tattoo parlor.

Your girlfriend, on the other hand, loved getting tattoos. Her skin was like a canvas, and the tattoos she had gotten over the past couple of years were the works of art. You weren't surprised, Chaeyoung herself was nothing short of an artist, after all—if you handed her a pen and a piece of paper, she'd be able to conjure up a masterpiece out of thin air. Although you were still very much against getting a tattoo yourself, you've learned to love each and every one of the tattoos adorning her skin just as much as you loved the person herself.

Chaeyoung told you her intentions to get a couple more new tattoos shortly before TWICE began filming for the music video of their then newest title track, More & More, for the mini album of the same name. She was over at your place for a visit and the two of you were lazing on your couch together, television turned on and your eyes on the screen but neither of you really focusing on the program playing. You had an arm around her shoulders while she rested her head in the crook of your neck, the room pretty dark save for the light flashing from the TV screen and some sunlight that filtered in through your drawn-in curtains. "I've already looked up some designs I like," she had said. "I'll only pick one or two to get tattooed."

You didn't think much of it at first, the only thing that crossed your mind was "Ah, my girlfriend is getting another tattoo, cool." However, that was until you made an off-handed comment, with your eyes still glued on the TV. "You really like getting tattoos, huh? You have so many already, but you still want to get more."

Upon hearing your words, Chaeyoung suddenly became aware that you were subconsciously rubbing her upper arm gently, your fingers brushing right over the cherry tomatoes tattoo she had there. She didn't say anything at first, your living room back to being quiet other than the voices of the actors coming from the TV speaker. "Yeah, I really do," she suddenly answered you after you thought that the topic had been dropped. "I hope you don't have a problem with that."

Although she had muttered the last part under her breath, you were able to hear it clearly. You turned away from the TV to look at her, with a tiny crease between your eyebrows that were furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Why would I have a problem with it?" you asked her softly.

Chaeyoung met your eyes and sighed. "Not everyone is a fan of girls with tattoos, you know?" she said, her gaze dropping from you to her lap. "So as the person I'm dating, I hope you're not one of those people. Those people who hold prejudice against tattoos or something like that."

Throughout the duration you had known Chaeyoung, you had always viewed her as someone who's free-spirited and jaunty, who doesn't let what other, insignificant people think of her get to her head, as long as she's able to do what she wants to do and be who she wants to be. So seeing her suddenly be so self-conscious about her tattoos, about something she'd usually feel so natural about, caught you by surprise. You realized that, perhaps, as her significant other, your opinion of her meant more to her than that of others did, and you immediately regretted letting your guard down and making such a careless remark.

"Hey," you called out softly, reaching for one of her hands to hold it in yours. "I do not and will never have any kind of problems with your tattoos. I know you love them, and that's completely okay," you assured her, offering her a gentle smile when she looked up at you. Her eyes searched your face for a moment, before she started chuckling.

"Thank you, y/n. Wow, that conversation got so serious all of a sudden. I feel a little embarrassed now, let's talk about something else."

You obliged with a nod, letting Chaeyoung shift the conversation to a different topic as you didn't want her to feel awkward or uncomfortable. Though you did make a mental note to remind her more frequently that you loved her, every single part of her.

On the day of her appointment at her regular tattoo parlor, you gave her a call. "Hey, y/n," she greeted you when she answered her phone. "What's up? I was just about to head to the tattoo place."

"Yeah, that's what I called you for," you said on your end of the call, feeling a little nervous but refusing to turn back on your decision. "Would it be okay if I tagged along with you?"

Your question was met with a moment of silence as Chaeyoung fully took in what you were asking her. "You want to come with me...to a tattoo parlor?" she asked for confirmation, and you nodded, although you were well aware that she wasn't able to see you. "Yes," you verbally answered. "I wanna accompany you as you get your new tattoos."

Knowing you, Chaeyoung surely hadn't expected you to willingly want to watch her get tattooed, in fact it came as a pretty big surprise to her, but if that was what you truly wanted then she had no reason to refuse. She texted you the address of the tattoo parlor and you met up with her there roughly half an hour later, swallowing down your nerves and telling yourself that you were doing it for you girlfriend all throughout your journey.

As the two of you entered the establishment, Chaeyoung noticed your shifty eyes looking all around the tattoo studio, and saw that you seemed more unsure of your decision to come by the passing second. "If you're having any regrets, you can leave at any time," she told you.

Despite the slight uneasiness you were feeling, you quickly shook your head. "It's okay, Chaengie. Like I said, I'm gonna be here for you."

"But why? y/n, you and I both know you're scared of needles, including tattoo needles."

"Because I know how much you love your tattoos. And I love you, so I wanna give you my support."

Your response was enough to put a wide smile on Chaeyoung's face, and seeing her smile was enough to make you smile too, in spite of your jitters. Chaeyoung's hand found yours and held it tightly as she led you deeper into the tattoo parlor. "Thank you," you heard her whisper. "I love you too."

The tattoo parlor was brighter than you had imagined it to be, but frankly that was because you had pictured the place to resemble a dark, soul-sucking torture chamber. Although the sufficient lighting managed to calm your nerves down a bit, the many scary-looking tattoo designs—skulls, snakes, demonic faces—hung up on the walls as decorations weren't helping. As you sat next to Chaeyoung at one of the tattooing stations, you did your best to not look at anything that, to you, were frightening, especially the tattoo machines.

You stayed quiet and only watched as Chaeyoung showed the tattoo artist the designs that she had chosen and told him where she wanted the tattoos to be. Your body tensed up and your breath hitched in your throat when the man took out a tattoo machine and started preparing to tattoo your girlfriend. Chaeyoung, noticing that you were as stiff as a board, gave you a reassuring smile. As much as you appreciated the gesture, you weren't able to smile back.

When the man finally started, you immediately diverted your eyes from your girlfriend to stare down at the floor. However, that did little to nothing to block out the whirring sound of the machine as it did its job. You gripped Chaeyoung's hand, the side that wasn't being tattooed, claiming that you were comforting her, though she had a feeling that it was the other way around instead.

"You're acting like you're the one getting a tattoo," she couldn't help but tease you.

When he was done with her tattoos after what felt like an eternity to you, you let out a heavy sigh of relief. You were finally able to turn back to Chaeyoung as she showed you her two new tattoos, one of a plant on her upper right arm and another of a butterfly by her right wrist.

"Woah, they look great," you complimented, genuinely impressed by the artist's handiwork. "I can't believe I made it through that, I guess watching people get tattooed isn't so bad after all."

Chaeyoung raised an eyebrow at you, amusement evident in her smile. "It isn't, but saying you watched me get tattooed is a bit of a stretch," she opined, and you pouted. "I was still here nonetheless," you argued.

"Alright, alright. Fair enough." Your girlfriend chuckled. "Then maybe next time you can take it a step further and get a tattoo yourself."

You playfully scrunched up your nose at her words and were about to oppose, until she continued. "Maybe we can even get matching ones!" she proposed, her eyes bright with excitement over the idea. Your expression softened in an instant, a wide smile making its way onto your face. Whenever she looked at you like that, with such innocent joy, it was near impossible for you to ever say no.

"Well, maybe one day," you told her, as you helped her up from her seat.

"Maybe one day, we can get tattoos together."

. . .

please do not repost my work, whether on tumblr or on any other site.

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elvish-sky · 3 years

Text

Aerinithil Character Sheet

i’m so delighted to introduce you to my new OC, Aeri! I’m so nervous about this, but I really adore her and I’m so proud of the work I’ve put into her so I hope you all love her!

Aeri, by the incredibly kind person and wonderful artist @lady-latte !!!

Name: Aerinithil, meaning ‘sea of moonlight’ is the name given to her by her elven mother.

Nickname: Aeri. It’s what her father called her when she was little, and it’s stuck. (pronounced air-rhee)

Heritage: Half-elf, half-human. Her parents were an elf from Lothlorien and a man from Rohan that got lost and fell in love with her mother. They disappeared from everyone they knew and lived together in the foothills of the mountains west of Fangorn, raising Aeri there. The only being that ever knew there had been another union between elf and man was Gandalf. They were killed by orcs when she was in her 40s, her father living a very long life for a human. However, she was not offered the choice between a human lifespan, and an elven one, instead only given an extended lifespan. However, she doesn't know how long that lifespan is until she meets Gandalf for the first time.

Age: She was born on February 14, TA 2414, and is almost six hundred years old at the Council of Elrond.

Appearance: Aeri is 6’3, a normal height for an elf, but tall for a human. However, she is shorter than Aragorn, who stands at 6’6. She’s very muscular after so many centuries of physical activity, and lean, but not slender like the elves, a reminder of her human heritage. She does have the elven pointed ears, though.

Her hair is a mahogany color and wavy, reaching to the small of her back when she actually leaves it down. Which is rare- one of the things she hates the most is having hair in her face, so it is almost always in a long ponytail or various kinds of braids.

Aeri has piercing blue eyes, a much darker blue than usually seen, but with starbursts of aquamarine around the pupils. She has a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and a few around her face. She also has a triangle of freckles on her right shoulder, something that her father had too, which has always puzzled her but she sees it as a connection to him. Her nose is slightly upturned, and her lips are somewhere in between rounded and heart-shaped, but she can never decide which.

She has a lot of scars all over, a result of centuries of fighting and a whole lot of clumsiness. She has one on the bottom of her chin from tripping as a child, that Aragorn tried for years to get the story about out of her and once he succeeded has not let her forget it. She received a scar at Helm’s Deep that stretches from her hip, across her thigh and almost to her knee. She also has a small one on her cheek from where an arrow grazed her during the battle at the Black Gate.

Personal Information: Aeri is usually very hostile with new people, but secretly craves connection and is rather touch-starved. She’s become almost numb by the time she joins the Fellowship and only does that because she received a message from Gandalf, who, when she met him centuries before, had promised to never ask her for anything unless the situation was truly dire.

She does have a sense of humor and enjoys the antics of the hobbits. Her common sense is strong, and her intuition is finely honed. She’s also inquisitive, sensitive, and has a large amount of hope, qualities that come to light as she starts to unconsciously think of and treat the Fellowship as a family.

Aeri is scared of bees, but she doesn’t know why (and thinks bumblebees are adorable, she’s just scared of any other kind). She has nightmares about her parents’ deaths that constantly trouble her, and hundreds of years later often wonders that if she’d been there, would she have been able to save them? She also suffers from panic attacks and is very nervous in large crowds, but she has learned how to cope over the years, and Aragorn teaches her tricks he uses as well.

In the years between her parents’ deaths and joining the Fellowship, she traveled Arda, visiting everywhere from the Shire to Erebor. She always returned home to the cabin in the foothills of the Misty Mountains near Fangorn, alone, with the books and goods she brought back to keep her company. And her horses and dogs over the years.

She’s fantastic with any weapon you put in her hands, but her favorites are her long twin daggers (that she bonds with Legolas over) and her long cutlass that befuddles Aragorn and Boromir.

Aeri, from this picrew!

Friends: Once the Fellowship gets her to trust them, on the way to Caradhras, she opens up a little more. She becomes fast friends with Merry and Pippin but enjoys Sam’s quieter company and Frodo’s thoughtfulness as well. She also knows a lot about compulsion and temptation and helps Frodo with the ring. Boromir quickly becomes her brother-in-arms, and she manages to take down the Uruk-hai that tried to kill him, saving his life. Legolas has a harder time trusting Aeri, especially because he can see the elvishness in her but knows she’s not fully elven. However, when she rescues him from an orc patrol one night they become friends, and he teaches her more about her heritage. She and Gimli don’t interact much until Moria, but he sees the respect she’s showing and they begin to like each other.

During the several months between her arrival in Rivendell/The Council of Elrond and the Fellowship’s departure, she becomes friends with Arwen, the first being she lets her guard down around in many years. However, she always feels a sense of jealousy around the elf, which she doesn’t realize is because of her feelings for Aragorn for a long time.

She also becomes really close with both Glorfindel and Erestor during her time in Rivendell, enjoying the warrior’s battle-wisdom and humor and the councilor’s quiet thoughtfulness and sass.

Love Interest: Aeri and Aragorn do confess their feelings for each other some time during the quest, much to Merry and Pippin’s delight when they hear of it. However, it takes a while, and there is lots of pining along the way as both think the other wants nothing more than to be friends. Aeri is intimidated by the fact that Aragorn is the Heir of Isildur, and Aragorn is intimidated by the fact that Aeri is a half-elf that’s been alive for eight hundred-ish years. Some hilarity ensues from this as well, much to Boromir and Legolas’s enjoyment.

Aeri and Aragorn with this picrew!

i’m tagging everyone on my everything tag, as well as people i think might be interested and just some that is really like to see this! i’m sorry if you don’t want to be tagged and i hope you’re not mad, i’m just very excited about this!!@entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @hey-its-nonny @laurfilijames @grunid @claraofthepen @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth @starryeyedrogue @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @ladylouoflothlorien @lady-latte @luna-xial @elles-writing @band--psycho @annkdarar

this character sheet was inspired by @guardianofrivendell ‘s for her amazing OC Tullaina, which you should check out here!

and a huge thank you to @laurfilijames who gave me the push i needed to do this. thank you so incredibly much, i hope you like her!

#aerinithil #aeri #aragorn x oc #my oc #aragorn x aeri #oc #original characters #original character #aragorn #aragorn son of arathorn #aragorn elessar #estel #lord of the rings #the hobbit #jrr tolkien #maiawrites #movies

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mintvender · 3 years

Text

UTOPIA [ 7 ]

Pairing: BTS x Y/N

Synopsis: Y/N L/N, the name of the current monarch of Corea. They became the ruler after successfully ending the previous king along with the dynasty as well. In their harem, countless men are present to help balance the court’s power. However, is this truly their intentions? The palace was always a place that needs to be proceeded with caution but as time goes by, recklessness would most likely outweigh it. You found yourself unable to prosper the kingdom without being too connected to it.

HaremAu!

Warning : Suggestive Content

Word Count: 9.8k

A/n: Finally finished this chapter. This chapter marks the end of the first era where the main ensemble finally unite. However, this is also the start of something else. Tell me what you think, 🌿.

Masterlist

Humming a quiet melody, you felt the air around you stirred. Closing your eyes, you focus on the sensation of the flow around you, patiently waiting for a response. Expectedly, your question was not answered.

Nevertheless, you knew better than to give up your standing and continue to participate in this wordless battle. After all, as a member of the Crimson branch, it would hurt your pride to lose to such a miscellaneous game.

Slowly but surely, the air around you both began to constrict, seemingly trapping you in its borders. However, instead of surrendering to either of your guys’ unmoving selves, none made a move in anything close to failure and instead, waited.

Such a manipulator.

Seconds steadily merge into minutes, and before you know it, you are left with a quarter of an hour before having to head back. Looking at the entrance of the alley, it had seemed that the sun was already setting. Turning around to meet Raven’s eyes, you let out a smirk before pushing yourself off the walls.

“ If you don’t have anything to say then I guess there is no other purpose being here,” you taunted, heading towards the bustling street.

Purposely exaggerating your steps to enhance the sound of your shoes colliding with the floor, you confidently walk the opposite way, not glancing back. However, before you can bathe under the colourful lanterns, an arm slid around yours, pulling you back into the darkness.

Quick to hide your growing smirk, you let yourself be dragged back deep within the alley. Turning around, you look down at the piercing eyes, staring menacingly into your own.

“ Stop joking around,” Raven warned.

“ Answer my question then,” you insisted, “ Why have you called me?”

Even with the mask, you could tell that she was rolling her eyes at your ridiculous question. Reaching into her long sleeve, Raven took out a thin envelope and shoved it into your arms.

“ The Master wanted to give this to you.”

Looking at her knowingly, you flick the tab open, reaching in to get the paper. Pulling the paper out, you motioned her to bring the lantern closer. You both peered through the content of the letter, processing the intentions that have been conveyed. Looking into each others’ eyes, silently having a conversation.

After a while, you both synchronously nodded, agreeing on the best solution.

Standing straight up, you carefully tuck the letter into your inner sleeve. You patted the spot a few times to test its stability as you mindlessly listened to Raven’s plan.

“ You do know that it is better to do it now than later right?”

Stopping what you were doing, you clench your hands repeatedly while staring at the ground. Letting out a tired sigh, you tussled through your hair in frustration, making obvious attempts to ignore her question.

“ You kno—“

“ I know!” You growled, biting your inner cheeks. “ I… need time to adapt to this current life. After that… I will tell them.”

Without looking at her, you could already define her expression of knowingness. Even so, you ignored it, too caught up with your thoughts and forceful emotions.

Letting out a loud sigh, “ Mind joining me for a drink?”

Looking into Raven’s eyes, you could almost spot specks of whites and yellows swirling into her magnificent midnight black orbs. Despite how gorgeous they were, you knew that they held nothing more than pity and sympathy; ones that aimed at you— your decisions specifically.

Once again, you both held eye contact for however long before Raven broke it with a gentle shake of her head. She nodded, quietly accepting your invitation, stepping away from you.

Following her lead, you nodded, tightening your grasp on your own mask, in which you had taken off unconsciously during the discussion.

Fingers running through the surface, you admire each stroke that has been carved into the wood. Unlike Raven’s who was smothered in shades of black and grey, yours was painted in a variety of red and gold. In another way, it showcases the difference between your animal and hers.

Each member of the clan is subjected to form their alias based on their branch and their ones that resonate with them.

For example, your branch— the crimson branch is categorized as a physical branch, people who focus on close combat. As a result, all the members within the branch are named after predators of all kinds, except birds. Raven, who belonged to the Gold branch, specializing in long-distance attacks, are thus named after various avians. With that, the Azures are categorized to different strategic pieces and theories, while the Veridian branch are varieties of poisons, and the Titanium branch, are all the raw materials used for craftsmanship.

Bringing the mask to your face, you quickly fasten it, lifting your hair to hide the knot under it. You started heading out of the alley, Raven following right after you and into the clusters of light.

As you both walked through the noisy crowd, you glanced around at the assorted shades of lanterns that are hanged throughout the district, most in deep, bright shades of red, confirming that you were indeed in the epicentre of the red district.

The red district was a very interesting place that attracts a wide audience— for the many different reasons that are available. Some people come here to do business— both legal and illegally, while some search for companions—for the reasons you won’t go into. Anyways, in your guys’ case, it was the former. Now for whether it’s legal or illegal? You didn’t exactly know.

Along the way, you randomly chose a cozy-looking winery in the depth of the district, one that wasn’t filled with too many lustful people.

This particular winery was unlike many others. Instead of drenching in the odour of alcohol, the winery quickly filled your senses with a delicate and flowery scent. Curiosity hitting you like a brick wall, you glanced around to try and find where the scent was coming from.

“ Welcome, precious guests,” a velvety voice greeted.

Perking your head up at the voice, your head naturally followed the direction. Immediately after looking up, you were faced with a figure adorned in pieces of red. Unexpectedly, the voice owner’s face was beyond any noble ladies in the capital, with a sharp yet captivating gaze, and perfect proportions. To say the least, she was flawless.

Seeing your guys’ silence, the lady let out a smile.

“ Please, follow me,” she said, leading you into a quiet corner, invisible to most people.

You nodded in gratitude, taking a seat on one of the wooden chairs.

“ What would you like?”

Looking contemplated, Raven asked, “ What do you specialize in?”

Eyes sparkling in excitement at Raven’s word, the lady clasped her hand together before clearing her throat, “ Finally! The Silvering Winery specializes in mixed drinks.”

Raising your eyebrow, curious of the reason for her being so excited, you asked, “ Don’t people come here for that since it’s your specialty?”

Reacting to your question, the lady huffed out a sigh, her eyebrows crunching up in frustration. “ Of course not! All we have coming are old, drunken men who know nothing more than jugs of those tasteless alcohol! With our location, even if so hidden, people still manage to find it. No one ever asks for mixed drinks… until now at least.”

You smiled, taking interest in her talk, “ Any recommendations you have?”

Tapping her chin carefully, the lady took her time to think as she scanned over the both of you. “ Mhmm, how about this? I’ll create drinks based on what I get from each of you.”

Raven hummed in agreement while you nodded in interest,“ Please… Mmm...Is there perhaps a name we could possibly address you?”

Plushed lips curling up to a smile, she answered, “ Please call me… Lisa.”

“ Sounds foreign.”

Lisa nodded, “ I’m from the west.”

Smiling at her words, you introduced, “ Please call me Phoenix.”

“ Raven.”

“ Then we’ll be in your care, Lisa.”

Turning around, Lisa headed off to what seemed to be the kitchen, “ Don’t worry, I never disappoint my customers.”

You waited for the retrieving figure to enter the kitchen before setting your eyes back to the decor of the place. The whole venue was covered in wood, planks attached to the floor while chunkier pieces are used to form tables. Smaller pieces of wood are spotted splattered across the walls and the tops of the very many seats. On your guys’ table, a tray sat there, holding a plate of sweets accompanied by two wooden cups, filled to the brim with scorching hot herbal tea.

Reaching over to grab yours, Raven following right after, you both enjoyed the taste of the herbs in silence. Letting the bitter taste coat your skin, you hummed in satisfaction as the warmth spread through your body, seeping into your core.

Unlike your usual mask where it covers your entire face, this one only covered half of it, thus making it much more convenient to use during these situations.

“ It’s been a while since we’ve had a normal conversation.”

Humming in interest, Raven continued to sip her tea.

“ How have you been?”

“ ...I’ve been good. Just the usual stuff, nothing new.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, you reach over to grab a piece of sweet.

“ How have you been?”

Biting into the dessert, you munch on it while thinking over the question. “ It’s been hectic. This year has been a little … overwhelming.”

By the perked-up eyebrows, you could tell that she was interested in your wording but seeing how she had no intentions of mentioning it, you also dismissed the minor detail.

“ The Master had given you such a significant mission, it’s no wonder it would be so tiring.”

Tightening your lip to form a small smile, you nodded in agreement, your head bouncing with the force. “ In the beginning, I often wondered why the Master has assigned me to be leading this mission when there are clearly more suitable people than me.”

“ Who?”

Looking down to your own cup, you stared into the reflection of yourself painted on the layer of liquid. “ … For starters, you.”

Chuckling at your response, Raven eyed your slightly sunken form. “ Me? I have no interest in this type of mission. In fact, I’m quite glad that you were assigned to it. This way, at least, I have some reassurance that the mission is more likely to succeed.”

Refusing to look at her, you smiled in acknowledgement, the happiness unable to reach your eyes.

Seeing your sullen state, Raven reached out her hand to grasp yours, comfortably stroking over your knuckles.

“ You will do fine. In fact, you’ve done so much more than what that bastard has ever achieved in his entire life.”

Wincing at Raven’s profanity, you cracked out a smile.

“ You’re lucky he’s dead, if not…” you spaced out, slicing your finger across your neck to continue your sentence.

Raven smiled at your joke. “ You’re part of the Crimson branch, Y/n, a predator that stands out among the rest,” Raven reminded you, “ I know that this is weighing a great deal of pressure on you but know that we are always here to assist you.”

“ ...You’re really bittersweet, Raven.”

Blinking calmly at your comment, Raven replied, “ Of course.”

Feeling the conversation fade away, you both followed the flow, quietly minding each other’s interest.

“ What’s with the atmosphere here?” Lisa announced, entering the scene, carrying the beverages on a tray. “ Now, now. Don’t be too sullen. Let me cheer you up with these drinks,” she proudly proclaimed.

Looking at the drinks that she had placed in front of you, your eyes glimmered in interest. Picking the cup up, you brought it closer to you, inspecting the contents within the cup.

“ What is this?” You asked, sniffing the aroma that was escaping.

Resting her arms on her hips, she explained, “ With Raven’s, I decided to go with a simple drink. A combination of our winery’s signature wine and rice wine have been added to highlight a clean yet edgy taste. Swan Knife”

Raven nodded, lips curling up in satisfaction. Picking up her cup, she slowly bring it to her lips, taking small gulps to savor the taste. “ Swan Knife? Mhmm, it fits.”

“ Of course.”

“ What about mine?”

Clapping her hand in excitement, Lisa giddily answered, “ Yours was a combination of the winery’s freshest batch and an old brandy imported from the west. I topped the drink off with a little citrusy tang to highlight the harmony of the senses. Overall, you will experience the sharp, bitter, and tangy sensation in one mouthful. Bittersweet Kiss.”

Taking in a deep breath, you mentally cringed at the name while Raven openly smirked at the coincidence. “ Sounds like a roller coaster,” you hummed, taking your gulp.

Closing your eyes, you let the taste of the alcohol cover every crevice of your mouth, confirming what Lisa said to be true.

“ Interesting,” you said, “ Definitely worth your praise.”

Preening at your praise, she happily thanked you.

Using the tea to cleanse your palate, you repeatedly go back and force between the two beverages.

“ Why don’t you join us, Lisa?” Raven offered.

Shaking her head, she gave out a sad expression, “ I’m afraid that won’t be possible. My other customers are waiting.”

Taking a quick look around, you couldn’t spot any other customer except for yourself and Raven. However, as if on cue, the door was slammed open, revealing a bunch of drunken men, toppling over each other to try and enter the space.

“ LISA! Give me the usual!”

Rolling her eyes at the male, she quickly covered it with a smile, bowing in greeting at you before heading over to the other customers.

“ She seemed like an interesting fellow,” you noted before going back to your drink.

“... Has the Master been demanding?”

Stopping yourself at the question, you bite your lip in confliction. “ In some aspects, yes, he is. But I still don’t understand what we are getting out from these missions.”

Raven swirl her drink in a circular motion. “ The Master is planning something big.”

You snorted, “ Of course he is. He wouldn't assign me this mission for some petty excuses. You...you know something right?”

Confirming your theory at her refusal to look you in the eye, you nodded in understanding. “ You don’t need to tell me. I understand.”

“ No, it’s not because I don’t want to tell you but it’s … complicated. But what I can definitely guarantee you is that the Master is planning something that you will never expect.”

Staring at her features, you slowly studied the face that you’ve known for years. Suddenly, you came up with a surprise connection, one you didn’t expect to come nor become real.

“ If I look at you now, you hold some resemblance with someone I know,” you nonchalantly commented.

Stiffening at your sudden observation, Raven fidget with the cup in her hand as you stared her down, trying to identify who it was.

“ Who?” She meekly asked.

“... H— No i think I’ve mistaken you with someone else,” you covered up.

There’s no way that this is a coincidence. I’m just overthinking it.

Subtly shutting her eyes at your response, it was obvious that Raven didn’t wholeheartedly believe your words but ignored it either way.

“ I heard that you started adopting consorts, and changed the initial plan.”

“ … I did unconsciously recruit a few more consorts aside from Taehyung, and did manage to alter some part of the plan. However, I promised that it’s nothing major. The plan is progressing relatively smoothly.”

Chuckling at yoru panicked voice, she assured you, “ It’s fine. There’s no need to panic, I was just asking… Are they good people?”

Unconsciously smiling at the thought, you hesitantly nodded. “ They’re interesting people. Certainly unique in their own little ways.”

“ You know that you attract many people to your ways, right?”

Snorting at her response, you cheekily grinned. “ Good or bad, I wonder.”

Raven looked at you knowingly, before smugly looking at the decor around you, not wanting to give out a verbal response. Raising your eyebrows at her antiques, you also took your stride in looking around.

On instinct, you looked over at the opened doors to be met with a background of the dark sky, illuminated by lanterns. Hastily standing up, you bided Raven goodbye, “ Looks like it’s my time to go now. When you have the time, make sure to stop at my place.”

Going to the door, you almost couldn’t catch Raven’s greetings. Feeling a small smile adorned your face, you quickly exited the winery and back into the streets.

Looking at your previous spot, Raven mindlessly sipped her drink.

“ They’re certainly an interesting one, aren’t they?” Lisa pipped in.

Raven smiled, “ Definitely.”

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

Once again in the crowds of the festival, you hurriedly dodge through the drunkens, careful to not hit the vulnerables. Smiling every so often to showcase your politeness, your feet quickly carried you to the opposite end and eventually to a left turn.

Letting out a deep sigh, you were thankful for getting out of the mess in one piece. Just being in the place gets you to have flashbacks about previous experiences.

You slowed down your pace, making sure to not look any stranger than what already meets the eyes. . Unlike the previous district who was filled with energy, this place is quite tranquil considering it is a more major district of the capital.

Eyes constantly scanning the area, you felt yourself stopped at a particular parlour. Approaching the stall, you took your time admiring the items that were put on for sale.

Grazing over the various accessories, you smiled at how detailed the carvings are. Feeling your finger twitch at a certain ornament, you brought it closer for inspection. Hooking the look around your finger, you twirl it around to test its stability.

Not bad.

“ Owner, are there any other colors or designs for this?”

Clasping her hand in excitement, the owner hurriedly displayed the other designs available.

Eyes sparkling in interest, you inspect ones that caught your sight but couldn’t decide on which one to buy. Seeing your uncertainty, the owner said, “ If you don’t mind me asking but who is it you plan on giving it to?”

Looking up to look at her eyes that had started to droop from old age, you politely smiled. “ I am planning to buy it for a… a friend.”

Raising her eyebrows at your reply, the owner took a moment to look over at the collection, “ Is there anything in particular that stands out about them?”

“ … sunshine.”

Looking back and forth between you and the collection before she boldly handed you an ornament. Graciously accepting the ornament, you take a second to inspect the item.

“ This norigae* is sewn from one of the most popular materials this year. Even though the threads are sewn together, similar to a rope, it is very soft yet also extremely steady. The customer had said that your friend holds similarity to the sun so I thought that the golden color would suit them.”

Nodding at her observance, you happily accepted her advice. “ Thank you. I will take this one.”

Returning the ornament back to her, you looked down again at the accessories before spotting a few that had caught your eyes.

“ Owner, please also pack these up for me,” you said, pointing at a few items, “ Here is the money. Keep the change.”

Bowing at her in gratitude, you accepted the wooden box containing your goods before heading to the tea house. On the way, you once again tuck the box in your sleeves in case of any ill intentions roaming around.

Resuming your previous pace, you continue to scavenge around the district while on your way back to the tea house. Amidst the way, you noticed an inconsistent pattern of people that were accumulating in front of a store nearby, coincidentally blocking your path.

I must be aligned with crowds today, you sighed.

After standing in the same spot for a few moments, you begrudgingly put on a brave face and courageously walk toward the crowd, hoping to not be pulled to pieces.

Taking a deep breath at a particular hard jab, you desperately sucked in the warm, moist air around you, trying to not groan too loudly. Tightening your stomach in an attempt to make yourself seem smaller, you try your best to push through the crowd of people.

Hissing at a young lady that had bumped into you, stepping on your toe in the process, you suddenly found yourself stuck in the center, with no available escape route.

Sighing at your unfortunate situation, regretting your decision, you were suddenly aware of the admiring gazes that wee being pulled. Looking around in curiosity, you wondered why everyone was looking so intrigued … until you heard the strings of the gayageum* being plucked.

Ears on alert at the melody that was being played, you turned your head in the direction, your feet unconsciously headed towards the music until you were just behind a few other bypassers.

Once you had registered what was happening, your eyes widened in surprise at the main highlight of the performance.

Hoseok.

There he was, your Noble Consort, was at the center, seemingly carrying all the major parts of the piece, giving no care to the crowd that had surrounded him. Eyes closed, Hoseok let himself go and simply followed the flow of the music, in a complete trance where the only thing that existed was himself and the melody.

Robes fluttering along with his movement, Hoseok continue to move with th music, seemingly becoming one with the melody.

Speechless at the scene that is happening in front of you, you stared at his dancing figure in complete silence, completely forgetting where you are, too focus on Hoseok, himself. It also seemed that you were too involved in the performance that you, also gave no care to your surroundings.

Eyes staring at Hoseok, at his every movement— twirls, turns, and jumps, you engulfed yourself to enjoy the performance, deciding to put away your questions for later.

Slowly, one song after another ended yet Hoseok still kept dancing while you kept your eyes glued on him. No matter how many times you were pushed around, or the constant change in neighbours, you still remained in your spot only snapping out of your daze at a particular hard push.

Eyes glaring at the intruding figure, you shake your head to clear up your mind. Noticing at the slow change in melody indicating that the song was about to end, you looked at Hoseok one last time before turning around and returning to your tracks, this time making sure to not go off it.

At least I know I’m not the only one who’s late.

As you calmly walk through the street, the scene that had unfolded in front of your eyes kept coming back. Hoseok’s smooth yet sharp moves, soft yet powerful gestures, and how he managed to control the air around him made you more curious about him.

Who exactly are you?

Silently entering the tea house, you were too deep into your thought that you had even dismissed the greetings of the servants and instead just followed their lead to your previous spot.

“ Give me a serving of the sweets to go,” you mindless order.

Leaning back against the chair, you glanced down the window, searching for Hoseok’s incoming figure. However, you soon find out that he wasn’t going to come anytime soon. Even after receiving your sweets, Hoseok still did not come.

Placing the money down on the table, you grabbed the sweets and left the establishment and instead settled for the outside stairs to wait for him. Feeling your skin itch in agitation, you feel your anxiety increase as the minute goes by.

Where is he?

Feeling your mood getting increasingly worse, you accidentally growled at a man that accidentally touched you. Apologizing was a hazy memory when you were in this current state yet you still find yourself waiting, somehow not finding the need to go and find him yourself. However, in all of foolishness, Hoseok is bound to get at least a few of your lectures.

Finally, after the moon was halfway on its route, a familiar figure finally appeared. Letting out a breath that you didn’t know existed, you ruffled your hair in both relief and frustration; both emotions aiming at him.

“ Where have you been?”

Flinching at your cold tone, Hoseok couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Instead, he opted to look down at the floor, in shame.

“ Did you realize what time it is?” You asked, “ When did we agree to meet?”

Once again, you were met with absolute silence. At this time, most of the stores and parlours had closed with only a few lanterns available to illuminate the street.

However, unlike the calm and tranquil the cool night should bring you, you felt a wave of frustration engulf you. In the back of your mind, you thanked your abilities to heal the wounds in time. Because without it, the wound would have already reopened with how hard you were clenching your arm.

Aside from your blazing eyes and your tense grasp on your sword, Hoseok couldn’t find any other evidence of your anger. However, even without any evidence, he knew that you were letting out anything but positive energy.

“ Whatever, we’ll talk about this at a later date,” you said, drawing a shaky sigh before presenting your arm, “ Let’s go.”

Looking at your arm, Hoseok hesitantly holds onto it before letting himself be dragged by you.

The silence presented during your guys’ walk was what Hoseok had expected when he accepted your invitation. However, he also understood the reason for why such a tense sensation was presented and was not naturally there.

As you approached the palace gates, you let go of Hoseok’s hand, reaching into your sleeve to take out your hopae*. When the guard spotted your tag, he immediately opened the gate, letting you both in. Before going in, you reached over to Hoseok to entangle your hand with his, not saying anything at his surprised expression. Thankfully, Hoseok also followed the flow and didn’t comment on your actions.

During the way to the Noble Consort’s courtyard, an eunuch had run over, offering to help guide you but was answered by a denial. Instead, you took the lantern from his hands and dismissed him.

Once you both were finally in front of Hoseok’s courtyard, you finally let go of his hand. Hoseok, who was about to bow to you, stopped when he saw you reach into your sleeve, seemingly looking for something.

Unlatching the rope that had secured the box, you quickly took out the norigae that you previously brought. Throwing it over to Hoseok’s direction, you turned around and began to walk to your courtyard, not looking at his reaction.

“ A souvenir from me. If it’s not to your fancy, throw it away.”

Hastily catching the item that you had disposed into his hands, he confusingly looked at it before realizing what it was. Grazing over the norigae fondly, Hoseok carefully untangled the knots. Grasping the ornament tightly, he felt his lips turn upward at your gestures. Bringing it close to his chest, he looked at your disappearing figure, attentively.

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

Within the next month of the announcement, news of the arrival of the new consorts began to enter the palace, and eventually, reaching the court. The ministers and officials were overjoyed at the news, happy that they were still sending over the candidates despite your announcement.

Unlike others who were happy about the consorts’ arrival, Taehyung was still soured over the news, as well as your choice.

Despite Taehyung’s obvious disapproval, it was customary for you to at least spend a night with each consort in the first week, especially if they were from a different country.

On your first night of the three, you met your first choice from the piles of possible candidates.

Sato Chungho, was a righteous man who had an outstanding record and an ambition in politics. He was so intrigued by it that you had spent the entire night talking about the subject.

“ Politics, you say?” You asked curiously as you propped your chin on your hand.

Chungho enthusiastically nodded, eyes trained on your every movement. “ Yes, your majesty.”

You hummed, “ Why are you suddenly bringing this up?”

Looking down at his hands, Chungho fidgets with the fabric of his attire. “ I had heard that your majesty is well versed in this field. Since I have met you, I … I knew that love would never be able to blossom between the two of u—”

“ Why would you say that?” You interrupted, eyes peering down at him in interest.

“ You might not know this, your majesty but you have been a very popular topic in Shihoma. Previously, we all had known about how terrible the Corea’s monarch was but since your arrival, everyone couldn’t help but be intrigued by how you managed to take him down. More importantly, the way you handled this Consort Selection both showcases your dominance and how you’re not afraid to flaunt it. Many would have to think twice about doing this, especially for a country that has yet to establish a good reputation.”

“ Then wouldn’t my actions be considered to be reckless. If you think about it, won’t it be easy for other countries to fight ours since it’s so vulnerable right now?”

Chungho shakes his head, “ It would be unlikely because most people know that most of the soldiers had gone to your side before and during the rebellion. You didn’t lose that many soldiers so attacking you is not a minor matter.”

Raising your eyebrows at his answer, you nodded your head. “ Then what would you like?”

“ I would like…” Chungho gulped, “ to learn more about politics under you.”

A potential.

Cracking a smile at his uncertainty, you stand up from your seat. Waving your hands to signal him to come over, you invited, “ Come. Play a game of go with me.”

With that, Chungho giddily accepted your invitation and both of you found yourself spending the entire night indulged in all the games you had available.

On the second night, things turned out to be more interesting with the second consort.

“ Chin-Hae means the truth and a vast ocean, correct?” You had asked.

“ Yes, your majesty.”

“ And you’re a son of a merchant?”

“ Yes, your majesty.”

Scanning at him from top to the bottom, and bottom to top, you couldn’t decipher the unsettled feeling that is blooming within your chest. You have been caught up in many situations where there is a sense of familiarity despite being strangers. And this is one of those situations.

“ You look familiar.”

“ I am afraid that we have never meet until today,” he said, “ However, you might have find my demeanour similar to some of the envoys that are currently residing in the palace.”

“ … you’re from Xin May yet you behave like the Ecenyths, you must have travelled quite a bit.”

“ As a merchant’s child, I have started travelling since I could even remember. However, I did spent a reasonable amount of time in Ecenyth.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “ Tell me the stories of the land you have visited.”

“ Where would you like to hear first, your majesty?”

“ … Xin May,” you decided, “ Tell me the culture, people, myths, legends. Anything of interest to your home country.”

Chin-Hae smiled, “ Yes, your majesty.”

As a result, you spent the entire night listening to the various stories from Chin-Hae; from the land’s culture to personal experiences and connection, Chin-Hae had told it in such an interesting manner that it captivated you every step of the way. He truly is a merchant.

I wonder if Seokjin is also good at storytelling.

On the third and final night, you were beyond exhausted with being deprived of sleep for two days straight and the constant piles that were presented on your desk. Thus, you didn’t have as much energy as usual and hoped that today will be like the other two.

Turns out, the third time was really the charm since it was completely different from the rest.

Entering your bedroom, you wanted nothing more than to fall onto the bed and travel to dreamland. Feet dragging your slouched body to the familiarity of your bed, you were suddenly hit with the realization of the slight change in the room’s placement.

Sobering up at the thought of an intrusion, you glared at every change in your normally simple chamber, feeling the irritation in you double. Aside from the difference in decor, the usual scent of lavender that would caress your skin was replaced with an overpowering scent of perfume. Feeling a headache reappearing, you sluggishly walked towards your bed only to be met with a big clump covered by a thin, transparent fabric.

The person must have noticed your speechless demeanour when they let out soft, high-pitched giggles. Normally, you would have define the noise as angelic but with your non-sobered state, fondness was not on top of the list.

Harshly grabbing the fabric, you forcefully tugged it off the figure and threw it to the floor. Looking into the bright yet hazy black orbs, you find yourself not knowing what to do.

“ Greetings to your majesty.”

Squinting your eyes in an attempt to find familiarity in the person in front to you but unable to do so, you find yourself speechless of what to say nor do. Suddenly, you realized that he was the one who you have chosen randomly, a person that you didn’t even bother knowing the name of.

Turning the other way, guiltily, you refused to look into the person’s eye, ashamed as what you did that day. However, the person seated on your bed took your action as an attempt to distance yourself away from him. As a result, he sneakily reach out his hand to touch your clenched ones.

Shivering at the chilling skin that had enveloped into your warmer ones, you looked at him, waiting to see what he would do.

As if knowing what you were hinting, the person took the opportunity to pull you to him, successfully setting you seated next to him.

Taking a deep breath, you could define the different fragrances that he was using.

Rose, with a light note of chamomile, citrus, lavender? No, what is it?

Confused at what you were smelling, you didn’t notice the roaming hands that were venturing your body until it travelled to your thigh. In a moment of panic, you pushed him away from you, shocking him in the process.

“ You… what’s your name?”

Yet to recover from the sudden shove, the male hastily replied, “ P-park Jimin, your majesty.”

Awkwardly nodding at his answer, you make sure to raise your hands, signalling that you meant no harm. “ I apologize, Jimin-ssi. There was so much work that I seemed to forget your name,” you said, shuffling away.

You knew that lying was bad in this situation but you also knew that saying that he was chosen in a matter of luck was worse. In other terms, he was lucky to be picked and wasn’t picked based on his capabilities unlike the other two.

There’s no way that I’ll tell him that.

Once again, using the opening of you drifting off, Jimin approached you, hands delicately running up your legs, eyes glimmering with mischief and flirtatiousness.

Speechless at what he was doing, you could only stare as he continued to venture across the span of your skin. Gently prying his hands off you, you push Jimin away. This time, on alert for any of his upcoming initiatives.

“ So tell me about yourself,” you said, brushing off what had just happened.

Staring at you confusingly, Jimin’s finger twitches in agitation. “ Why are you doing this?”

“ What do you mean?” You asked, scrunching up your nose.

“ Why are you asking these questions when you already know the answer?” He asked, eyes hiding behind his bangs.

“ I apologize, it seems that I have offended you. These past few days have been so busy that I haven't had the time to go over your profile yet.”

“ You didn’t even have the time to look into me?” He murmured, eyes locked on the velvet sheets.

You waved your hand in a hurry, protesting. “ Of course not. I sincerely apologize. I truly didn’t have the time to do so.”

Part of it was true while the other wasn’t being told. Yes, you have been extremely busy that you didn’t have any spare time and would go to sleep straight away after you return to your courtyard. However, you also did pick Jimin randomly, thus not having the fresh opportunity to look at his portrait.

You were really regretting your decisions of following the ministers’ miscellaneous plans.

Picking his head up, you propped them on top of your hand, directly looking into his own. Seeing his stunned expression because of your initiatives was something unexpectedly amusing; plushed lips puckered out to form a pout, a crimson shade that is spreading along the span of his cheeks, and eyes widen in such a manner that you almost couldn’t stop yourself from cooing about his cuteness.

Regretting at not seeing his painted portrait, you wonder if the artist managed to capture his beauty.

Smiling gently at your gestures, Jimin blinks continuously to try and seduce you.

Smirking at his antiques, you followed whatever he was luring you into before trapping him under your body. Arms placed on either side of him, Jimin bravely looked at you, eyebrows raised in a suggestive manner.

Lowering yourself until you were barely above him, you whispered into his ear, “ What do you think you’re doing.”

Feeling an unfamiliar sensation blooming within his core, Jimin unhurriedly replied, “ Whatever your majesty wants to do, I will follow.”

Smirking at his response, you continue to tease him by grazing your finger lightly across his skin, similar to what he had done to you. Seeing him squirm at the feeling was definitely a sight to see; amidst your teasing, you could even see a slight change in demeanour for a moment before it was covered by the previous thin layer of lust.

How interesting.

“ Oh really?”

Shivering at the moisture of your breath, Jimin couldn’t help but anticipate what was about to happen. However, his fantasize was cut short when he was no longer pinned down, the previous pressure dissipating into the air.

Pulling away from Jimin, you turned around, starting to take off your robe. “ You may stay here if you wish. We can talk about whatever but nothing related to what we just did.”

“ … So you just wanted to tease me?”

Clenching your fist at his question, you shakily replied, “ I apologize. I… I wanted to find out something.”

Jimin bit his lip, eyes glaring at your back. “ And that gives you the need to tease me? You may be my master, your majesty. But I am still a human who has feelings.”

“ … I apologize.”

“ Apologies, apologies,” Jimin huffed out, “ If you don’t want me here then I will leave.”

Standing up, Jimin takes the fabric, previously thrown to the floor and wrapped it around himself. Walking past you, Jimin didn’t look at you and instead focused on the door. Pushing the doors open, Jimin was about to leave but was suddenly pulled back.

Gasping at the pulling force, Jimin staggered backwards into your chest. “ I did say that I would let you leave but I didn’t agree to you leaving while in such a foul mood.”

Now, against your chest, you and Jimin were at the same height, none towering over the other but within your presence, Jimin found himself cowering under your watchful eyes.

“ W-what do you want now?”

“ I want to apologize to you,” you said, “ What do you want me to do?”

Turning around to look into your eyes, Jimin undoubtedly could sense your genuinity. Still trapped in your embrace, Jimin took his time to think and weigh the possible outcomes.

“ You would do whatever I say?”

“ If it’s reasonable, yes. I would do anything.”

Taking into consideration of your words, Jimin giddily thought up of various options. “ Then… give me jewelry as compensation.”

“ Jewelry? What do you want specifically?”

“ Anything that shows your favour in me. Things that would make people envy my position by your side.”

You nodded, agreeing with his terms. “ I will have something prepared for you by tomorrow and sent to your courtyard. For now…”

Looking over at your drawers, eyes sparkling up at the idea. Unlatching your arms around Jimin, you walked up to your drawers. Pulling a small drawer, you gingerly searched around before pulling a certain item out.

Returning to where you previously were, you gestured for him to turn around. You carefully placed the accessories against his skin, encasing the knot to secure the necklace in place. “ Keep this as a promise that I will fulfill my role.”

Grasping the pendant, Jimin looked over the design in awe before cracking a smile.

Seeing his smile, you commented, “ I see that you ar—“

“ Acceptable,” Jimin arrogantly said.

“ I’m glad,” you said, walking towards the table, pouring yourself a cup of tea, “ Let’s have a proper conversation now, shall we?”

Rolling his eyes at your comment, Jimin clenched the fabric wrapped around him before heading towards the table, taking a seat opposite of you.

“ Now, what can I know about you, Jimin-ssi.”

“ You don’t need to be that formal. Please call me Jimin.”

You smiled, “ Gladly.”

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

“ Now tell me about the Scavenge Disaster.”

Hastily going through the notes that he had memorized yesterday, Jungkook clumsily replied, “ The Scavenged Disaster was a breakout of droughts in the southern regions forcing many to go get refuge in other places?”

“ Continue.”

“ Mhmm.. the Sca—”

“ Say it with more confidence,” Taehyung interrupted.

Shooting him a glare, you scrunched up your eyebrows in frustration. Opening your mouth, you were about to say something when Taehyung continued to interrupt you.

“ How can you not remember the basics?” He degraded once he saw the hesitation that still lingered in Jungkook’s eyes.

Eyes widening at his words, you shouted, “ Royal Consort! Be careful with your words!”

Rolling his eyes at your word, Taehyung leaned back against his seat and focused on Jungkook, waving his hand for him to continue.

Shaking your head, you roughly slumped down into your seat, ignoring the stare that Jungkook was giving you.

Swallowing all the tension down, Jungkook went back to what he has been doing, now, even more agitated.

From the start of today’s lesson, the intensity of the air in the room was at an abnormal level. You all have noticed the change but no one put in the effort to address it.

“ When did this occur?”

“ Ten years before the previous dynasty ended.”

“ How old were you then?”

“ I was… ten at that time.”

“ I heard that you were constantly out of the palace,” you said, “ Must have been hard for you.” Nonchalantly looking down at the papers on the table, you didn’t caught Taehyung’s soured gaze.

“ Ten? You’re barely an adult now. Must have been a little brat,” Taehyung commented.

Sighing, you tiredly looked over at him, “ Brat? Look at you right now. You’re the brattiest yet.”

Taehyung scowled at your comment, “ Whatever. What has this lesson turned into? A personal bonding time for the two of you? Forget it, we’re done for today. I’m not in the mood for it.”

“ Jungkook you may go,” you dismissed him, letting out an exhausted sigh, and rubbed your tensed eyebrows. Seeing Taehyung also standing up, you were quick to confront him, “ You, dear Royal Consort, is staying until I tell you otherwise.”

Turning around, Taehyung looked at you with raised eyebrows, challenging you. “ You can’t control me.”

“ As long as I have the crown, there is nothing I can’t get my hands onto, including you.”

Huffing at your comment, Taehyung slumped down into his seat, not looking at you.

“ Why are you like this?” You asked, frustrated.

“ Why are you asking me? Ask yourself!” He yelled out, disbelief clearly adorned on his face.

“ What did I do?”

“ You took in three other consorts!”

“ I was forced to!”

“ You’re the owner of this land, no one can control you.” He said, using your comment as payback.

You chewed on your cheek at your words getting backfired. “ It's a minor problem, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“ Minor problem? Sure it is. So incredibly small that it caused chaos in the imperial court, agitating all the ministers.”

“ If you’re worried about them interrupting ou—”

“ I don’t care about the plan. What if they fancy you!” He retorted, pouting at his own words.

Eyebrows raised at Taehyung’s tantrum, you unconsciously lean back to enjoy the show.

“ You’re worried that they will gain power if they have my favour?”

“ That too,” Taehyung muttered.

“ Don’t worry. Chung-ho and Chin-Hae aren’t in the mindset of settling down,” you reassured, “ Chung-ho is too busy with his interest in politics while Chin-Hae will be travelling.”

During your guys’ little talk, you had personally promised to give Chin-Hae the privilege to exit the palace at will in return for little souvenirs that he will bring back. This may sound immature but you have plans for those items.

“ You guys are on first-name-basis now? Whatever, whatever, whatever... Then what about the third one?” He asked.

You tilted your head confusingly, not able to hear what he just said. “ What did you say?”

Taehyung looked at you, eyes piercing into your own. “ I asked about the third one. Jimin was it?”

“ Jimin?” You pulled out, chewing on your head as you remember what had happened on your guys’ first meeting. “ I don’t know.”

Taehyung pouted, “ Then there is still a possibility!”

“ If you don’t trust my words then go see for yourself.”

At your words, Taehyung turned around and walked out. “ I will.”

I will see for myself what you all have.

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

A week later, Taehyung upholds his promise by arranging an informal afternoon tea meetup with the rest of the harem. He definitely needed to see how these consorts are faring.

Seated in the middle of the round table where every person that comes and goes is in his vision field, Taehyung patiently waited for all the guests to arrive.

Slowly, the Blue Pearl garden started to get crowded by people, surrounding the table situated under the gazebo.

On his left, seated the Imperial Consort, the only consort that he, the Royal Consort has to show some face to.

It is best said that the relationship between the Imperial Consort and himself is not the best but it’s also not the worst.

We just don’t align, is what he would like to say.

Maybe in another situation, he and the Imperial Consort can find a common ground but in a harem, he is barely able to keep it under his control without the interference of another party. As a result, if’s they can’t be acquaintances then being neutrals would do.

Naturally, the farther they are to the host, the inferior their status is, meaning that when those new consorts arrive, they will be on the opposite side of him. More specifically, facing him directly on this round table.

On his right, there sat the eldest Noble Consort, who was all too busy with looking at the surrounding to spare him no mind.

I must agree to what Y/N had said. Childlike yet witty.

Perking up at another incoming group, Taehyung smiled in greeting. “ Ah, Consort Sato, welcome. Take a seat next to Noble Consort Jung.”

Bowing down in greetings, Chungho smiled at Taehyung’s words. “ Greetings to the Royal Consort, Imperial Consort Min, and Noble Consort Jung,” he said before heading towards the seat next to Hoseok’s

At least this kid knows manners.

Taehyung smiled in satisfaction, “ Good. I like you.”

“ I’m honoured to be in your favour.”

“ The Consort Yang has arrived!” The eunuch outside announced.

Turning his attention towards the entrance, Taehyung gently nodded in greetings, already not liking the person with a tacky smile.

Unlike Chungho, who was dressed in the imperial hanbok, expected of a concubine’s status; and behaved in a way much like so. Chin-Hae, instead wore the clothes of his homeland, and put on a disgustingly confident smile.

Normally, Taehyung would have overlooked this as he is also interested in ways one can express themselves through fashion but when that person is his rival, he simply can’t overlook it.

Like understanding what he was trying to convey, a maid by his side stood up. “ Consort Wang sure is unique.”

Instead of being offended, Chin-Hae beamed at her words.

Seeing his expression, Taehyung also smiled in amusement. “ Take a seat, Consort Yang.”

Interesting.

“ I heard that Xin May is a really energetic country.”

“ The epicenter for festivals and entertainment,” Taehyung piped in, casually.

“ It really is. I would say that I am forced to attend at least a dozen festivals every year. And that doesn’t even account to the ones specific to each region.”

Eyes widening in surprise, Hoseok leaned forward in curiosity. “ That must really be eventful.”

“ Sounds like you were busy.”

“ I really wasn’t. Besides, I would trade time for the smallest chance of getting to attend. Unfortunately, my father is trying to train me to inherit the business. Days fill with work and politics is too much for me to cope, however...” Chin-Hae denied, sighing at the thought of the constant work piles.

Blinking at his words, Hoseok commented, “ Right, I heard that Consort Sato is interested in politics from your majesty. Is it true?”

Looking up from his hands, Consort Sato bashfully nodded. “ I have been interested in politics since childhood but was never allowed to have any information on it.”

“ You enjoy politics? Such a unique hobby.”

Taehyung opened his mouth, preparing to say something when he was suddenly interrupted with an announcement.

“ Consort Park has arrived!”

Raising his eyebrows at the incoming figure, Taehyung propped his head on top of his hand.

Now, this is a sight to see.

Compared to the rest, Jimin’s attire was overly done. From the expensive materials that were used, to the intricate designs that were sew onto the fabric, one could definitely tell that he was born noble.

With every step, the bells of his bracelet could be heard jingling as Jimin draws closer to the gazebo. Putting on a confident smile, Jimin did a slight bow in greetings, hands clasped over his chest.

“ Consort Park certainly is prepared,” Chin-Hae commented, astonished at his attire.

“ I thank the Consort Yang for the compliment.”

Taehyung bitterly smiled at the act, feeling his slowly adrenaline rise.

“ Please take a seat, Consort Park. The sun is already in its third quarter and the event has yet to start. Without any further interrupti—”

“ Apologies, apologies, Royal Consort. I had to do some work and forgot the time. I didn’t miss out on anything major, did I?” A booming voice exclaimed, racing from the entrance to where they were.

Taehyung scowled at the familiar voice, eyes glaring at the rushed figure.

“ Merchant of the South,” Hoseok greeted.

Like who Hoseok had said, the steps of Seokjin grew closer to the gazebo, face brightened up at the sight in front of him. Stopping meters away from the entrance, Seokjin bent down to a bow in greeting. “ Greetings to the Consorts.”

“ I was not aware that you were invited.”

“ Apologies, I immediately rushed over the moment I heard that you were holding tea time.”

You knew that you were not invited and yet…, Taehyung rolled mentally rolled his eyes before looking to the side, silently motioning for the arrangements to be done.

Nodding at his signal, the person focused on the preparations, no longer caring at the stares he was receiving.

“ Seems like you knew that you were not invited,” Yoongi straightforwardly pointed out, “ Why are you here then?”

Motioning the maid to go get another chair, Hoseok added, “ Are you here to greet the new consorts?”

“ Partially. I was getting curious at the uprising of the new trio and wanted to go see for myself.”

Unlike others, Jimin reacted at the comment by clenching his jaded fist. Staring like I’m an animal, how daring.

Looking around, Jimin noticed how no one was fazed by Seokjin’s words, secretly stunned at how nonchalantly all of them are until his eyes met with Yoongi’s. Flusteredly looking away, Jimin made a move to smooth out his attire, fidgeting with the fabric along the way.

“ Apologies, only those who have been given permission to attend can do so,” Taehyung's eyes narrowed Seokjin’s figure, “ Besides, I believe the envoy has much better things to attend to than some measly tea event.”

The merchant shook his head in disapproval, “ Attending this event is also part of my duties. The emperor has specifically ordered me to visit the consorts frequently to build a better relationship with them… Also, it had seemed that I was not the only one that came without being invited.” After that, Seokjin’s eyes automatically set its attention on the person behind the table of herbs.

The host smiled, grabbing his wooden fan on the table before flicking it open, gently oscillating it, “ Hmm?... Ah, care to answer that by yourself?”

Setting down the equipment, Namjoon unhurriedly waited for all the boiled water to drain from the pot before gently placing it on the tray. Motioning the maids to bring it, Namjoon made his way to the centre table, smiling all the way. Stopping a couple of steps behind Taehyung, Namjoon clasped his left hand over his right and bowed, “ I apologize for not greeting you, Consorts… Envoy of Ecenyth. Thanks to the Royal Consort, I have the honour of concocting all the drinks that will be served.”

Scanning up and down, Jimin observed Namjoon’s manners, picking up the Royal Consort’s obvious favour towards him. So he is on his side, or maybe… Jimin smiled at the thought which skillfully got hidden by a tea cup placed in front of him.

“ Concocting? Sounds like this will have many benefits.”

“ Of course, Noble Consort Jung. It wouldn’t be right of me to not prepare a nutritious drink,” Namjoon explained.

Hoseok only smiled but made no attempt to reach out for the cup. “ Please sit down, envoy. Why not have a cup of tea while you are here?” He offered once he realized Seokjin was still standing.

Smiling gratefully, Seokjin quietly slipped on to the seat that was just delivered.

Scanning around, Taehyung noted how not a single person had consumed the tea. “ Why aren’t you tasting it? This variety is quite fragrant and won’t be as nutritious if taken cold,” Taehyung commented, letting out a teasing smile, “ Perhaps you all are afraid that it is poisoned?”

Feeling the people around him tensed at his blunt words, Taehyung picked up his own cup before taking a sip from it, flipping it over to show he had finished it. “ See? Now, drink up.”

Sighing at Taehyung’s words, Yoongi deadpanned at how appetizing and easy it was to step into his trap. How annoying, he thought, glancing at Namjoon before staring into his own. Yoongi gracefully lifted the cup to his nasal, taking in a whiff of its scent. Placing the porcelain edge against his lips, Yoongi carefully took a sip. “ Not poisoned.”

Making eye contact with Hoseok, Yoongi subtly nodded, confirming what he previously said was true. Relying on his words, Hoseok also took a sip and smiled at the pleasant taste. “ Such a smooth taste.”

Taehyung smiled, at least we work considerably well together.

“ I’m glad that this tea has satisfied you.”

“ Move on to the next course,” Taehyung ordered, “ I hope you all haven’t ate anything today.”

At his command, the surrounding servants were put to work. Skilfully replacing the dishes placed on the tables with new ones, one can see the obvious change in style.

“ The decorations have changed,” Chin-Hae commented, looking at the sight in front of him in amazement.

Giggling at his comment, Taehyung nodded. “ Of course. Now that we are waiting on the next course, allow me to explain today's concept,” taehyung started, picking up the previous course’s cup, “ With each change in course, a new course will be bestowed based on a designated season. The previous was spring, this time will be summer, eventually becoming autumn and winter.”

Eyes sparkling at Taehyung’s voice, Jimin couldn’t help but clasp an exaggerated gesture over his petite face in awe. “ Such consideration the Royal Consort has put in.”

Taehyung nodded his head in gratitude, continuing to swing his fan back and forth.

“ Unlike spring, summer is considerably heavier so the Royal Consort has highlighted the use of fruits?” Hoseok asked.

“ Correct. Do you know the reason why?”

“ Because summer has the largest spectrum in terms of fruits.”

Snorting at his words, Taehyung said, “ Of course, envoy. However, aside from the taste, there is another factor to why I have put it here.”

“ Why?” Chungho asked, curious.

“ It’s because fresh fruits symbolises vitality, youth, abundance… and fertility,” Taehyung smiled. “Either way, isn’t it the perfect description of the Nurturing Solstice?”

Blushing at the Royal Consort’s indications, Jimin couldn't help but wonder what his life will now be like.

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

“ They were talking about the Nurturing Solstice?” You asked, “ Taehyung must have had a fun time.”

Compared to the past, the current Nurturing solstice is quite watered down. Previously, the Nurturing Solstice did not only mark the start of a new harvest season but also the start of something more humanly— something more mature.

“ Yes, the new consorts were blushing at the Royal Consort’s openness.”

“ Let him have his fun. Cooping up in the palace isn’t good for anyone,” you said, “ Right, make sure to keep an eye on the new consorts, especially Chin-Hae.”

Clenching his hands, Chin-Hwa clumsily bowed at you tonal command, “ yes, your majesty.”

Glancing at his posture from your spot, you observed how uncomposed he became. Sighing, you leaned against the window frame, gazing out of the window. “ The sky is darkening.”

“ Yes, you majesty. It is estimated that the storm will go on for at least three days.”

You hummed at his reply, “ As expected… an abrupt change is about to occur.”

Tilting his head at your sudden comment, Chin-Hwa shot you a confused glance.

Dismissing his stare, you continue to stare at the sky.

It’s just that I don’t know how though.

~MintVender ( 19/05/21 )

Definitions:

Norigae - a traditional korean accessory that is usually hung at the waist at a person. It acts as a fashion item as well as a good-luck charm to bring youth and wealth to the person.

Gayageum - a Korean board zieuter, with 12 silk strings, and 12 movable bridges. Made from paulownia wood, he zither is about 160cm(62 inches) long and 30cm(12 inches) wide.

Hopae - an identification tag that carries the bearer’s name, place of birth, status, residence during the Joseon dynasty.

65 notes · View notes

quillify-tries-to-talk · 3 years

Text

Yet Another Rewrite (Part 2)

For the thomstair appreciation week by @youngreckless ik it's over. Sorry I'm late :(

You can read part 1 here then come back and read this one.

Thomas and Alastair working things out part 2. Enjoy!

Tw: mentions of racism, bullying, abuse, colonialism

"Even our angels have mercy, Thomas." His voice was hollow now.

Despair threatened to pull him under. It wasn't worth it. Anything. He would always be like this. It was a miracle even Cordelia was able to look him in the eye without hate. He did deserve this, he thought, settling back on his bed, all the fight drained. He deserved every blow and every bruise he'd inflicted on others.

Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa

Funny that he now remembered his Latin lessons.

The bed dipped under Thomas's heavier weight, and he felt a flash of warmth when hesitant fingers crept over his skin. Too close. He was too close.

Let go, he wanted to say, but lies seemed to evade him whenever Thomas Lightwood was present. His eyes looked dark brown in the dim lighting. There were dents on his bottom lip where he must have bitten it. It took everything in him to not let his hands rise and trace the lines of his jaw.

"I remember Paris."

Alastair's eyes widened. He sat frozen, and Thomas took that as his cue to continue. "You were kind to me when I was very alone, and I am grateful." He looked up, face a bit red. "It was the first time I realized you could be kind.”

He tried not to let the last comment needle him. “It is my favorite memory of Paris as well.”

“You don’t have to say that. I know you were there with Charles.”

His jaw went tight. Not that. Anything but that. "Charles Fairchild? What about him?”

Thomas cocked his head to the side, his expression innocent. “Wouldn’t that be your best memory of Paris?”

“Exactly what are you suggesting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything." His tone indicated the exact opposite though. Cheeky little–

"I’ve seen the way you look at Charles, the way he looks at you. I’m not an idiot, Alastair, and I’m asking …” Thomas shook his head, sighing.

He was going to say it. Right here. Angel help him.

“I suppose I’m asking if you’re like me.”

There it was.

Perhaps he could salvage this conversation. He gathered his thoughts, straightened out of his slouching position.

“Thomas Lightwood,” he said. “I am nothing like you."

Thomas stared as if he'd been clubbed on the head, eyes dazed in shock again. He was shuffling from side to side, probably preparing to launch himself far, far away from him.

A bit more effort, dâdâsh, Layla said in his head, amused and exasperated.

Right. “I am nothing like you, Thomas." His breathing was faltering again, throat closing up, fighting against the vulnerability he was exposing. “Because you are one of the better people I have ever known. You have a kind nature and a heart like some knight out of legend. Brave and proud and true and strong. All of it.”

He smiled bitterly. “And all the time you have known me, I have been a terrible person. So, you see. We are nothing at all alike.”

His head snapped up, surprise etched on his features. His eyes started twinkling again. What was he doing to him? Even looking at him made Alastair want to smile.

He hadn't wanted to smile in a long, long time.

"I'm not—" Thomas broke off. "That's not what I meant."

Don't I know that, eshgham? "I know what you meant." His voice had softened. The words hung in the air for a moment. But he needed some answers of his own now. "How did you know about Charles?"

“You wouldn’t tell me what you were doing in Paris,” Thomas replied. Alastair thought he heard a note of hurt in his voice, but promptly dismissed the notion. “But you mentioned Charles, over and over again, like you got pleasure out of just saying his name. And when you came to London this summer, I saw the way you looked at him. I know what it is to have to hide the—the signs of affection.”

“Then I imagine you may have noticed I don’t look at Charles that way anymore.”

What did you just say, Carstairs? Admitting to your own failures now? Couldn't even hold on to first love?

His jaw tightened again. Get out of my head, baba. Charles. Get out, both of you.

“I suppose I did,” Thomas said. “Though for the past four months, I’ve been trying not to look at you. I told myself I hated you. But I could never really make myself. When Elias died, all I could think about was you. What you must be feeling.”

His father's name reopened the gashes on his heart. Heat sparked behind his eyelids. “I insulted your father and blackened his name. You were under no obligation to care about mine.”

“I know, but sometimes I think that it is much harder to lose someone who we are on bad terms with than it is to lose someone with whom all is well.”

“Bloody hell, Thomas. You should hate me, not be thinking about what I must be feeling—” Alastair passed a hand over his face. It came back wet with tears. He didn’t even know when that happened. He’d never had an audience for his crying before.

"But I do," said Thomas softly. His fingers ghosted higher along Alastair's wrist, making his heart skip a beat. Once, twice, three times.

Bewildered, he marvelled at the sensation such a small touch could cause.

"I'm sorry." Thomas's voice was soft, filled with guilt. His head bowed as if in prayer. "I—what you said. What happened at school." His gaze trailed over Alastair's features, and he shook his head. "I always found you beautiful. Then and now. I didn't know people hated how you looked. You're like a poem, but in human form."

"Poem," Alastair repeated numbly. If his brain had short-circuited before, it was blown to bits now. No one had ever called him that.

Charles had called him a beautiful secret. His safe haven. His comfort and best friend.

Never a poem.

"Yes." Thomas's cheeks were slowly flushing rose. Another nice contrast with his skin and hair. "Graceful. Elegant. Confident. You were always so poised and sharp. Like one of Jamie's knives. You were smart, managed to turn people over. They listened to you. Look what you did just now. I didn't know what to do. If I wanted you. Or if I wanted to be you. Remember when I followed you around school?"

Alastair's rusty throat muscles regained a bit of their ability. He wanted me? It wasn’t the best, but it was okay. Charles had wanted him. It hadn’t been too bad. Until the end. Until the horror of his actions had dawned on him. Until he realized that all his time spent with Charles had been wasted in tending to his needs, not Alastair’s. He hadn’t even known a relationship required his own needs to be taken care of. That it was a necessity.

"I remember,” he managed. “Then I met you in Paris and you’d grown up and turned into Michelangelo’s David. I thought you were beautiful. But I was still caught up with Charles—” He broke off, regret weighting his stomach. “Just another thing I’ve wasted. Your regard for me. I wasted my time and my affection on Charles. I wasted my chance with you.”

Thomas blinked. And blinked. And blinked. A pulse had started in the base of his neck, thudding against the delicate skin. Alastair raised his eyes only to find him already staring.

"Thomas?" His name tasted strange on his tongue.

"You said angels too have mercy," he said in answer. "I—I must apologize. I'll admit I didn't know how people treated your family. I have been sheltered in that regard."

"You must know where those indigo-dyed silks came from," said Alastair softly. They were from India. Ariadne had mentioned it during their little dance, the news that had trickled in. The brown-skinned, hollow-eyed servants brought in for labour by mundanes and Shadowhunters alike. "Or why England never has a shortage of adamas, but my country does."

That one was still going on. Britain liked guising their nefarious schemes behind offers of trade.

He released a sigh, shaking his head in despondence. "They never tell you. Layla and I knew because we saw it happen; we know our histories ever since we could walk and talk. And it still happens. It's more than demons and humans for us. It’s always been that way." He held one brown hand up to the light, and Thomas’s eyes followed. “This isn’t apparently how we were supposed to look. I tried changing that, and it did work for sometime but.. I hated myself even then. I hated my family and my culture and my books. Do you flinch from your own face, Thomas? I always did. Still do, sometimes.

“I hate that my skin isn’t like yours. If it was, perhaps people wouldn’t have said so many things. Perhaps I wouldn’t have as many bruises.” He leaned his head back against the wall, ignoring the tightness in his chest. “In another life, perhaps we would’ve had our chance, you and I.”

His words ended with a plaintive note; the bone-deep weariness that there was nothing he could do, aside from ripping off his own skin or trying to be like his father. In appearance, at least. They remained silent for a long while, but it was the thoughtful sort. Alastair didn't know how many hours he passed by just counting the cracks in the walls when Thomas's voice pierced the quiet.

"Teach me."

He jerked awake. "What?"

"You said there are things I don't know about you. About where you come from and what you and Cordelia have to face. And… perhaps I'd like to know. I'd like to understand how the world works." A small smile ticked up the corners of his mouth, and Alastair found himself besotted by the expression.

By the Angel. Definitely not coming out in one piece.

"You'd like to… umm…" Words had fled when he'd needed them most. Damn you, Thomas.

Thomas’s fingers enclosed over his wrists. The warmth was steadying, comforting. His expression was hesitant, at odds with the way his body commandeered space. “I want help. Really, truly. I found myself fascinated in Spain by the difference in language and culture. And then Paris. One-time travel gave me a different perspective, so imagine what more knowledge would do.” He was practically shaking with excitement at the prospect of learning of his ancestor’s atrocities. “You’ll be teaching me, so it won’t feel like a debt to you.”

“Are you sure you want to know, Thomas? People have done some terrible things.”

“I need to know what I’m redeeming myself for before I ask for forgiveness.” His hazel eyes were clear, expression determined. Like a knight readied for battle. A scholar rewriting history on pages.

Alastair felt his throat tighten at his excitement. He wasn’t used to any of this. Apologies. Forgiveness. Love. Hope. His story was supposed to have died after all his attempts to apologize to The Merry Thieves. He’d failed then to ask for friends, so why would someone give him another chance?

“And maybe you’re wrong,” Thomas added in what was supposed to be a nonchalant tone, but Alastair detected a slight tremor in it. “About me.”

“Speak sense, Lightwood.” His tone sharpened, a defense against his wrecked emotional state. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this.” In answer, Thomas hooked his hands around Alastair’s shoulders, and the sudden onslaught of warmth and gentleness made his body sway with the sheer impossibility of the situation. No glass. No manipulation. Nothing but warmth and truth and compromise. The good sort.

This had to be a dream. He would wake up any time now, but he couldn’t stop staring at him. Couldn't stop admiring his smile, the brightness of his eyes, the shape of his mouth, that damned pulse at his throat. And more. His strength. His passion for learning. His bravery in venturing after a killer alone. The openness of his heart.

I’m not worth it, Alastair wanted to say, but by then his head had fallen on his shoulder, nestled in the crook of Thomas’s neck. He felt lighter than air. For the first time, his head felt empty of anything: trouble, grief, responsibilities, duties. It was just them. Thomas with his arms around him, holding him in the storm of his life. His heartbeat was a steady clock that Alastair could time his breaths to.

With Charles it had been all heat and desire, and the furious pounding of his heart in the thrill of being wanted by someone. This felt like coming home, sitting down for a cup of tea with his favourite book. Warm and right and natural. Tears slipped down his cheeks, freed after years and years of being locked away for the sake of his family.

Thomas set his lips to Alastair’s brow.

His body seized up at the soft pressure. It felt like someone had poured sunlight into his veins. Another tear slipped down his cheek. Impossible. Wake up, now. Happiness wasn’t a part of your life. But he was still here, feeling Thomas lean his cheek against his hair. Through the swirl of emotions, he heard his voice again.

“We’ll get past this together. I will relearn you, Alastair.” The sound of his name on Thomas’s lips sent his heart careening again. “Negaran nabash.”

Don't worry. Even with the different cadence, it would’ve been hard to miss. Thomas had just spoken in Persian.

Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow. “Where did you learn that?”

“Oh. Umm. Just something…” That adorable smile surfaced again. “A little hobby? Like Kit and his test tubes?”

Shaking his head, Alastair allowed himself a little smile. Perhaps, it had been worth it to risk his neck. For this. Only for this.

Taglist: @cherilyn-rose @youngreckless @eugeniaslongsword @nott-the-best (2nd part eeeeeeee🥳🥳🥳) @cant-think-of-anything @livingformyself

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

I Would’ve Stayed (FNTO 4)

Any mess we had to deal with was way more worth it than any clarity without you.

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that!

Warnings: foul language, heavy drinking, lots of kissing, penetrative and oral sex (not too explicit; a condom is thrown in there somewhere but bbs please be safe! and also, I tried) (18+)

Word count: ~8,000

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist

A/N: Here it is! OC hates confrontation so guess what happens - that! Listen to Yours by Raiden x Chanyeol ft. LeeHi & Changmo and Moon, 12:04 AM by Offonoff.

It’s been 3 days and Jungkook still hasn’t reached out.

You would have, but somehow that time he completely ignored you for a whole week before he left still plays in your head and has made you quite traumatized, if you’re being honest.

Add to that, you recall how you both left things that day. You don’t know how he was doing in the 2 months he was away. Maybe he just got ahead of himself and realized he didn’t really feel that way about you, maybe he’s still angry. Maybe, and this scares you the most, he realized he’s better off and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore - too much crazy, you think.

None of the guys have reached out to you too since they’ve arrived aside from Jimin’s message, perhaps too sorry to even say anything.

You’ve followed the same routine you’ve had the past 2 months - cafe check-in before and after your actual job, weekends for exercise and chores and whatever work you can sneak in, and Saturday nights with your friends. You even volunteered to babysit your cousin’s kids for 2 weekends and accompanied Jaehyun to the orphanage for the bi-annual party he throws for the kids just to keep yourself preoccupied.

It feels so different without Jungkook. Even when he was away then, you were always video calling for at least a minute, and sending each other funny videos or memes to keep the connection, that string that neither of you wanted to break. How you both managed without each other these past months is surprising, but that's just made it clear to you, more than anything else, that you truly want him to be part of your life, and you, in his, in whatever way he’d have you.

But his radio silence is once again driving you insane. You keep typing then deleting whatever message you thought to send him.

You: Hey, I heard you’re back. How was the tour?

You: Hi, Kook. I’m so sorry again. I was wondering if we could catch up?

You: Omg help, my neighbor got another cat!

You: Can’t wait for the final concert! Excited to watch you guys.

But nope, you’d deleted them as fast as you’d typed them. You know you were at fault somehow; you’ve accepted that you could’ve done something like talk to him at the first sign of a problem, but you always hated confrontations and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that with him.

More than anything, though, you want him to be the one to reach out this time. Not just because he said those hurtful things to you before he left, but also because you want to know if he still feels whatever it was he said he feels - or felt - for you before he left.

You let your mind make up reasons. Maybe he’s still tired. Maybe he’s still catching up on sleep and isn’t in his right mind yet to talk to you. Maybe they got caught up with more work when they got back. All these maybes are sending you in a whirlwind of emotions again, and you’re trying so badly to get out of your head and just settle things once and for all.

It’s finally Friday and you’re zoning out at work before your phone’s incessant ringing breaks through your thoughts.

Jieun is on the other line, convincing you to go to The Third tonight because a DJ friend of hers is spinning. She misses you, she says. You don’t have the heart to tell her that you don’t feel like going out and being around people, but she pleads. The guys will be there too, she excitedly shares. She charmed her way into having them accept her invite after they’d met up at a dinner party earlier in the week.

“Dinner party?” You ask.

“Yeah, remember Yoonah? I wrote some music for her. She had a birthday party last Tuesday,” Jieun innocently says.

Of course you remember. She’s one of the pop stars that Jungkook has been linked with countless times. He never dismisses it though when you’d ask. He just always says they’re close and enjoy spending time together when they can.

You feel your heart break a little, thinking of what his appearance at her birthday party could mean. You’d done yourself a favor and stayed away from social media so you don’t know if there are new pictures of them circulating in the web.

But you do like to torture yourself. As Jieun went on about her schedule for the rest of her stay, you checked online for any photos of the two to ease - or worsen - your panicking brain and speeding heart.

Yep, there they are. Some public photos of them laughing at the party, Yoonah so stunning in her red dress and Jungkook looking incredibly gorgeous in his dark blue suit. You scroll further down to look at the same photos and people screaming at how good they look together and wait, are those photos outside of a cafe?

Eyes wide, your heart quickens even more as you type “Jungkook Yoonah cafe” on the search bar because really, you’d been torturing yourself these past months too, why stop now?

They seem like unofficial photos, judging from the quality, but you can’t be mistaken that it’s him - you know that sweatshirt because it’s yours; the few clear photos show the clay mark on the left side of the clothing that you haven’t been able to remove. What kind of jerk wears another girl’s clothes when he’s out on a date with another?

You’re fuming. So much for making excuses on his behalf that he’s tired or busy. Well, he was busy, alright. You saw in the news that Yoonah was in the U.S. too for some photo shoots; some tweets were saying she was at one of the shows. Guess Jungkook was preoccupied in those 2 months too, you think to yourself.

“Y/N, you in there?” Jieun asks on the other end.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. What were you saying?”

“I said a lot… but I just wanted to know if you’re game for tonight?” She asks, excitement laced in her voice. It has been awhile since you’ve gone out to party with her anyway.

“Sure, I’ll be there.” You force the excitement out of you.

“Great! Tell your friends. Can’t wait to see you!” She hangs up, and you’re still fuming.

Fuck to feeling sorry for yourself. Fuck to being a responsible adult. And fuck to saying no to hook-ups. You were never one for drinking her problems away and finding a temporary fix in another’s body and the pleasure they could give but that’s exactly what you’re gonna do tonight.

Jungkook has made you do and feel things you’d never done or felt before anyway, and you aren’t gonna stop now.

You wait until 6PM before heading home and fixing up. You and your friends go to a nice restaurant for dinner, a change of scenery from your usual Saturday night take outs, before finally heading to The Third for a night you hopefully won’t regret.

You and your friends arrive at the bar at 10PM, Jaehyun the designated caretaker of everybody (more like of you, though, since you’re the only one with a plan).

You do the mandatory socializing, especially with Jiuen, and before you know it, you’re on your 5th shot of tequila, sips of other people’s beer or cocktail in between, and suddenly, a hand is pulling at yours and an unfamiliar voice is asking you to dance.

He’s funny and has well-manicured and soft hands. You can’t tell the color of his eyes or the shape of his nose or if he has plump or thin or chapped lips. He seems to have nice hair, though.

He says he’s a little awkward but he was beside you at the bar and heard you laughing and thought it was the nicest sounding laugh he’s ever heard. He apologizes for sounding sappy and a creep, but he thought he could at least ask you to dance, confident in at least that since he used to dance in college.

He asks if he could put his hand on your waist and you consent. There were no red flags, and you’d seen your friends give you a thumbs up to indicate they’re looking out for you in case something unsuspecting happens.

Something unsuspecting happens, alright. One minute the man’s hand is on your waist, fingers gripping you a little tighter as the song transitions to the next one, and another it’s gone. You turn around to make sure he’s still there but lo and behold, there stands the man you’ve been trying to get your mind off, hand on the other man’s wrist, and a glare that could cut through stone.

“I’ve got her,” the man says, voice cold and stern, it gave you chills.

It takes a while before it registers. Hair parted at the middle, black polo, black leather jacket. Even under these party lights he still looks breathtaking. You scowl at Jungkook.

“What the fuck, Jeon. I was dancing with Ye-jun!”

“It’s, uh, Yu-jun,” you hear the man say. Was he now stuttering?

“You’re drunk,” Jungkook responds, tone steady, head now turned to you.

“So? I’ve been drunk many times before. It’s nothing new,” you snap back.

“Yes, but you don’t do this,” he says, voice calm and patient.

“And what’s this? Enjoy myself? Find a man to dance with, to go home with? Maybe to hook up with?” You bite back, arms crossed, a little less drunk now that you feel anger consume you. You don’t see the surprised but intrigued look of the man staring at you, but Jungkook does and it takes all of him not to smack the guy’s face right then and there.

But really, how dare he? He ghosts you again and now he decides to show up and crash your little dance party?

Jungkook lets out a low grunt. He turns to the man, jaw clenched, eyes piercing. “Seriously, I’ve got this. You can leave us now.” He continues to stare at the man who knows he’s got nothing on Jungkook.

“Well fuck me,” the man says and walks away.

Jungkook grabs your wrist to take you to the bar, forcing you to drink 2 glasses of water.

“What the hell was that?” You shout. Jungkook eyes the bartender, as if to tell him to give both of you as much privacy as he can in a venue like this.

“You’re drunk and the guy was trying it with you,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“He actually had the decency to ask if he could put his hand on my waist, seeing that I was drunk!” You shout back.

He rests his right arm on the bar and looks at you blankly. “You’re still drunk and he’s still a stranger.”

At this, you completely lose it. “And you aren’t? What are you now, my friend? My fuck buddy I don’t fuck? My almost lover? The guy I can never have? The guy who’s too afraid to have me?”

You eye the bartender nearby preparing 2 shots of tequila. You walk the short distance towards him and down both shots, one after the other. “Make him pay for them,” you shout to the man, pointing to Jungkook, and you walk away.

Seven shots of tequila in and you’re quite the mess, physically and emotionally. Why you think it felt cathartic to down those shots is beyond you; now your head is spinning and your feet feel like death.

You see the light at the end of the tunnel, an empty chair a few steps away. You make it, thankfully, without much fanfare. You look around for your friends but it’s all dancing silhouettes and unfamiliar faces. The lights are now blinding and suddenly it feels stuffy that it’s hard to breathe. You drag your arms to the table and drop your head onto them, slowly succumbing to sleep.

A voice wakes you, repeating your name countless times until you start to resent it. You lazily look up to find Jungkook, crouching down to level with you, holding a plate of chocolate cake and a pitcher of water.

You look at what he’s holding before your glossy eyes rest at his face. He sighs, puts the pitcher on the table, and proceeds to take the fork and feed you with bites of the cake.

You drink water in between, and after 3 mouthfuls, you look up at him and flash your teeth, as if to ask if there’s some chocolate leftovers on them. He lets out a short laugh and removes a crumb hanging on the corner of your lips. “All good,” he says.

“Take me home, Jungkook.” You plead. “Please take me home.”

Jungkook doesn’t know why he suddenly got scared. He’d made up his mind that he would message you when they’d landed, drive to your place to see you, and talk things out the next day, but his mind had other plans.

He got so caught up at the thought that he’s finally home, finally breathing the same air as you, that you were just 30 minutes away from him - so near yet so far - that he’d zoned out and completely forgotten to message you. He was so anxious about finally talking to you that he’d ended up falling asleep at 5AM and slept through the rest of Monday afternoon.

They had a scheduled meeting on Tuesday and had Yoonah’s dinner party that night, and he had wanted to message and see you on the same day because he was that impatient.

The dinner party wasn’t a big event, but photos from her agencies were soon released that obviously included Jungkook and Yoonah laughing and talking. He knew what was about to happen next. What he didn’t expect was Yoonah’s pleas that night to go out the next day for their routine stunt that they’d do every once in a while.

Jungkook and Yoonah went to the same middle school and high school in Seoul, both trying to balance education with their responsibilities in their respective idol groups. They ended up being close and confiding in each other, but never went the dating route. They were both so young then and happiness, at that time, equated to success in their field. It’s later on that they’d come to realize how lonely that would feel.

Jungkook had his hyungs and felt content; Yoonah, who eventually went solo, felt the loneliness eat her up. She’d been dating a friend from her childhood and she knew the only way they could stay together is if their relationship was kept a secret.

She’d enlisted the help of Jungkook who’d willingly agreed to be her decoy when needed - anytime the media or even fans would catch wind of Yoonah’s relationship, it was automatic for the pair to be seen going out. They never admitted nor denied the rumors. It was enough to throw the scent off the real man she was dating.

He agreed that Wednesday for a quick lunch out at a cafe. No need for overkill, they agreed. As long as they’re seen together, that should be enough. Jungkook didn’t have the heart to turn her down and instead, kept mum about his own relationship trials with you. He knew that whatever photos that fans would take would be all over social media, and he could only hope you stayed away from it long enough until the issue died down.

This was another dent in his plan and he had to regroup. Another day has passed and he still hasn’t reached out to you. He was beginning to think it was a stupid idea to wait it out in the first place.

He entered the bar that Friday night, half sure that he was going to see you. Jieun has been away a while and would definitely want you there.

It didn’t take long for him to spot you. He was half expecting you’d be dancing with your friends or laughing about in one of the tables.

He didn’t expect you to be dancing so closely to another man, his hand on your waist, his mouth so dangerously close to your ears. You looked like you were having fun, what with your half-lidded eyes and teeth constantly biting on your bottom lip. He’d never seen that look on you before, and it scared the shit out of him.

He saw your friends who confirmed the man is someone you’d just met and that you’d gone on about getting shit-faced drunk and hooking up with someone because “Jungkook’s being a jerk right now.”

“Please grow up, you two, and talk things out,” Chaewon shouted at him, tired and exasperated in dealing with your whiny ass, before she stormed off to shout at her boyfriend. Jaehyun went on about their lover’s quarrel, and Hyejin had discovered the allure and deceit of cranberry vodka and had been puking her guts out in the washroom.

“Please look out for her,” Jaehyun told Jungkook. What your friends didn’t tell him is why you’re acting this way. Was it the radio silence? The photos you might’ve seen? Or both?

That’s when Jungkook proceeded to shoo the man away. Of course you wouldn’t go without a fight. From the dance floor to the bar, you had a go at it. He deserved all that, he was sure, even if he was angry at the situation as well.

It took another pep talk from his hyungs - who were watching you from afar, as you laid your head on the table, and making sure no one would try with you again - convincing him to swallow his pride and just talk to you.

He hated seeing you like this, moreso since it’s the first time in 2 months he’s seeing you, and considering how things have been during the time you two were apart.

The sweets and water combo always works. Two washroom trips later, you were on the passenger seat of his car, fetus-laden and drifting in and out of sleep.

Jungkook is frustrated. How bad had things gotten that you were willing to hook up with some stranger at the bar? What were you thinking? Why didn’t you reach out this time? He was just making excuses again but regardless, he looks at you, a snort escaping your mouth as you catch yourself snoring, and thinks you’re still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

You wake up underneath two thick blankets and a mountain of pillows surrounding you.

Clawing out of your fort-like surrounding, you see a glass of water and aspirin on your bedside table. You sigh and try to recall the night before.

You were lucid at some parts. You recall the guy with the soft hands, both of you dancing so close together, his whispers of sweet nothings on your ear. You remember a bit about your little outburst at Jungkook at the bar, the chocolate cake, vomiting your insides in the toilet, and climbing to your bed.

You force your eyes shut, trying to remember more. Your throat hurts, the kind that isn’t just from alcohol. You feel the crusty bits on your eyes, at both corners and on the sides.

You cried. You were probably shouting too. What the fuck were you going on about last night?

And then it hits you. Jungkook was there. He totally cockblocked you. But he also fed you cake and probably took you home. Now you remember a bit of his calloused hands drawing circles on your back as you tried to puke all the alcohol out of your system. He probably helped you brush your teeth too, you conclude, seeing as your mouth doesn’t feel extra disgusting this morning.

“What else, what else?” You think aloud. But your mind draws out blank. Knowing yourself though, and the anger and hurt that built up inside you before you stepped foot in that bar, was enough to let you know that you probably gave him shit, for what, you’re not sure.

You decide it’s time to get the gunk off your body so you get off the bed, pop the aspirin, and head out your room.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee is what welcomes you as you open the door.

You stand by the kitchen, looking for signs of the other person with you until you see the blanket on your couch and a familiar-looking black leather jacket lying at its back.

The bathroom door opens, revealing a freshly washed Jungkook, clad in a white shirt and boxers, clothes of his that you know he got from the second drawer on your dresser.

He pauses on his steps and stares at you. “You’re awake,” he says.

“And you’re here,” you reply, a bit of irritation laced in your voice.

You both stare at each other for a couple more seconds, not sure how to proceed. This is new territory for you.

Your mornings were never like this. They were always full of lazy greetings, games of rock-paper-scissors on who would get up first to brew coffee, soft singing in the kitchen, laughter.

“You uh, got drunk,” he starts, hand scratching the back of his neck, which he usually does when he’s nervous or shy.

“You uh, cockblocked me last night,” you deadpanned.

Jungkook stays put where he is, face faltering a little bit. “Were you really planning on hooking up with that guy?” He asks.

“I don’t know, maybe,” you say. You were so close, though, even if you knew you wouldn’t. Part of you is thankful that Jungkook made sure that didn’t happen but no, you can’t fall for this so easily.

He continues to look at you, eyes blinking constantly, teeth biting onto his lower lip, you’re afraid it’d start to bleed. Why is he so nervous?

“For goodness’ sake, Jungkook! I wanted to hook up with him, or anyone for that matter, because I’m fucking pissed at you! And if you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been doing things I don’t normally do because you’re messing me up!” You shout at him.

You’re closer to him now, and you can clearly see the flushed look on his face. He can’t focus on you, he’s biting his lip even harder and looking down on his feet. In the silence, you both try to find your own words to express the emotions that have been eating you up inside.

“I’m…” you start gesticulating, trying to find more words to express all the anger and pain and frustration you’re feeling.

And then your stomach grumbles, really loud, and it’s the mood killer you didn’t need.

“I’m fucking hungry,” you whimper, head falling on your hands as you make that sound of a cry that borders on a laugh. You look and sound utterly ridiculous right now. You’re losing your resolve, and you’re slowly cracking in front of the man you’re angry at.

Jungkook suppresses a small laugh. “I hate you,” you say, your tone not matching your words.

“You said that last night too,” he says, looking up at you.

“I probably meant it. I still do,” you respond, meeting his eyes.

“I know. But I said last night we’ll talk about it today. That shut you up.”

You laugh to yourself, imagining how you probably looked, drunkenly shouting at him last night. You tell yourself you’ve got to face this now, no more excuses.

“Good, because we’ve got months’ worth of shit to talk about,” you say, as you head for the bathroom.

“Bacon or sausage?” He calls out before you close the door. “Bacon!” You respond immediately.

Jungkook puts his utensils down and stops eating.

“I’m not gonna lie, Y/N, you’re scaring the shit out of me.”

You continue to glare at him, as if to say that making you breakfast doesn’t mean he’s off the hook.

“Seriously, your nose is flaring, you’re looking at me like you want to rip me into pieces…” he peers at your hands, knuckles white at how hard you’re gripping the fork and knife. “You look like you want to stab me for real this time…” he trails.

You grit your teeth and scowl at him. If looks could kill he’d be dead by now. He responds with a smile, the kind one would have if they want to get out of something.

“You’re not funny,” you deadpan.

“I wasn’t trying to be!”

You cross your arms, anger still painting your face.

“Okay, Y/N, let’s calm down and talk this out like mature individuals,” he continues, arms up as if he’s trying to tame an animal. This pisses you off even more.

You feel tears form in the corner of your eyes out of anger. “Yes, because ghosting me the second time around is soooo mature,” you shout.

You drop what you’re holding, push your chair backwards, and turn away to walk the very short distance to the living room. You let out a loud groan.

He runs to you, now even more worried than before. He stops in his tracks when he sees your shoulders start to shake. He’s really outdone himself this time, he thinks. What a way to try and “fix” things, he scolds himself.

“I’m sorry, I’m doing this all wrong.”

“You think?!” You shout, now facing him, tears already trailing down your cheeks. The look on his face, that of sadness, guilt, of regret, pierces through you like a knife, the same way the look of pain and dejection on yours cuts through him, rendering him speechless. He’d never seen you this hurt, this angry, this tired.

“You ignored me for a whole week. I went to your house to see you but you just…” you exhale. You couldn’t even say the words because just thinking about that day hurts you so much, something you realized you hadn’t really gotten over. The realization and the guilt you felt were enough to ease that pain but the recent radio silence from him only served to resurface those feelings.

“And you come back and what, nothing again from you?”

Jungkook stares at you, trying to name the emotions written on your face. There’s too much of everything he sees and it causes anger to course through him at what he’s done and what this could mean. So he does what he usually does when he’s hurt and scared - he deflects.

“Why didn’t you call?” He starts, earning him a scoff from you. “I confessed my feelings that day but you didn’t say anything; you just got angry that I was leaving and when I was away, all I got was a text for an apology,” he continues, jaw tight at how he’s trying not to cry.

You stare at him, wide-eyed. You did greet him on his birthday, but you opted to let him speak.

“I come home after 2 months and I don’t hear from you and I see you at a bar dancing with some guy. What was I supposed to do?” He grits his teeth. He knows he’ll break, he’s just trying to hold out as long as he can.

“You call that confessing? You barely gave me anything that day, Jungkook! We always talked about things but you drop that bomb on me from out of nowhere!” You stomp towards him, motioning him to look at you.

“We had such a good time before that. That trip, that morning… and then you ignore me a whole week and then you leave.”

“I…” Jungkook stammers. He always knew he handled that whole situation terribly. He didn’t give you time, he didn’t give you an option.

“I torture myself by replaying that weekend because I can’t help but think that might be the last time I’ll ever get to have you like that,” you mewl.

This is when he breaks, he thinks.

He takes in a long breath.

“I woke up before you that morning and you just looked… so beautiful, so peaceful, and I just wanted to get used to that, you know?” He sighs, forlorn eyes focused on the floor as if he’s watching the scene he’s committed to his mind play out before him.

“I didn’t think much of it before, just that I wanted to be with you all the time and when I was, I wanted to stay a bit longer, or the night. And when I did I just wanted to sleep next to you and have you close to me until the next morning… and the morning after that. And I just wanted so badly for you to feel the same way.” He covers his face with his hands.

“But you… you thanked me for being a great friend and I guess hearing it like that, confirming that I’m just that to you, broke my heart because right then I thought…” he looks straight at you with his glossy doe eyes and suddenly you forget how to breathe. “I thought that I wanted so much more.”

You blink at him once, twice, a couple more times. He’d only implied he had felt something but this… this isn’t what you were expecting.

“I avoided you because I didn’t know how to talk to you without feeling sad and angry,” he explains.

“You still could’ve said something! You were the one who was being selfish and unfair, not me. You kept that all to yourself and didn’t give me a chance to tell you how I felt.”

He lets out a small laugh, sounding resigned. “You made it clear that day of what I was to you. I mean, with the amount of time we spend together, with how close we are? For fuck’s sake, Y/N, we kiss and sleep next to each other and even after all that, I’m just a friend? What more did we - did I - have to do for it to be more?”

“You could’ve told me, Jungkook. You could’ve told me because I would’ve told you that I felt the same way.”

He looks at you, a pained expression on his face.

“Then why say that, huh?” he turns away from you, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He should be happy but somehow he’s upset - at himself or you, he’s unsure. “Why do all of those and keep me at a distance like that?”

“Because I didn’t want to feel that way for you! I couldn’t.”

“Why not?

“Because I was scared.”

“Bullshit.”

“I know it’s a crap excuse for anything but it’s how I felt. Because I knew, long ago, that you’re the one who wouldn’t want anything more. All those PR stunts? The women you’d casually dated? I got your memo, Jungkook. Any feeling or thought I had of us being anything more disintegrated the moment you said that you had too much crazy going on to even deal with relationships… and I let it.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“This is really how you want to play this, Jungkook? Why didn’t I do this? Why didn’t I say that? I always do, okay? I call, I ask you over, I kiss you, I ask you to stay. And you always do exactly those, just those. Nothing more, never anything more. What would saying it do?”

Jungkook looks defeated. He understands you, more than you think he does.

That night when he’d gone to your apartment after your ex showed up - when he’d ditched drinks with the guys to help Seokjin take his mind off the girl he’d lost because he gave what he only could and it wasn’t enough until someone else could give more - seems to be as vivid to you as it was for him.

Going to you was reflex for him, especially after he’d heard your sniffles over the phone. Seeing you cry pained him even more. He’d cursed Jinyoung internally multiple times; how someone could be scared of someone as beautiful as you was beyond him.

That night felt like he saw you for the first time - your strength, your passion for life, your desire to be a better version of yourself. He’d enjoyed your musings about the innate goodness of people and the human’s incredible ability to love, hurt, heal, and love again. Even your thoughts on fate and destiny that were contrary to his had caused him to question more, think deeper, live more ardently.

Beneath those puffy eyes and shivering body, there was no sign of insecurity. You were just so sure of yourself, so free, so unapologetic, and he wanted to bask in your radiance, in your glow; he wanted front-row seats to the unravelling of you.

And he didn’t feel like he could be enough. Between his responsibilities, his restrictions, his commitments because of his own dreams and the life that he chose, he just knew that he would always fall short and he would lose you. And that frightened him more than anything.

So Jungkook did what he always does when he’s hurt and scared - he deflected. He said there was too much going on in his life - that’s why he can’t try, why he can’t commit, why he can’t want more, because he can’t be more, at least not what he wants to be for you.

He never finished that sentence though, felt like it would be final if he said the words. Looks like you convinced yourself of these thoughts of his for you, he concludes. And he sees it now. He was just as scared as you. Probably still are.

“I would’ve stayed, you know?” You break him out of the internal monologue he’d immersed himself in.

“I walk away when things don’t work out but I realized that I would have stayed. Whether it was I who felt differently and you didn't, or you did and I didn't… I would’ve stuck around.” You look at him, eyes now devoid of all the anger you were feeling not long ago.

“I was angry and sad because of you but you were the one I wanted to call about it,” you continue. “God, it felt stupid but that’s when I realized it, you know? I wanted to be with you. Any mess we had to deal with was way more worth it than any clarity without you.”

It’s all Jungkook needs to hear.

He marches over to you, two strides are what it takes until he’s palming your cheeks and softly resting his lips onto yours, waiting, wanting, for you to meet him halfway.

And you do.

You push yours onto his, tasting those saccharine chapped lips, causing your body to relax at how right this feels. The kiss is gentle, similar to the ones you’ve shared before, but different in what this means, different in what it is trying to say.

He pulls back and you feel hazy, like you’d just been woken up from a dream right when you were about to get to the good part.

He looks at you so tenderly, like if his eyes could sigh a relief they would. He’s thumbing your cheeks repeatedly, searching your misty eyes as if there are still questions he needs answered.

“Why did you want to kiss me? That first time. Why?” His tone is rushed, desperate.

“Because I wanted to know if I still felt it, whatever it was I felt before, I wanted to know if I still felt it.”

“And did you feel it then, and every time we did it?”

You close your eyes, causing the tears that have now accumulated to fall from your eyes. “Yes, Jungkook. Always.”

He thumbs the tears away as they fall down one by one. He looks at you as internally, he’s gathering the feelings of the past months - the anger, desolation, the regret - readying himself to let it all go, he just needs to hear you say it, whatever it is. He needs to know that you felt everything he felt.

“What did you feel just now?”

“Like I want more, Jungkook. I want more,” and you open your eyes to meet his satisfied ones, both of your breaths hitching at how you’re feeling a flurry of emotions that you can’t tame.

Jungkook pulls your face towards his once again, meeting your tear-stained lips; this time he presses harder, slightly parting his mouth and you angle your face for better access. You feel like that moment when two puzzle pieces finally fit together, when they finally find their way, like two lost souls following the north star to find each other.

He continues his motions, coaxing you to go harder just as he is, and you do. He licks onto your bottom lip, seeking entrance, and with your parted mouth, you revel in the way both of yours meld onto each other so perfectly, so fluidly like they’re meant to do this, like your lips are meant to fuse together like this. And it sets you on fire.

Your hands, which were only lightly touching his bent elbows as his palms continue to stroke your face, are now gliding on his arms, feeling the veins and ridges that dent his limbs. They proceed to graze over his hands, sending shivers down your spine as you imagine all the things those hands could do to you. You do this repeatedly, sensually, making Jungkook hungrier, needier.

You’re so lost in the feeling of him this close to you, like one of your drives where the windows are down and the wind is blowing and you feel unanchored, flowing, light, like you any time you can fly away.

His hands trail south, caressing your sides until they find purchase on your waist, grip tightening as his mouth continues its attack on yours, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. This time he wins, as a slight tip of his head gives him an advantage and he’s going deeper. You moan onto his mouth, hands pulling on his hair by the nape of his neck, as they have now found refuge there.

Push and pull you both go, from twirling your tongues and taking turns nibbling on each other’s lips. Your right hand slides down from his neck to his chest, and as you thumb his hard nipple that you feel through his shirt, he bucks his hip and you feel the dent on his crotch that causes adrenaline to surge through you.

You clutch on his shirt, eager to get it off. You’re desperate as you feel heat rise to your chest, as if it’s about to explode. Your senses are overloaded right now, making you lightheaded, intoxicated, a dampness in your core accumulating as your hips meet his, seeking friction to quench the intense thirst of your body to feel his own.

You pull away this time, feeling like your head will explode from the sensory overload - the strong and fresh scent of the white musk body wash, the sweet taste of coffee on his mouth, the erotic sounds of your heavy breathing and moans, the tingling feeling of his fingertips on your arms, and the sight of him on top of you.

Eyes wide filled with worry that he might’ve done something wrong, Jungkook asks, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” you let out a few continuous breaths, “I couldn’t breathe,” you continue, a short laugh escaping your lips.

He chuckles. “I’m sorry, I got carried away.” He chews on his bottom lip. “I just didn’t think I’d hear you say that.”

“That I want you?”

He nods shyly, suddenly very different from the man who’d just tried to swallow you whole.

“I do, Jungkook. What about you?”

Now it’s your turn to have a worried look in your eyes, nervous about what will happen next.

“I want everything with you, Y/N. I want this,” he pulls you back to him and rests his forehead on yours, “I want all of this.”

You close your eyes as he does, tips of your noses touching, breaths hot on each other’s skin. A smile forms on your lips as he kisses your cheek, left and right, then your jaw, and then your neck. He takes his time there, teeth nibbling on the flesh, tongue soothing the sting.

He licks a strip up until his tongue lands on a sensitive area below your ear. He grazes his teeth on your skin and your senses come alive again. “Mhmm, Jungkook,” you moan.

He smiles onto the spot, his breath causing that dampness on your core to pool once again. “You like that, babe?”

You laugh at the pet name, choosing instead to hide the overwhelming desire you feel to hear his low and raspy voice call you that everyday.

“I hate you,” you tell him, head leaning on his shoulder. This one has no bite, though. And he knows this, but he plays along.

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

The intoxicating feeling comes back, this time from just the mere insinuation of what he’ll do to you.

You nod and take his hand to lead him to your room. He follows, head in a daze because he didn’t think he could ever be with you like this. All the times you’d both walked to your room, you were drunk or tired or sleepy; you’d carefully lie on your sides of the bed, talk and laugh until you fall asleep. Just the thought of how different it’s going to be this time is making him feel dizzy.

He watches you walk towards your bed and as you stand there, turning to him, with the rays of the sun finding their way through your blinds and casting a heavenly glow on your silhouette, he thanks all the gods and the cosmos for planning this one out for him.

You look at him tenderly and his heart, which has been beating so rapidly since you’d woken up, steadies its beats. He feels the entire weight of the world, which he’d placed on his shoulders on his own, dissipate slowly.

He lives for moments on the stage when, in front of thousands of people cheering his name, he feels alive, like he’s got the whole world on the palm of his hands, like everything he’s ever wanted is possible. It’s just you and him in this apartment, in this room, and he feels the same and something else - he feels enough, he feels more.

He kisses you slower this time, lips aching to savor every inch of your face, of your neck, as he slowly caresses your arms, your sides, taking his time there too.

He pulls you by the waist, hands resting on the base of your spine and he rests his head on the crook of your neck.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry for everything.”

You both stay there for a while, your arms around his neck and your warmth steadying Jungkook’s breathing that once again picked up when he’d realized he really could have completely lost you.

“You haven’t lost me,” you say, as if his beating heart had whispered to you his ultimate fear. He hugs you tighter and buries his head on your neck even deeper.

“I’m still scared though,” you confess, fingers brushing through the loose strands of his hair.

“I know, so am I,” he responds, finally coming out of hiding and facing you. “And it’s okay. But we have to promise to tell each other when it gets too much, yeah? We have to tell each other what bothers us, what worries us.”

“I don’t like confrontations,” you say.

“They won’t be. They’ll be discussions. We can’t let this happen again, okay?”

“Okay.”

He tips your chin up so he’s looking into your eyes again. “Now I think I said I was going to make it up to you,” the smug look on his face making its return. You missed this. And also, you’re in trouble.

He kisses you again, and again, and again. He ghosts his fingertips underneath your shirt and then he’s tracing patterns, constellations on your torso.

The clothes come off soon enough, until you’re both bare, uncovered, vulnerable in front of each other. He traces patterns again, this time with his lips, down to your shoulders, and then to your chest.

His mouth feels immaculate on your breasts, wet muscle hungrily laving over your pert nipples. His hands find refuge on your mound, ghosting the lips until the wetness sucks his fingers in. He draws circles over your clit, eliciting the most beautiful sounds from you. This rivals the screams of the fans for them, he thinks, but this one, he could have this everyday, definitely.

Everything happens the way both of you imagined, and you both commit to memory this moment - the satisfaction on his face when you buck your hips into his mouth, your dripping core coating his face with your wetness; the feeling of his soft but calloused hands claiming every inch of your body; his half-lidded eyes and his clenched jaw as he enters you, pushes into you, drags in and out of you; your cries of more, don’t stop, and I’m close, ringing in his head and prompting him to go harder, faster; and his moans as he finishes and your heavy breathing as you ride out both of your highs, heads still in the clouds, hands intertwined to keep you grounded, to remind you that this is real, that this isn’t the last time, that this is more.

You wake up to the sound of a phone’s incessant ringing, tempting you to throw the piece of device off the wall just so you could bask in this moment just a little longer. You try to reach for it, causing the morning sun that passes through the uncovered corner of your window to blind you slightly.

Jungkook groans next to you, head buried on the hair at the back of your head, his hand resting on your waist. You smile and let your fingers trace the ink that thoughtfully decorates his, settling them in the empty spaces in between. He deepens his head where it’s found sanctuary, hands now intertwined with yours, and pulls you closer. He greets you with kisses on your bare shoulder, soft moans escaping you as his hand now releases yours to roam the body he’d spend the whole day yesterday exploring.

“Mhmm, baby,” he moans to your ear, feeling the ecstasy of your hand soothing the ache he feels on his length. It’s all you need to turn to him, meet his lips, close the distance of your hips to his until he’s inserting himself into you again. Your bodies easily find a rhythm, your labored breaths harmonizing well.

It’s a softer one this morning, unlike yesterday (morning, afternoon, evening, pretty much). It’s lazy, tender; bodies just falling into each other, melding, fitting together, finding each other.

He cleans you up, like he did all times yesterday, and he lets you snuggle to him this time. He plants a kiss on your forehead, eyes dreamily tracing your features. He still can’t believe he’s here.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

“And you’re so good to me, Kook.”

You hum as he kisses you once more, a satisfied smile displaying on your lips. He likes this very much.

His phone beeps again, and again. He lets his head fall back on the pillow out of frustration.

“They’re calling for you,” you point out, a smile still gracing your lips. You’re used to this already.

“I know,” he resigns.

You rest your head on your chest and wrap your arm around him tighter. “Stay a little longer, please,” you plead.

He returns the favor and hugs you back, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Your turn to make breakfast, babe.”

You groan but proceed to drag yourself out of bed. Limbs sore and legs feeling like jelly, you miss your footing and trip on your clothes and ungraciously fall to the floor.

You both explode with laughter. He could get used to this, he thinks.

part 3 <<>> part 4 drabble

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#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fic #bts jungkook #idol jungkook

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