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azucanela · 4 years

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Hi! i’d like to request a Zuko x Reader oneshot please and it takes place a few years after he’s crowned as the Fire Lord: Zuko is entering suitable age for marriage and yet he has no one that he likes enough to take as his queen, what if Uncle Iroh hired the reader whom is a famous matchmaker that usually arranges the courting & marriage between nobles, but instead of all these ladies that she threw at him he ended up falling for her instead but he’s just so awkward and inexperienced Thank u

INAMORATA | ZUKO X READER

SUMMARY: after a few years of being Fire Lord, Zuko still hasn’t found a companion. so naturally, when Iroh comes upon a matchmaker, he does what he does best and helps Zuko out by hiring her to help him find someone. and inadvertently... iroh ends up playing matchmaker himself.

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

WARNINGS: mentions of death, death threats, kissing, pining, very mild innuendos, blood, injuries, crying

A/N: this is literally art omg i feel kinda honored to be seeing this ngl and i ended up researching matchmaking and they’re basically therapists that help you find love?? kinda. the profile thing is something that some matchmakers do and idk i have fun analyzing zuko so

in·am·o·ra·ta/iˌnaməˈrädə/

noun

a woman with whom one is in love or has intimate relations.

ATTEMPT ZERO

After years of being the Fire Lord, Zuko had come to realize the job was pretty basic if you thought about it long enough. There were just a few major things to deal with. First, there’s the internal relations, like the civil wars and uprising he deal with at the start of his reign because people disliked his ways. Then there’s the external relations, Zuko worked alongside Aang to repair those, helping the Southern Water Tribe rebuild itself from the ground up, and hosting meetings between the nations, friendly and work related. Those are the more diplomatic aspects of the job, and sadly, even as a ruler who sought to end a war, there was still violence in the world.

When Aang and the rest of Team Avatar ended the One Hundred Year War, that only exposed a variety of other problems within the world, problems that the team seeked to end. There were people out there who disliked this line of thinking, and similarly wanted it to end, but ending the lives of Team Avatar.

Zuko was used to the death threats, and the assassination attempts. He’d had a security detail in place to ensure he lived to rule his nation, this was especially necessary since he lacked an heir and the only other people eligible for the throne were an old man who ran a tea shop and a psychopathic teenage girl in a mental institution. This is where the social aspect of the job came in, the part that Zuko had never been good at. The Galas and the girls who threw themselves at him, the nobility of all nations that approached him offering their children’s hand in marriage. Zuko was an enigma, a young and powerful bachelor, and now all the nobles with children were lining up for a minute alone with him to try and sell their own kids.

It disgusted him. The way they treated their children like cattle reminded Zuko of his own father, how willing he was to get rid of Zuko since he had a replacement on standby. Though, Zuko sincerely doubted he ever would’ve gotten the throne if Ozai had a choice, even if he hadn’t been banished.

Alas, even Zuko could recognize the urgency of it, the death threats weren’t letting up, and the assassination attempts were only getting more and more elaborate, leaving Zuko wondering when they’d no longer be attempts. He needed and heir, or at least a wife who could rule alongside him and take over entirely in the event of his death.

The problem was, he didn’t want this.

He was in a unique position, where the person he married would have an immense effect on society, on politics. If it was an Earth Kingdom girl, then maybe the years of violence against their people could be mended sooner, and they could begin working together to combat a variety of issues. If he ends up with a Fire Nation girl, it could be viewed as strengthening the traditional ideals of Fire Nation independence and sovereignty because the Fire Nation is “supreme.”

Dating was political now and he hated it. It wasn’t like Zuko wanted to be alone, it’s just that now everything mattered far more than it used to. Of course, even as a prince it had been the same, but now that he was the Fire Lord, things seemed to be ten times worse. Perhaps it was excessive but Zuko couldn’t help but feel paranoid whenever a new person entered his life, he couldn’t help but assume that they were just using him for some other agenda.

Of course, his friends had tried to assure him this wasn’t always the case, and they’d even made attempts to set him up with girls. All of which had failed. Zuko knew he wasn’t an easy person, much less an easy person to date. As Fire Lord, a lot of his time was taken up by meetings, and diplomatic missions, and not-so-diplomatic missions alongside Team Avatar. That and he was rather awkward when it came down to most social interactions, though he’d improved over time, especially as the ruler of a nation, his speeches were elegant and so was the way he negotiated with other kingdoms.

And yet he struggled to talk to strangers.

Iroh seemed to be tired of this as well, he’d sent Zuko several letters in regards to his lack of romance, insisting that he was a “handsome young man” that had “lots of potential” and he was “wasting” his prime with so much work. Zuko didn’t consider managing a country as a waste, though he understood where Iroh was coming from, Zuko probably should’ve been spending time with friends, going to clubs. Not saving the world.

Regardless, there wasn’t much he could do about, he didn’t have time for dating, and Zuko wasn’t willing to compromise his morals and beliefs just for an heir in the event that he got brutally murdered. He refused to raise a child just for that purpose. He learnt the hard way that you should only have kids if you intend to cherish them. And the idea of marrying someone just to strengthen his nation felt wrong, though he could see the benefits.

God, he hated being Fire Lord sometimes.

On the other hand, Y/N L/N liked her job. Amongst the nobility of the Earth Kingdom, she was a rather famous woman, Y/N had brought together some of the most powerful couples in the country. A lot of people owed her favors, and the money that came with the job was more than satisfactory. If Y/N had to guess, she was one of the richest people in the kingdom, considering how much people were willing to pay to fine “the one.” Her business had been rather successful since she’d gotten renowned in the inner ring of the city, and now, Y/N was considering expansion, to the Fire Nation. The borders had long since reopened, when the new Fire Lord came into power.

A whole new set of nobles for her to profit from.

She’d decided to head to a high end tea shop in celebration of her choice to expand her business. Y/N had heard it was only for the best, since the tea shop served the best. One of her clients had insisted that someone of her esteem try the tea there, given that she was the best in her own profession.

So, here she was. It was a nice place, she wouldn’t deny, and Y/N had heard of the shop before. The Jasmine Dragon, run by some old guy who’d appeared in Ba Sing Se just before the war ended with some major talent when it came to brewing tea. The interior was fancy, but not excessive, several people were already seated within. Y/N even recognized one of the couples there, who waved at her enthusiastically, “hello! Lady L/N, how lovely to see you!” One of them called out.

Y/N smiled at them, “how are you two?”

The other beamed at her as she responded, “oh we’re just lovely! Preparing our wedding invitations and one of them has your name on it.” This wasn’t abnormal, most of the couples she’d brought together attributed their love to her. In actuality, Y/N found that if you found two people with compatible personalities, then they’d work things out on their own. All she did was introduce them.

“I’m excited!” Y/N assured, moving past their table, “now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to try this famous tea. But, I’m looking forward to the invite.”

The pair nodded, before returning their attention the friends seated across from them, and Y/N made her way to the front of the shop, bag of coins in hand. An older man stood behind the counter, a smile on his face as he brought his attention to her, “what can I get you today Miss...”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.” She replied, small smile on her face as she looked at the menu, “what’s your name?” Y/N asked, meeting his eyes to see the flicker of recognition within them before returning her gaze to the menu.

He nods slowly, “I’m Iroh, and you’re a matchmaker, no?” He’d recognized the name, her business had begun gaining traction amongst the nobility of the Earth Kingdom shortly after the war, and she was one of the most sought after matchmakers in the nation. Iroh himself had looked into her business, seeing as his nephew was yet to find love in his chaotic lifetstyle.

Y/N smiled at him as she nodded, “indeed.” She placed the menu down, “any suggestions?”

“Perhaps, Jasmine tea?” He suggested.

Y/N nodded, “sounds good.” She places extends a hand with coins, dropping them into his palm, “so are you looking for love?” Though she was certainly famous for her skills, Y/N tended to work behind the scenes, and she was surprised to find this man recognized her.

A small laughed escaped him at her words as he shook his head, “no. I believe it is a little too late for that.” He was working on her tea beyond the counter, and Y/N began to wonder how he was steaming the tea pot when she noticed there was no stove beside him.

“Don’t say that! You seem like a fine man that anyone woman would want.” Y/N assured, though she now wondered why exactly this man knew who she was in the first place. It was rare for those outside of nobility to know who she was.

Turning around, his hand pressed to the pot that Y/N was positive had to have been burning his hand in some way, “oh, you’re too kind.” He replies, a small smile on his face as he poured a bit into a cup, “I was looking to help my nephew find love actually.”

“Really, now?” Firebending, that was the only explanation for the way this man was handling the tea. “I was looking to expand my business to the Fire Nation, perhaps I could help him out.” He didn’t hold himself the way most Earth Kingdom citizens did, and coupled with the possible Firebending, he was likely from the Fire Nation.

Iroh raises a brow at this, “what gave me away?” He stirs the tea a few times, before placing it on the counter for her to take.

Y/N shrugs, “it’s my job to know people well enough that I can find them a match.” Taking a sip of her tea, she smiles, “so this nephew of yours. He wouldn’t happen to nobility, would he?”

He laughs at this, pouring himself a cup of tea as well as he sighs, “actually, he is nobility. In a way.”

Now Y/N did not expect the nobility Iroh spoke of the be the nobility. As in the Fire Lord, the actual ruler of the entire nation, though this would certainly be great for business. Once the world hears of how Y/N found the Fire Lord, someone who had been notably difficult to woo apparently, a match, her business will be set.

“Isn’t this exciting, guys?” Y/N exclaimed, looking to her assistants, they were both on the younger side, Marcella and Evelyn. She’d brought them along since this would definitely be a valuable learning experience, and Y/N figured she’d need a lot of help if the Fire Lord was as difficult as they made him out to be. That and Y/N didn’t want to leave them alone in the Earth Kingdom, both of them had been orphaned at a young age. Y/N couldn’t help but relate to them, so when she’d come upon her newfound wealth, brought about by her job as a matchmaker, she’d taken the pair under her wing.

With a bag thrown over her shoulder, Evelyn simply nodded while Marcella exclaimed, “yes! I’ve always wanted to see the Fire Nation. Do you think we could find a client in one of the Water Tribes next?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the young girl’s excitement, “if this goes well? We’ll be able to find clients anywhere.” She wasn’t wrong, Y/N had never had the opportunity to work with the actual Earth King, the true ruler of the nation. Now she was working with the ruler of a nation she’d never stepped foot in, entirely new customs and traditions to research, a new social structure, new everything.

What a fun challenge.

With a smile on her face, Y/N followed closely behind Iroh, the palace was stunning, she couldn’t deny it. And compared to the crumbling infrastructure of the lower rings of cities like Ba Sing Se, Fire Nation cities were prospering Fire Lord Zuko’s rule. From what she’d heard, things weren’t always this way.

“Y/N and I are going to wait here,” he gestured to the open space before them, dozens of paintings within it, “these two will take you to your rooms.” He explained to the pair of young girls, nodding to the servants beside them, who began to guide the young girls away.

Y/N’s eyes found their way to the paintings, the newest one being of the current Fire Lord, Zuko himself. She wondered how accurate the painting was, and seeing as she would be meeting him soon, Y/N figured she’d find out as she sighed, turning to Iroh, “so how does the original heir to the throne become the owner of an infamous tea shop?”

Iroh smiles to himself at her words, “age brings wisdom. And tea is a nice substitute for alcohol.” He jokes, though Y/N can see the pain in his eyes, along with admiration as he stares at Zuko’s portrait alongside her.

“Uncle!” A voice exclaimed, joy clear in his voice as he called out. Y/N watched as Iroh spun around, a broad smile on his face as he moved forwards to embrace the person.

He looked better in person, Y/N quickly decided, though the portrait did its job just as well. She wouldn’t deny he was attractive, but she already knew looks weren’t the issue. Iroh had informed her of the situation, Zuko’s constant rejection of any and every single person that approached him, and the stress he experienced because of the politics of it all.

“Nephew, it is good to see you,” Iroh said, releasing him from the hug, “how are you?” Initially he seemed fairly comfortable at the sight of just his Uncle, but as the Fire Lord’s body seemed to stiffen, Y/N realized she’d been spotted.

So, he wasn’t comfortable with strangers, “I’m alright Uncle... who is this?” He asked. There was an edge to his voice as he spoke, sizing Y/N up, not in the way you did for someone you were attracted to, but for an enemy.

Uncomfortable with new people, clear trust issues, and his mind was always alert. She’d have to write these things down and take them into consideration prior to finding him a potential partner. Though it was starting to look like he was completely unaware of her purpose there as she extended her hand out to him, “Y/N L/N. Professional matchmaker.” She explained with a bright smile, though, based off his personality, that would likely ward him off more.

He was polite though, shaking her hand despite his clear suspicions of her, “Zuko.” Y/N couldn’t help but raise a brow at this, he hadn’t mentioned his title in his introduction. Zuko turned to his Uncle, brows furrowing as he said, “you hired a professional matchmaker?”

With a shrug Iroh responded, “we met by chance! So, it must be destiny.”

Zuko gives him a tight lipped smile, nodding slowly before returning his attention to Y/N who stood away from the pair, examining the decor of the palace. It was minimalistic, truly basic if she was honest, despite the clear amount of riches they possessed, it lacked evidence of them. Bringing her eyes back to him, he spoke, “you don’t need to be here. You can receive your pay, but I personally see no purpose for a matchmaker.”

Iroh frowned at his words, “Zuko, you need to give it a chance! Unlike all those ladies who keep throwing themselves at you. Besides, she seems rather good at her job.” His gaze was on his nephew as he sighed, giving Y/N an apologetic look that she simply waved off.

“Oh, it’s fine. It just won’t be for long.” Zuko raised a brow at her words, and Y/N watched his feet shifted, “no need to prepare for a fight, your majesty.” She hummed, rolling her neck, in the corner of her eye she could see shock flash in his own. “You see, as a matchmaker I do several things, including developing a little... profile of my clients. Now we just met but I can already tell you a variety of things about you that’s making your love life rather trivial.” Even before she had to develop the profiles professionally, in the lower rings of Ba Sing Se, being capable of reading others was a necessary skill.

Zuko’s eyes narrowed at her, “and what have you determined, in the very short time we’ve known each other.”

A small laugh escaped her as she extended her arms and cracked her knuckles, “well. You have major trust issues, which is why you are desperately trying to keep me at arms length. That’s one reason why you have yet to find someone.” Turning her attention to the decor of the large room, Y/N closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Given the lack of interior design, I would say you’re struggling with social aspects of your job, and you need a partner. One that I can help you find.”

“See! I told you she’s good at what she does.” Iroh exclaimed, moving forward to clap a hand onto Y/N’s shoulder, much to Zuko’s dismay.

Y/N gave the older man a small smile before looking back to Zuko, who eyed her wearily, “you keep avoiding the portrait of your father. But you can’t bring yourself to take it down.” She said, and Y/N could practically feel the tension building with each word. “He’s one of the reasons you’ve yet to find a lover-”

“Because he gave me the scar?”

Y/N paused, brows furrowing at his words, her eyes found his, “I’m sorry, was that a joke?” She asked, and Iroh stared between the two, amused. “You’re actually rather attractive, which is why I know this is a personality thing. Probably tired of the whole fancy court thing they have going on here, which I’m going to need to research...” Y/N pursed her lips, failing to notice the clear shock on Zuko’s face at her comment, and red flushing his cheeks. Waving off her thoughts, she looked back to him, “anyways. My assistants should’ve already cleared out about an hour in your schedule each day for our sessions. I’m going to be asking you some very personal questions. So, be ready!”

And with that, Y/N waved to the two, bowing rather questionably shortly after, before heading off in the direction she’d seen Marcella and Evelyn go in. Effectively leaving behind a baffled Zuko, and a rather satisfied Iroh, who began to laugh at Zuko’s reaction. “I really like her, quite the character she has.”

“Yeah, quite the character.” He brought a hand to his temple, “is this really necessary, Uncle?”

Iroh simply sighed, looking to his nephew, “whether you want to admit it or not, she was right. Ruling a nation is difficult, and ruling it alone is even harder.” A small huff of laughter escaped Iroh, “and she figured that out by your lack of interior design!”

Exhaling deeply, Zuko reminded himself that this was all part of the job, the job that consumed his entire life. The life that this girl had analyzed in a matter of moments.

Yeah, he wasn’t looking forward to their meetings.

Though his morals and his disagreement with practically selling your own child were a major factor in his lack of a love life. There was also the simple fact that there was no love in many of the interactions he had with potential suitors, much less genuine interest. They all wanted the power he could give them should they get married.

There was also the fact that Zuko had very little relationship experience, a fact he was trying to ignore. At the end of the day, he couldn’t bring himself to approach anyone, and if he did, he wouldn’t know what to do. Zuko also doubted that people would act... genuine around him, especially if they knew who he was. And all he really wanted was something real, considering his entire day was surrounded by fake smiles that belonged to both him and others.

It seemed that Y/N wasn’t prepared to ignore this piece of information though, since the following morning she’d seated him down and begun to speak of it, “so. You’ve been in two relationships.”

His brows furrowed, “one actually.” He and Mai had broken up about six months into his work as Fire Lord, “Mai.”

Raising a brow at him, she leaned back in the seat. Zuko couldn’t help but wonder how she managed to decorate the place in such a short period of time, as he could’ve sworn there hadn’t been a desk here the previous day. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d toured his own palace. “Well, I’ve heard rumors of you and a Southern Water Tribe member, but I’m not sure which one so I just-”

“Okay! That’s enough.” His cheeks were flushed red as he looked away.

Y/N grinned at him, leaning forwards, “then let’s discuss Mai. You two were pretty on and off, right?”

Zuko grimaced at the thought, they were. He wouldn’t deny that he’d gone back to her a few times during his time as Fire Lord, “yeah.”

Y/N began to write into her notebook, “tell me about her.”

“I don’t see why that’s important.” Came his response, looking at her quizzically as he frowned.

Tilting her head at him, Y/N gave Zuko a look, “come on. Let me do my job, I need to know about her to gauge what types of personalities you like while also determining why the two of you broke it off entirely.” She placed the book down, and Zuko could very clearly see the words ‘commitment issues’ underlined. “The goal isn’t just to find you a suitable wife that can help you rule, but someone you can be happy with.”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes on Y/N, her words seem honest. And this was her job, “she was blunt. Honest. Kind of mean at times, but she could be sweet as well. Pretty stoic, expressing her emotions was always... difficult for her.”

Y/N nodded slowly, scribbling a few more things down, “okay. And what’s your favorite color?”

“What type of question is that?” Zuko asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

Crossing her arms, Y/N shrugged, “well. Favorite colors can tell you a lot about a person.” Came her response, “mine is green. Maybe that’s because I associate green with the Earth Kingdom, where I lived. Or maybe it’s because I happen to like nature quite a bit.” Looking around, Zuko could see that she’d already gotten a variety of plants native to the Fire Nation, most were succulents due to the almost year round heat.

At the mention of colors, his mind immediately went back to his first experience with the dragons, when their fire encircled him and Aang. “I.. don’t know how to describe the color- colors?” Zuko’s brows drew together in thought, and Y/N looked at him.

“How would I not understand a color?” The confusion is clear in her voice as she looks at him. Y/N can practically see the nostalgia in his eyes as he looks to the balcony.

Sighing, Zuko shifted in his seat, “these dragons I met ended up making a circle of fire around me and there were just... so many colors. But together it was just,” he paused, searching for the right word, “beautiful.”

Y/N’s mouth gaped open for a moment, “you met dragons?” She exclaimed, nearly throwing her notebook aside. Y/N had never seen such creatures, in fact, the general consensus was that they were still extinct

Zuko seemed to forget about this fact as he straightened himself, eyes meeting hers, “you can’t tell anyone about them!” He exclaimed, “they were hunted to extinction, though I intend to outlaw such things it’s just...”

She nodded in understanding, “people break laws.” Y/N leaned back into her seat once more, “you owe me a dragon story.” She said, before crossing her legs in her seat and continuing, “favorite food?”

“Well, Aang took me to Avatar Day, and they had these weird Avatar shaped dough things.” He explained, recalling the time he’d gone with Aang and the others. Apparently they used to burn his statue, but now they worship him for some reason.

Y/N brought a hand under her chin, “I have no idea what that is.” She began to scribble something down on her notepad, “but okay.”

“What about you?”

Y/N hummed in response, “what do you mean?”

Zuko felt his cheeks warm, “this just feels like an interview.”

“Probably because it is an interview.” Y/N said, gesturing for him to elaborate.

Looking away, Zuko frowned, “it’s weird.” Sighing, he spoke once more, “so, what’s your favorite food?”

Y/N was silent for a moment, staring at Zuko, who was trying his hardest to avoid her gaze. This was a rare occurrence, seeing as most nobles were rather self-centered and liked talking about themselves. She’d never had a client who felt uncomfortable with this portion because it was basically a one-sided conversation. “Jennamite is a good rock candy.”

Zuko turns back to her, a small laugh escaping him, “my friends were nearly killed in Jennamite by the King of Omashu once.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

ATTEMPT ONE

Y/N wouldn’t deny how odd it was, to be sharing as much information as she was learning about Zuko. She’d never really considered just how personal some of the questions were until she found herself answering them. But, after about a month, she had assembled a pretty good array of potential suitors for Zuko. Along with a few of her own clients, Y/N had found some girls that from the Fire Nation that seemed pretty acceptable.

That’s what she had thought at least.

“What do you mean, you already rejected her?”

Turns out, Zuko had met half the women, and rejected them. The other half were either from the Earth Kingdom, or yet to attend one of few Galas that Zuko hosted. Seeing as he handed off most of that work to his advisors, it was rare for him to remain at Galas for an extended period of time.

He grimaced at Y/N’s words nonetheless, his Uncle had informed her of his situation, but clearly not the extent of it. “She was more interested in her guard than me. It was a power grab her parents likely forced her into.” He remembered the girl, she’d been kind to him, but she clearly didn’t want him as much as her parents did.

His words brought about a new level of understanding for Y/N, who nodded slowly, of course it was the parents that Zuko had a problem with. It wasn’t uncommon for nobles to practically throw their children at potential suitors as though they’re a bag of coins. It was something that disgusted her as well, her job found people companions that they liked while these people simply wished for an addition to their power.

Zuko was the ultimate power grab. Y/N could only imagine how many times this had happened to him, random people he’d never met approaching him, offering their child’s hand in marriage.

Bringing a hand to her temple, Y/N sighed, “but the rest are fine?”

He nodded slowly, flipping through the pages he had yet to remove, Zuko skimmed what Y/N had written. Taking note of her handwriting, he wondered if she’d written his profile like this. “Yeah...” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, and Zuko sighed, removing a few more pages from the binder she’d presented him with.

Exhaling deeply, Y/N brought a hand to Zuko’s shoulder, “be honest with me. I’m not gonna yell at you for removing them Zuko, this is for you.”

Sometimes he forgot it was her job to be nice to him.

“Right.” He mumbled, trying to shake off the feeling he got as she removed her hand. “That’s still... a lot of people. Some of which aren’t even in this nation.” Zuko pointed out, a queasy feeling within him as he looked at her.

Y/N plopped down onto the couch in the common room they’d met in, sprawling her body across it, “you’re right, there is a lot. But,” She twisted her body so that she could see him, wiggling her brows suggestively, “it’s been a while since you hosted a Gala.”

Zuko’s face dropped at her words, in his years of being Fire Lord, he’d had about three total, and hated every single one. But given how rare the Galas were, people got pretty excited when he threw them. “I hate planning those, it’s a waste of time and-”

A small smile was on her face as she interrupted him, “and you suck at planning them? I can tell by the decor of your palace.” Glaring at her, Zuko watched as she shifted so that her head hung off the couch upside down, “well. This will be the best Gala yet, you’ll impress all the ladies that you can’t meet in the immediate future in about...” Y/N looked to the watch on her wrist, brows furrowing, “eight months. And I’ll help you plan it, since you desperately need help-”

“Alright, I get it, I’m horrible.” He grumbled, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his seat across from her after placing the binder on the coffee table between them. “Eight months isn’t a lot of time,” traditionally, Gala’s took at least a year’s worth of planning and preparation, especially since Zuko was so busy he barely had the time to assist in the process. Eight months was no where near enough.

Y/N was still frowning at his words, “no self-deprecation.” She ordered, taking Zuko by surprise, before continuing, “regardless. I’ve planned Gala in less time with less resources. It’ll be fine.” Pursing her lips Y/N sighed, “now we need to discuss your inability to talk to people in general due to your immense trust issues and constant battle field mentality.”

Zuko’s mouth gaped open at her words, “excuse me?”

Bringing her hands to rest on her stomach as she laid upside down, Y/N spoke, “when we first met you looked like you contemplated attacking me. And when you met Marcella and Evelyn, I’ve never seen someone so awkward.” Zuko is silent and looks away, only proving her point as Y/N continued, “so we need to practice your people skills, and flirting for future reference, seeing as your first date is in about a week-”

Almost immediately, Zuko straightened his posture, sitting up and looking to her as though she’d thrown a bucket of ice cold water onto him. “A week?” He winced at the way his voice cracked.

“Yeah, I spoke with one of the girls, not her parents, and asked her to meet with you later in the week.” Y/N explained, “her name is Elara, she’s in there.”

Frowning, Zuko reached for the binder and began to flip through the pages, “how’d you know I wasn’t going to get rid of her page?” Only to find the girl’s page, details on her personality, skills, hobbies and more on them.

A smirk spread across Y/N’s face, “she was one of few I was sure you’d keep.” With a sigh, Zuko looked back to Y/N, who still sat upside down, “now. You need to practice your romance skills, so come on.” She twisted her body, her legs falling to the side of the couch, and then moving onto the floor, Y/N stood. As the blood rushed to her head, a wave of dizziness came over her, and Y/N found herself stumbling slightly.

A hand came to her back and forearm, steadying her, “you need to practice walking.” Zuko laughed slightly, a nervous edge in his voice as he eyed her.

Y/N brought a hand to her head as she laughed as well, “oh my...” Y/N blinked several times as the wave of dizziness passed, her hand gripping Zuko’s arm as she grounded herself. Looking up to him, she quickly realized how close they were and cleared her throat, releasing his arm.

He followed suit, removing his hands from her, “sorry-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Zuko.”

The look her gives her almost hurts. Because Y/N can see the shock within his eyes as he nods slowly in response. She wonders what he’s thinking of as he she gives him a tight lipped smile, clapping her hands together as she turns back to him, “practice.” She repeated, mostly for herself.

And maybe offering to be the person he practiced on was her first mistake.

ATTEMPT FIVE

Y/N had learnt a lot about Zuko in the past four dates he’d been on. One of these things being the fact that Zuko was a wild card when it came to dates, and they seemed to either go very well with the girls contacting Y/N to let her know they wished for a second date, only for Zuko to reject the possibility. Or, they went very bad. And Zuko returned with some sort of drink splattered onto his clothing.

So, Y/N decided that the best course of action was to discover what exactly Zuko wasn’t mentioning, and to follow him with a disguise. Evelyn had suggested it, Iroh supported the idea full-heartedly, though Marcella had believed it would be a huge invasion of privacy, Y/N didn’t really care, seeing as it was her job to be involved in Zuko’s love life. She was getting paid to ensure he found love.

And she was curious.

That’s how Y/N ended up dressed in some very suspicious Fire Nation clothing alongside her assistants and the apparent Dragon of the West, famous tea shop owner, and member of the royal family.

What a wonderful assortment of people.

Marcella and Evelyn had separated from Iroh and Y/N, sitting in another booth across from them, it was a feeble attempt to keep them from sticking out. The girl had chosen a rather upscale restaurant, so dressing appropriately while also maintaining a look that prevented Zuko from recognizing them.

Y/N pulled her hat further down on her face as she looked to Iroh, who was browsing the menu. She wouldn’t be shocked if he entered the kitchen just to make himself a ‘decent’ cup of tea. He’d been rather helpful during the whole process, anything she didn’t find out from Zuko, Y/N had learnt from Iroh. “See anything you like, Iroh?”

He smiled at her, nodding slowly, “I think I’ll just take some tea.”

Looking to Marcella and Evelyn, Y/N smiles, the two are speaking with one another like they aren’t supposed to be spying on the Fire Lord. But Y/N doesn’t mind, this was more of a recreational activity anyways, and she was glad they were having fun. Since they’d gotten to the Fire Nation two months ago there had been an... adjustment period to put it simply.

Y/N nodded at Iroh’s statement, and her eyes fell back onto Zuko and his newest date, Amaya, she was a simple girl. She’d possessed organizational skills that Zuko lacked, planned dozens of events, had the expressive qualities that Zuko yearned for in a partner. Amaya was one of few that Y/N was sure Zuko would take a liking to. Especially since she also had training in a variety of fighting styles, and was quite the Firebender. She’d been a little skeptical when she first contacted Amaya, the girl seemed hesitant, but she agreed.

And from the looks of it, he had. The pair was laughing along with each other, but Y/N could see the way Zuko stiffened at any physical contact, in general he’d yet to relax. If Y/N was honest, it was basically like any first date, awkward.

Zuko didn’t really know how to feel about Amaya, she was what he should be looking for in a girl, everything he needed if he was honest. She had an interest in the art, something Zuko had never taken to and the main reason his palace looked, ‘dull’ as Y/N had put it. And she was expressive, the main issue he’d had with Mai was her lack of expression. But, for some reason, Zuko just couldn’t see her as anything more than a good friend. There was something... off about her.

“When that Earth Kingdom girl approached me, I was skeptical.” Amaya explained, taking a sip from her glass, “you know how most Earth Kingdom folk are...” She gave him a look as Zuko listened in confusion. “The Fire Nation citizens simply have more class.” Amaya settled for with a shrug.

Oh.

Zuko laughed nervously, “I’m not sure I understand. I find Earth Kingdom citizens pretty pleasant actually, and Y/N, the one you met, she’s actually very resourceful and kind.” His mind went to Toph as well, who had invented an entirely new type of bending. She was an impressive young woman from the Earth Kingdom, and Y/N was as well, she’d started her own business at a young age and turned it into something incredible.

“Really? She didn’t seem too smart when I met her, but who can say no to a meeting with the Fire Lord?”

Zuko was pretty sure her words were meant to be taken as a joke. But Amaya wasn’t the first person Zuko had encountered with this mindset, she was just more subtle about it. The supremacy of the Fire Nation was still an idea that ran rampant in some people’s minds, though Zuko had dealt with most disputes regarding his peaceful relations with other nations. Many still missed the time when the Fire Nation practically owned the world, where Fire Nation citizens could treat the people who had their homes taken from them however they pleased.

It was a dark time in his nation’s history, nonetheless, several people missed it. This was something rather prevalent amongst Nobles though, they were the ones who lost an immense amount of land when the war had ended. Many of them were bitter about what had happened.

If Zuko was honest, she’d probably had these ideas drilled into her since birth, and simply hadn’t grown out of them, which was a shame. But as the ruler of a nation, he couldn’t rule beside someone who looked down on others simply because they weren’t from the Fire Nation.

Zuko shook his head, “Y/N built her business from the ground up. And now she’s helping the Fire Lord get dates.” He knows he sounds defensive, as though he’s prepared to fight her, something his Uncle would likely scold him for, but he doesn’t care at the moment.

“All she does is set you up with people.”

Zuko’s brows furrowed at this comment, and he raised a hand to get the attention of the waiter, “excuse me, could I get the check please?” The young man nodded, heading off to get the check, and Amaya looked at him incredulously.

Y/N had done far more than set him up with people, she’d helped him begin planning a Gala, she’d tried her best to find a good assortment of people that would fit both Zuko’s needs and the Fire Nation’s, and that list was probably very difficult to narrow down. Zuko had seen the work she put in for formulating profiles of the potential suitors, and throughout all of it she had done nothing but support him.

“What are you doing?” Amaya asked, shifting in her seat as she stared at Zuko quizzically.

The waiter came over and handed Zuko the check, and Zuko placed a pouch of money on the table, “thanks. Keep the change.” He explained, nodding to the boy, who’s mouth gaped open in surprise as he took the pouch of money, bowing to Zuko repetitively, though Zuko wasn’t paying much attention to him as he spoke to Amaya. “I don’t think this is going to work out, I’m sorry.”

Amaya is still seated in shock as Zuko rises from his table, and Y/N can’t help it when her mouth gapes open at the sight of him simply abandoning his date. She makes eye contact with Iroh, who raises a brow, and they both sit up. She moves to follow Zuko, only to bump into someone.

“I’m so sorry!” Y/N exclaims, moving down to help them pick up their hat, that had fallen when they collided.

“No, that was my fault entirely!” He responds, shaking his head as they both leaned town to pick it up.

“Aang, come on! He’s leaving.” The woman behind him exclaims.

Y/N’s brows furrow in recognition as she looks up to see a blue arrow tattooed on the man’s head, and her eyes widen in realization. Zuko had described Aang several times during their conversations, he and the rest of his friends came up often. But Y/N did not expect the first time she met the Avatar and his friends to be when they were both following Zuko on his date.

ATTEMPT FOURTEEN

Y/N simply sighs as she opens her door to see Zuko, in the outfit she’d helped him pick out. “What was it this time?” He’d been on thirteen dates thus far, and Y/N was slowly realizing that Zuko was likely one of her most difficult clients. This was purely because he’d yet to get a second date, though there had been offers, Zuko had declined all of them.

“She was just-” His hands gestured rather broadly, he was practically throwing them into the air, “she was so rude to the waiter.” This had always been a dealbreaker for him, since he’d worked as a waiter in two different tea shops, Zuko had come to understand the importance of treating a waiter with kindness and how difficult the work could be.

His eyes dart between Y/N and her door, she’s rubbing her eyes due to the exhaustion and Zuko can’t help the guilt that floods him. Nonetheless, she opens the door wider, heading inside her room and signaling for him to close it as she falls back onto her bed. “You were a waiter once, yeah?” He’d told her a fair share about his life in the Earth Kingdom, she’d inquired quite a bit about that part of his life.

He asked about her life in the Earth Kingdom too, and she’d told him how poor life could be the in the outer rings, something he’d experienced for himself. Zuko listened as she describe living after her parents had died, working for a matchmaker only to discover she was actually good at the job, making a name for herself in the outer rings and then making her way inwards until she was one of the most sought after matchmakers in the kingdom. Y/N spoke of how she’d met Marcella and Evelyn, and how she’d taken them in when she’d discovered they were both orphans, living on the streets as pickpockets.

Zuko wouldn’t help but laugh at this, he could imagine Evelyn as a pickpocket, but Marcella? She was a sweet girl, he couldn’t imagine her in a life of crime. Of course, desperation made people do questionable things. Zuko knew that much from experience.

“Yeah, I was.” Came his response, taking a seat in the chair by her desk.

Y/N sat up in her bed, bracing herself with her elbows as she raised a brow at him, “what are you doing?”

Zuko frowned, shifting in the chair, “sitting...?” He moved to get up but Y/N waved him off.

“Just lay with me, idiot.” She allowed her head to fall back onto the bed, patting the spot beside her. Clearly, her suggestion wasn’t bothering her, but Zuko felt his face flush at the possibility.

If he’s honest, he’s not even trying anymore when it comes to dates and women and love. There were three reasons for this, one of which was the fact that he simply wasn’t connecting with any of the women he had met thus far. Sure they were nice, and they probably would be his type has it not been for reason two. The fact that Zuko had realized he had feelings for Y/N, what feelings? He wasn’t sure, but they sure as hell weren’t platonic, if they were he would not be blushing this much. He wouldn’t get that weird feeling in his stomach whenever he spoke to her.

Then there was was reason three, if Zuko succeeded in finding love, then Y/N would leave. It was selfish, but he already knew he wouldn’t find anyone considering he pretty sure he loved someone else already. So now, Zuko was basically procrastinating letting Y/N know that this just wasn’t going to work out, mostly because he didn’t have a plan.

He was debating just firing her, but that likely wouldn’t go over well, and he wanted to see her business succeed. If you get fired by the Fire Lord, that just looks bad. Now Zuko wondered what the best way to go about this was, since there was no point in working for him, even if she was getting paid. He was a waste of time.

He couldn’t help the smile graced his lips as his own thoughts reminded him of the time she’d scolded him, telling him to quit being self-deprecating.

Zuko sat up from the chair, making his way over to her bed, Zuko found himself simply plopping down onto it face first, earning a laugh from Y/N.

He rolled over onto his back, turning to look at Y/N, only to find her eyes were already on him, bringing a blush to his cheeks as he mumbled, “what?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why you haven’t gotten a second date yet.” Came her response, propping herself up on her forearm. “You have a nice personality, you’re attractive, I’m sure at least one of the girls caught your eye.” Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair as she began to wonder if she’d incidentally allowed her own feelings to get in the way of her work. Maybe that’s why this was going so badly.

This was a problem.

Zuko simply shook his head, his face on fire as he listened to her words, though he couldn’t help the hand he brought to the scar on his face. Y/N had pointed out before that he was allowing his Father to control his actions even now that he was imprisoned, and Zuko was beginning to see what she meant.

Removing his hand from his face, Zuko sighed. Though he didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts as her hand hesitantly came to his face, placing a hand on his cheek and allowing her thumb to brush against the scar. Zuko jumped at the sudden contact, and Y/N moved to withdraw her hand almost instantly, but Zuko’s hand came to hers and held it there. Looking to her, he couldn’t read the look in her eyes as she gazed at him, and suddenly he wished he was as good at reading people as she was.

“No self-deprecating thoughts.” Y/N mumbled, “bad Zuko.” She removed her hand from his to flick his head, causing his brows to furrow.

He pouted, and Y/N let out a laugh as he spoke, “how come you haven’t found someone?” Zuko looked to her, “you’re beautiful, and smart, and just... perfect.” He didn’t notice when her cheeks warmed, “you’re a literal matchmaker, surely you’ve considered who your perfect person is.”

Y/N fell onto her back, running her hands over her face as she shook her head, “how have you not gotten a second date?” A sigh escaped her, “I haven’t had time for love before, and I just haven’t found that,” looking to him, she pursed her lips, “perfect person.” Growing up in the lower rings, she didn’t have time for an actual relationship, and her business as a matchmaker grew incredibly quickly. At the end of the day, long term just didn’t work out, Y/N barely had for herself, much less another person.

“I guess we both suck at love.” Zuko said, his tone was serious and Y/N couldn’t help but burst out into laughter as she swatted at his chest.

Too bad they couldn’t suck at love together.

ATTEMPT SEVENTEEN THROUGH TWENTY EIGHT

Smoothing over her green dress, a sign of her citizenship in the Earth Kingdom, Y/N moved to answer the knock on her bedroom door. Given how long she’d been in the Fire Nation, Y/N wondered if the Earth Kingdom would still feel like home when she returned. The idea of going back felt odd, and though that time likely wasn’t soon unless Zuko met the love of his life tonight, it was inevitable.

And it horrified her.

Holding the edge of the dress slightly to make it easier to walk, Y/N sighed and opened the door, seeing Zuko. A small smile on her face as she eyed his Fire Nation robes, “you look nice.” She complimented, tilting her head at him as she allowed her eyes to travel over his figure.

Zuko nodded, a blush coming over her cheeks, his mouth gaping open as he looked at Y/N. “You look beautiful.” She did, the dress looked amazing on her, her hair styled just right, and bracelets adorning her wrists.

“Thank you, Fire Lord Zuko.” His nose crinkled at the use of his title, coming from her it felt even weirder, wrong almost. But she continued, “mind helping me out?” She asked, moving back to her desk and taking a necklace in hand. Y/N had been struggling to put it on for the past few minutes, and now she had someone to do it for her.

He nodded, closing the door behind him, he took the necklace from her hand, and when Y/N ensured her hair was out of his way, Zuko brought the necklace around her neck. He secured the clasp, hands lingering as he adjusted it to the center of her neck. Zuko couldn’t help but notice a small scar on her shoulder, hand brushing over it.

Y/N looked over her shoulder and to him, brow raised, “how’d you get this?” He asked, brows drawn together. His hand traced the raised skin gently, Y/n could feel her cheeks warming at his touch, inhaling deeply.

She grimaced, “a knife fight I almost lost my life to.” Was her explanation. Y/N didn’t like to think back to the days when she’d resorted to several... questionable actions to stay alive. But she pushed those thoughts away as she turned to face him. “You ready?” Y/N asked, they had to get to the Gala soon, considering the fact that Zuko was the host, Y/N was shocked he’d even stopped by her room in the first place.

Zuko was silent, simply nodding as he extended his arm for her to take. And Y/N did, looping her arm around his as she smiled, “you are gonna woo so many Earth Kingdom women tonight!” Y/N exclaimed, more confidence in her voice than Zuko had.

Shame the only Earth Kingdom girl he wanted to ‘woo’ was her.

When they’d arrived at the Gala, descending the stairs together, they were greeted with the claps of the other guests. Zuko would feel the anxiety flood him, but he paid it no mind. Though Y/N could feel the way he stiffened as he ended his speech to the diplomats of all nations, “let this be a peaceful, and joyous night!”

They all burst out into cheers before the party continued, the music starting once more, and everyone returning to feasting upon the buffet, dancing along the ballroom floor or speaking with one another. All while Y/N led Zuko down the stairs, dragging him by the hand, “come on. Enjoy your own party, meet some girls.” She winked, and Zuko swore his face heated up even more than it already had.

Y/N wasn’t a fool, she knew that if she’d stuck by his side the entire night, she would serve as a repellant of any potential suitors. So naturally, much to Zuko and Y/N’s dismay, she removed herself from him, playfully shoving him towards a group of Earth Kingdom girls she’d mentioned earlier. Though there were several other clusters in the ballroom.

Zuko simply sighed, giving Y/N a small smile before making his way to the group of girls. If he was honest, he would rather be spending the Gala by her side, but he had to put in some effort. He owed Y/N that much. Besides, this was an entirely new group of girls, maybe he would find someone tonight.

“Hi there.” Zuko greeted, waving awkwardly at the girls.

This action earned him a few laughs, and he was unsure if they actually found it funny or felt the need to laugh since he was the Fire Lord. Shortly after they began introducing themselves, speaking like there was no tomorrow.

If Zuko was honest, the number of women here was overwhelming. So, as he excused himself from the conversation, much to their chagrin, he placed his cup down on the platter of one of many waiters. Making his way outside, Zuko couldn’t help but feel relieved at the fresh air that hit him on the balcony. Though he contemplated heading back inside when he noticed another girl was already there, eyes shut as she faced the sky, she turned to see him, eyes widening a fraction. “I’m sorry, I can go-”

“No!” She exclaimed, cheeks flushing in embarrassment due to her outburst, “no... it’s fine.” She turned back to look at the sky, hand clasped together, fidgeting.

Zuko stepped forward, finding himself situated across from her, leaning against the railing, “so why are you out here?”

A small laugh escaped the girl, and she ran a hand through her hair, “it’s rather stress relieving. You have a lovely view in your palace.”

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he realized she recognized him, though Zuko nodded along, “what’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking?” It was a stupid question, and Zuko nearly facepalmed as he pursed his lips.

“Aileen.” Came her response, and Zuko realized he recognized her name as well. She was the child of one of the more well known members of Fire Nation nobility, her parents had approached him in the past in hopes of arranging a marriage between the two of them. He had declined almost immediately. And now that Aileen turned to him, he had a feeling he made the right decision, “you’re Zuko, right?”

He exhaled deeply, nodding, “that’s me.” Sometimes, Zuko wondered what his life would’ve been like if he wasn’t Zuko, perhaps things would’ve been simpler. No, things definitely would’ve been simpler. There would be no diplomatic meetings, no wars, no idiots trying to hurt other people, no more assassination attempts, no more fake smiles and no more Galas. Of course, if he wasn’t Zuko, he never would’ve met Y/N.

“I heard you’re looking for a partner in crime.” Aileen prompted, “why aren’t you in there finding that future love of your life?”

Shrugging, Zuko looked up at the sky, “I found her. She just doesn’t want me.”

He can feel Aileen stare at him, she’s silent for a moment, and Zuko wonders what she’s thinking. Though he doesn’t need to wait long to find out as she responds, “I understand.” Aileen focuses her gaze on the glass she’d placed on the thick railing of the balcony, “the person I love probably doesn’t love me back. And even if they did, my parents disapprove.”

“Did you ask?” He felt hypocritical, Zuko himself had never spoken with Y/N in regards to his feelings, and he likely never would, but he wanted to know. “If they love you?”

Aileen laughs slightly, shaking her head, “I couldn’t bring myself to. I’m scared.” She replied, looking back to him curiously, “did you?”

“No.” He responded lamely, tapping his fingers against the railing with a sigh.

Aileen laughed at this, “I guess we are both cowards then.” She pursed her lips, “I didn’t ask because I was scared, why didn’t you?”

And then the words come spilling out, “whoever I end up with will greatly impact the whole world, whether I want to acknowledge it or not. And she doesn’t deserve that burden, nobody does.” He laughs bitterly as he continues, “she’s also the person that was hired to help me find love in the first place.” Zuko pauses, looking away from Aileen, “and I guess I’m scared too.”

“Ironic.” Aileen mumbles, bringing her eyes back to the sky, “let’s make a deal, Your Majesty.”

Zuko cringes at the use of that title, almost asking her to simply refer to him by his name, though he simply responds, “what deal?”

“We both confess. And if it goes horribly wrong, we can get married.”

Y/N can’t see the shock on Zuko’s face, but she can see how comfortable he feels with this girl, Y/N hadn’t seen her before, but she was just happy Zuko was connecting with someone. Except she also wasn’t, a bitter feeling enveloping her as she turned away, looking for something else to focus her attention on, something that didn’t hurt.

She turned to see Marcella and Evelyn in the distance, speaking with each other. Y/N supposed if she wouldn’t be finding love tonight, then at least they would. She was no fool, she saw the way they looked at each other, the glances when the other wasn’t looking. Maybe it was dumb, but Y/N found herself feeling jealous as she moved over to the buffet with a sigh. Food solved everything in her experience, after a client had a particularly bad day, food made things better.

“Perhaps some tea?” Iroh stood beside her, a kettle in his hand, he had insisted he serve tea at the Gala, though Zuko had assured him it would be just as easy to find someone else to do the job.

Y/N smiled at him, nodding as she took a cup from the array of them within the buffet, allowing Iroh to pour her some tea. “Thank you, Iroh.” Her voice is quieter than normal, and it’s clear that Iroh can tell something is wrong.

“You know, you deserve to be happy to Y/N.” His words catch her by surprise, though she doesn’t have much time to consider their meaning before flames lighting the room begin to move erratically, causing her brows to furrow.

Something was wrong.

Iroh nods to her, placing the tea kettle down as his brow furrow and she nods back, Iroh disappearing into the crowd of people. Y/N’s eyes fall back to Marcella and Evelyn, and she quickly moves to their side of the room, ignoring the hush that had fallen over the room, panicked gasps amongst them. Her hands fall onto both girl’s arms as she nods to them, “Y/N, whats going-”

Y/N is already dragging them in the direction of the exit, “get out of here, find the guards. I’m going to find Zuko.” The girls didn’t have much time to argue, as Y/N was already working her way through the panicked crowd, back to the balcony where she’d last seen Zuko. But, people were already pushing against her movements, making it difficult. Raising her head above the crowd in an attempt to see what’s going on, Y/N realizes whats happening.

Firebenders were trying to force them together, and Y/N couldn’t help but panic as she wondered if Marcella and Evelyn managed to escape and find the guards.

This was an ambush.

No, this was an assassination attempt. Zuko already knew as he watched the atmosphere of the party begin to shift, that and the person who stood before him in all black, brandishing several weapons. Alongside four others who stood by her side.

“You know, it wasn’t until I met you that I realized how bad it had gotten.” Aileen stood beside Zuko, eyes meeting his in horror as they exchanged looks. Zuko simply hoped the nod he gave her provided some semblance of comfort as he returned his attention to the person before him. “I mean, defending some lowly Earth Kingdom matchmaker? What type of career even is that?”

Her voice is almost maniacal, and Zuko can’t help but wince as he feels reminded of his sister. But he recognizes it nonetheless, Amaya. It had been months since he’d seen her, but he could still remember her voice. Her face was covered by a mask, and she wielded a sword, and if Zuko remembered correctly, she had been trained in dozens of fighting styles and was a talented bender herself. Alongside the four other men, Zuko couldn’t help but panic internally as he spoke, “Amaya, why don’t you put the swords down, and we talk about this.”

She laughs in response, ripping the mask that covered her face off and throwing it aside, “people have tried to talk to you about this. Your-” She grappled for the word, a hand yanking at her hair as she gestured to him with a sword, “your radical ideas!”

Zuko didn’t find having morals radical, but he wasn’t going to say that, not while Aileen’s life was on the line. Zuko suddenly realized why having an heir was important as he shook his head, “Amaya, look. Why don’t you let Aileen here leave, and then you and I can talk.”

Aileen looks like she’s going to protest, but Amaya glances at her red robes, a sign of her Fire Nation citizenship, and gestures for her to leave. “Get out. My problem isn’t with you.”

When Aileen doesn’t move, Amaya quickly grows frustrated, calling out to one of the guards she’d brought along that lied inside, “take this fool away.”

There’s no response, and Zuko can see panic flood Amaya’s face. And looking behind her, he quickly realizes that most of the guards have been subdued, Y/N holding one of them in her arms as she knocks them to the ground. Moving towards the balcony stealthily as Amaya’s hands begin to shake, fire sparking in her palms as she focused her attention onto Zuko. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to our nation.”

But Zuko wasn’t looking at her as he shook his head, hoping Y/N would understand. There was no way she could overpower Amaya, not with her bending. Y/N didn’t even have a weapon.

Now, Y/N knew for a fact that no matter how talented Zuko was, he wouldn’t put the girl beside him in danger. His priority would be keeping her alive, and given the training Amaya had as a noble, in both Firebending and fighting, she might even be as good as Zuko in a fight.

Meaning she had to be taken out of the fight.

Everything happened pretty fast after that. Zuko was shielding body coming forward to shield Aileens as he extended his freehand to Firebend at the people who’d surrounded them, only for Amaya to move out of the way. The girl was practically screaming bloody murder as she lunged at him, now wielding her sword.

Zuko didn’t have to figure out what to do next because Y/N moved faster than Amaya did, tackling the girl over the railing and down below as he began to scream.

THE FINAL ATTEMPT

Zuko’s knee is bouncing rapidly as he sits beside Iroh, who knits a scarf of some sort despite the blistering heat of the Fire Nation. He’s insisted that when Y/N returned to the Earth Kingdom she’d need it, and Zuko didn’t have the heart to disagree. Iroh had started stress-knitting about four hours ago, when Y/N had entered the room they all sat before, anxiously awaiting news of her condition.

Marcella and Evelyn are to Zuko’s left, Marcella’s sobs had quieted down, but Zuko wouldn’t be shocked if he looked over and saw tears silently streaming down her face. The girl hadn’t taken it well. Evelyn remained composed, doing her best to comfort Marcella, but the wait was clearly getting to her as well as she fidgeted with Marcella’s hands.

Seeing as Y/N had fallen from several stories up off the balcony and into the water below, Zuko didn’t really think it was possible to take the news well. But he was trying.

A pang sounded from inside the room, and Zuko practically shot up onto his feet, moving to knock on the door to discover was was wrong, only for Iroh to grab his wrist, shaking his head. Zuko exhaled deeply, beginning to pace across the hall. He found himself wishing that Katara hadn’t been busy with Water Tribe business, she was an excellent healer. Alas, Katara wasn’t there, and Zuko had to settle for one of the skilled Water Tribe diplomats instead, alongside a few others skilled in medicine.

As he paced, Zuko could feel Evelyn’s eyes on him, and it became clear she was itching to speak and he sighed, “what’s wrong?” There were dozens of answers to this question, the main one being the fact that Y/N could die today, so he hoped she understood what he meant.

The girl is glaring at him, and Zuko can’t help but feel uneasy. Because maybe she blames him for this as much as he blames himself, and maybe she’s going to tell him off, blame him for everything. Because if Y/N dies, she and Marcella will have no one again.

Not that Zuko would allow that. He’d grown attached to the girls as well, they were kind, and helpful. They’d help improve the interior decor of the palace, and if he was honest, it looked better than anything he ever could’ve done.

“You better tell her how you feel after this.”

Zuko’s mouth gapes open at the girl’s words, and he swears the breath leaves his longs, and its as though everything hits him then.

He would never get to tell Y/N how he felt if she died. He’d never get to listen to her try and tell a story just to go off on dozens of tangents, he’d never get to watch as she attempted to cook again, and he’d never get to hold her in his arms once more. There would be no more late night talks, and he wouldn’t hear her laugh, she wouldn’t tease him anymore and they wouldn’t walk through the courtyard feeding turtleducks again.

She’d never know he loved her.

Zuko finds himself nodding to Evelyn’s words, frozen in place as he looks to her and asks, “was I that obvious?” His voice is hoarse, and its probably because he didn’t stop screaming, even when Y/N’s body hit the water.

Marcella is laughing at his words, blowing her nose into a tissue that Evelyn hands her before she speaks, “painfully obvious.”

“For someone who’s job revolves around love, Y/N is one of the most oblivious people I’ve ever met.” Evelyn grumbles out, rubbing her eyes as she yawns.

It was late, Zuko knew that much, the guests of the party had gone to the infirmary in the palace, being tended to by doctors and any other available healers if injured. Otherwise, they’d all returned to their rooms to sleep, or more likely stay up in fear of another attack. Zuko surely would.

“Go to bed guys, it’s getting late.”

Evelyn looks at him like he’s one of the dumbest people she’s met, and if Zuko was honest, he probably was. But he simply nodded to Marcella, who had started leaning her head against Evelyn’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. “Uncle, why don’t you take them back to their rooms?”

Considering the fact that Zuko’s guards were around the corner, he wasn’t scared for his safety, but their presence just made him want to remain awake.

“Nephew, you should sleep as well.” His Uncle replied, though he rose from his seat, bringing the yarn and the start of the scarf under his arm.

Zuko gave his Uncle a smile, “I will. But if anything happens before then, I’ll be sure to alert you all.” He assured, nodding to Evelyn, who eyed him wearily. But she relented, shaking Marcella gently before standing up alongside her and Iroh.

When they were out of sight, Zuko plopped back down in the seat, his elbows resting on his knees as he brought his hands to his face.

And for the first time in the night he cried, his body racked with sobs as tears streamed down his face and he struggled to breathe. The pain of all that had happened felt almost unbearable. She had to live. Y/N had to live. Because Zuko was going to confess.

His fear of losing her outweighed his fear of rejection.

Wiping his tears away, Zuko suddenly felt grateful that Evelyn had left the box of tissues as he blew his nose. He sighed, his eyes piercing the door, hoping that something would happen.

As though his stare had willed her to exit the room, the healer came out, a grimace on her face as she looked to Zuko, likely because of his bloodshot eyes. The woman simply sighed, the grimace becoming a more sympathetic look. “Miss L/N lost a lot of blood... several of her bones were broken when she hit the water, especially her ribs. Her internal organs were damaged as well and... well it wasn’t very likely for her to survive.”

She’s dead.

Y/N is dead.

Oh.

“Wow, you look like a mess.”

Zuko’s head whips up, his eyes meeting Y/N’s, she’s leaning against a wooden crutch, grinning lazily at him. The healer beside her looks rather apologetic as she frantically explains, “she woke up far quicker than we anticipated and only agreed to rest if we participated in her rather cruel prank.”

So, she wasn’t a ghost.

Zuko launches himself up from the chair, nearly tackling Y/N, but the wooden crutch she uses for support serves as a reminder of her fragile state as he asks, “can I hug you?”

Her smile falters at the sound of his voice, hoarse and jagged, so she simply extends are free arm outward. Zuko takes this as an invitation for a hug, gently wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head in her neck, Y/N wrapped her free arm around his neck, hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. “Im s-”

“It’s not your fault Zuko. I swear if you say its your fault I will throw myself over the balcony again.” She threatened, hand tightening in his hair.

Zuko laughs quietly, inhaling deeply before he speaks again, “please never do that again.”

“I make no promises.”

Sighing, Zuko releases her, “I hate you so much.”

Y/N scoffed, “you love me.” She was limping over to the bed in the middle of the room, blood coating the surrounding area. Though the doctors in the room were moving across the room that they’d placed Y/N on, and dealt with her injuries on, Zuko couldn’t help but feel sick at the sight.

She could’ve died.

“Yeah, I do.”

Y/N pauses, turning to look back at him, her mouth gapes open. Zuko’s looking away, eyes on anything but her as he inhales deeply.

The healer simply sighs, “before we do this, I should inform the two of you that Miss Y/N cannot do any... strenuous activities for at least one month.”

Zuko’s cheeks are flushing red as he shakes his head rapidly, “ma’am-”

“We’ll be taking our leave. Have fun, but not too much fun. Please.” The woman closes the door behind her once the other doctors are out of the room, and Y/N can’t stop laughing at the mortified expression on Zuko’s face, despite the sharp pain she feels in her ribs.

Taking a seat on the fresh sheets of the bed, Y/N sighs, “so you love me?” She’s picking at the sheets, “as a friend?”

Zuko suddenly realizes just how right Evelyn was as he slowly shakes his head, “no. More than a friend. I think I inadvertently sabotaged half of the dates you sent me on because of it.”

Y/N laughs quietly, eyes falling on Zuko only to see he’s looking anywhere but her, she calls out to him quietly, “Zuko. Look at me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to bring his gaze to her, eyes meeting hers as he begins to fidget with his hand. Y/N simply reaches her hand out, and he takes it. “I love you too, idiot.” She mumbles, pulling him closer and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I just wish you had told me sooner so I didn’t waste so much time trying to set you up with other women.”

A small laugh escapes him as he brings his hand to her hair, “how do I know you weren’t purposely giving me bad matches because you were in love with me?”

Y/N removes her head from his stomach, looking up at him, her nose crinkles, “unlike you, I am a professional.” Zuko flicks her forehead, and Y/N pouts at him, hand coming up to his face, “can I kiss you?”

She can feel his face warm, but he nods rather enthusiastically nonetheless, and Y/N finds herself smiling at his as she uses her hands to pull his face downward towards her. His lips meet hers, and Zuko finds himself feeling complete, hands coming to Y/N’s face in an attempt to pull her closer while hers move to his ball up his robes that he’d yet to change.

Zuko pulls away first, forehead resting on hers, “you need to sleep.”

Y/N scoffed, eyes narrowing at him, “you need to sleep.” Looking to the bed, she raises a brow at him, “wanna lay with me?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I could accidentally injure you or-”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N yanks him onto the bed, making her way to the other side and getting comfortable, “I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, everything would be fine. Maybe not for the Fire Nation, seeing as Y/N would potentially help rule a nation but...

Everything would be fine.

in·am·o·ra·ta/iˌnaməˈrädə/

noun

a woman with whom one is in love or has intimate relations.

A/N: i hope this was good enough!!! i tried!!! and idk how it ended up over 12k... that’s crazy man um kjhdsajfhjkah omg i really liked this concept though i hope i did it justice

TAGLISTS [lmk if you want to be added or removed via askbox or replies]

ATLA: @bubblebars @jada-cleo @Art-flirt @the-deli-meat @wemissyou3000 @ajediherowitchrunner

ZUKO: @outerxorbit @shawkneecaps @lil-lex1 @boxofteenageideas @izzieserra @eridanuswave @bigbuckyenergy @celamoon @savemesteeb @shephard17895 @ijustwannabecanadian @duh-dobrik @anime-simp @lammello

#prince zuko x reader #zuko x reader #zuko x you #prince zuko x you #zuko x y/n #prince zuko x y/n #zuko atla x y/n #atla zuko x y/n #atla zuko x reade #zuko atla x reader #atla zuko x reader #prince zuko atla x reader #atla prince zuko x reader #atla x reader #x reader #atla #avatar the last airbender #lok #legend of korra

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nutty1005 · 4 years

Text

Xiao Zhan: Learning to Live with Different Opinions

Original Article: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/kFwWw70e6UvJ75egnRe7BA This article is published by Blogger World 博客天下 Weixin. This is also part of the article published in Blogger World 《博客天下》2020 8th Issue.

Giving others the space and freedom to voice different opinions is also a form of respect. Accepting criticisms during growth, displaying kindness in adversity.

Eye of the Storm

Acting is a profession, once you become famous, you will be labelled as “a celebrity” and you become a public figure, but in essence, you are still an average person. Just like everyone else during the pandemic period, they still need to stay quarantined at home and consider their daily meals.

“Celebrity” Xiao Zhan, who has a huge fan following, was also at home catching up on the movies on his to-watch list, watching dramas, reading, practicing his culinary skills – his work was no longer as tightly scheduled as before. This was supposed to be a rare relaxation period, but because of the sudden internet controversy, he found himself landed in the midst of public outcry, and this shattered his initial peace.

At first, he was quite confused, although he understood that any public figure would come with some sense of controversy, but when some of the controversy affected his friends and family, he felt that these were unfair to them. This point was something he could not quite understand.

After the passage of time, he slowly calmed down, and he attempted to learn to live with these different opinions. He feels that giving others the space and freedom to voice different opinions is also a form of respect, and he will accept criticisms during growth, and display kindness in adversity.

After a problem appears, the best method is to resolve the problem, and not to create another problem. This problem will obviously inspire fans (of any idol) to reflect on their actions, and consider how to reasonably handle themselves as a fan. At the same time, artists will also consider how to handle their relationships with their fans, and their teams will need to be more precise in their work. Whereas to the general public, when viewing the whole incident rationally, this can be also considered to be a part of creating a healthy internet environment.

Chance

When some people consider Xiao Zhan as one of the core members of the controversial “traffic” celebrities (TN: Traffic is a term that is used in China to describe idols with a lot of fan following), and lambast him for it, it is necessary to view his journey rationally – understand his chance entry into the entertainment business, and his unique qualities that set him apart from the rest.

Born in 1991, Xiao Zhan is almost 30, but he actually had not been famous for more than a year. Before this, like many other youngsters, he went through high school, university and work life, and never thought that he would become an artist. His university was Chongqing Technology and Business University; he majored in graphic design; while schooling he had received titles such was “Advanced Literary Individual” and “Excellent Team Member”, and also participated in the charity poster design competition organized by his university, winning awards “First Standard Award” and “Most Popular Award”; he even started his own studio with his friends. As such, it can be said that he went through a complete university education, and hence he has a certain amount of knowledge literacy.

After graduating in 2014, he worked for almost a year in a design firm. In June of the second year, because he loved singing, he joined a variety show “X-Fire”《燃烧吧少年》, in hopes of being seen by more people. This was not an easy part of his life – he had to learn dancing with zero foundation, stretching, memorizing movements, with great difficulty. Finally, he debuted as a member of the X-NINE X玖少年团 boyband.

That year, he was 25, and this fulfilled the lyrics of a song by Stefanie Sun – “The 25 year old me, there are differences now.” Then, he thought 25 years old was far away, but in the end it was really different.

However, at that point in time, China talent search variety shows did not have the popularity it would have later on, hence he was not popular upon debut – there was a period of dormancy. In the years following that, he switched paths to become an actor, and participated in web dramas, television dramas, as well as a minor role in the movie “Monster Hunt” 《捉妖记》, totaling a number of 7 to 8 shows. Because he did not come from an acting background, he felt inferior to his partners, who graduated from acting schools, during the shoots. During this period of time, he also doubted his decisions, and wondered if he had a future.

Later on, in the interview with Ren Min Wang 人民网 “Friendly Chat” 《友聊》 he said, “If initially I knew that I would later on go through so much things, I might retreat.” This is actually very similar with the encounters of many other actors, from low to high, from silent to outstanding, experience, works and reputation all have to go through an accumulation process.

At that time, he already had fans, although not too many. In his Weibo, he once had a post that was meant to communicate with his fans, named “Secret Garden”, to tell one another stories, encourage and comfort one another – it was a type of positive interaction.

Fame

The true fame came on the June of 2019. The web drama “The Untamed”, where he starred as the leading actor, aired. This drama came with a fan following from the novel it was based on, and with exquisite production quality, good acting portrayal and performance, this drama became the hottest drama of that year. It scored 7.7 in Douban (TN: Somewhat like China IMDB), which was considered above average in China, and it is worthy as a piece of “work” – although Xiao Zhan said in this interview, “Currently, I don’t think I have any piece of noteworthy work, hence I cherish every opportunity to participate in creative work.”

From this, he obtained a huge reputation, his fan size grew multi-fold, and this objectively created more difficulties for his team working behind him. From a commoner to an artist, and then to a celebrity, based on Xiao Zhan’s behavior, he is careful and cautious. When interviewed by China Youth Papers 《中国青年报》, he said “When I encounter difficulties, I will not give up easily, I will think of ways to resolve it”; “Respect everyone around me, I have to uphold the heart to honor and respect everyone around me.” When interviewed by Guang Ming Times《光明日报》, he hoped “the works that he participated in could transmit some positive values.”

At the end of last year, in CCTV Movie Channel, he also reviewed his legendary experience of 2019, “There are no adjectives to describe my 2019, hence I will say thank you, thank you to all the experiences, to all that I have.” He never talks about what role he is most satisfied with, but only that he could do better, “maybe it could be the next one”. At the same time, he expressed that he will put the focus of his career in 2020 on acting, “to an actor, works are my foundation.” This clearly shows that he is clear about his own acting career.

But evidently, the start of this year was not smooth sailing for him. This internet controversy, as a related party, he received numerous criticisms, whether with good or bad intentions, and how he viewed this whole incident, what psychological process he went through, how a public figure should bear the social responsibility, and what his next steps are…

For this, the aim of this Blogger World interview with Xiao Zhan is to “understand the problem, obtain a common understanding”.

Understood Some Things

(TN: R = Reporter, XZ = Xiao Zhan)

R: Earlier when the pandemic was at its peak, what were you busy with?

XZ: Quarantine, just like everyone else during the pandemic period. I remember it was during Chinese New Year period, following the news, seeing the medical personnel fighting at the forefront. It was especially touching when you see that they were relentlessly fighting even though they were facing a lack of medical supplies. At that time, I spoke with my staff, thought about wanting to do something, and do what I can. After the discussion to decide what to donate, we started contacting the relevant suitable organizations, communicate on what was needed, etc.

Besides this, I also received invitations to record ID videos to cheer on Wuhan and songs to beat back the pandemic. Because the songs required more professional equipment, hence I remember around the end of January, we went to the recording studio. At that time, the pandemic was at its critical period, to ensure safety, there were very limited staff on site, everyone were wearing masks, everything was strictly disinfected, every staff had to perform multiple roles, but we finished the recording with high efficiency. To me, this was a very special experience. Other then that, I was quarantined at home.

R: When you were at home, how was your daily life? How did you spend the time?

XZ: Actually just like everyone else, watch the news, watch dramas, watch movies, read books and rest. It is also quite inconvenient to order takeouts during quarantine period, hence I also trained my culinary skills. Just right at the time there were charity events to aid the farmers, hence I bought some fruits and farm products.

R: Were you concerned with the daily changes of the pandemic, what did you feel and think about?

XZ: Of course I did, I was following up on the pandemic news everyday, there were many moments that touched me. Previously there was this piece of news, a pair of husband and wife, there were both medical staff at the forefront, recognized each other despite wearing isolation robes and hugged together, that scene of reunion touched me very much. But at the same time, I saw that there were a lot more people who needed assistance, and I also felt personally that what one person can do is very limited, and I did too little.

R: When the internet controversy happened, what were you doing, what was your initial reaction, and what happened after?

XZ: I was quarantined at home at that time, when I first saw it I was extremely surprised, why there were suddenly so much topics, felt a bit confused, and understood it later like everyone else. Actually with regards to controversy, as a public figure, I was willing to bear these controversy, but some of them affected my friends and family, I felt that these were unfair to them. I could not quite understand (why they did this). And that point in time was the most critical period of the pandemic, I did not want my issues to take away too much attention, and bother everyone, hence I did not make much responses. Later on, my friends also gave me advice, and this period gave me more time to ponder over it, I also went out to do voice overs, in preparation for my future jobs, slowly I understood some things, so after a while, I started to slowly calm down.

R: You once said that in order to survive in society, one needs to learn to be complex, do you realize the complexity even more so now? Where there any changes to your life views?

XZ: There is definitely complexity, I do not think this is anything bad. Facing complex situations, we do not have the ability to force any changes, but I feel, as long as we maintain the most initial kindness and purity, work hard to do the best for the things we have decided. I have always upheld these principles, and these are also what I want to do.

R: Do you feel misunderstood? How do you adjust yourself?

XZ: It is still the same phrase from the previous interview, “When serious – work, when confused – read, when alone – think, when upset – sleep.” Actually I think this phrase can be used to aptly describe my condition for the past few months.

R: After a period of time, how do you feel about the controversy now?

XZ: We need to learn to live with different opinions, and also respect everyone’s rights to voice theirs. But this world is like this, there is a balance of energy, there are those who love you, who like you, at the the same time there will be people who hates you, who dislikes you. Giving others the space and freedom to voice different opinions is also a form of respect. Accepting criticisms during growth, displaying kindness in adversity.

No one likes you for no reason

R: We will talk about your experiences as an artist, when did you realize that you are famous? How did you feel?

XZ: Last summer, after seeing that there were more people who supported and liked me, very thankful and grateful. My father told me since young “no one likes you for no reason”, hence I hope I can live up to everyone’s like.

R: When you first entered the entertainment business, what goal did you hope to attain?

XZ: Actually my thoughts were very simple then, that is work hard to do the best in the competition, and hope to receive more recognition.

R: In being an artist, what did you feel is the most toilsome?

XZ: Every profession has its own toils, I treat my work very seriously, hardship is actually something you cannot avoid. If I really have to say something as toilsome, then it will be how I face the complex environment.

R: Many felt that you became famous overnight, but actually you already participated in several different dramas, how was your condition like then? What desires did you have for the future?

XZ: Actually there were not much difference, previously I just hoped that I always have jobs, have the opportunity to contact better roles, now is just work seriously, act properly, live everyday to the fullest. Continue on the path of an actor.

R: How did you learn performance? Where there any experience that was especially memorable?

XZ: At the start, I had no concept with regards to performance, later on I also took performance classes, with directions from performance teachers. The experience that was especially memorable was during the shooting of “The Wolf”, there was a crying scene on the highlands, a night scene, and it needed to rain, but that time, no matter what I did, I could not cry.

R: What do you think the relationship of front stage and back stage is?

XZ: I feel that front stage and back stage is not a type of relationship, but is the same job. Without the serious work and support of the backstage, the front stage will not be able to become better.

R: The character Wei Wuxian gave you a lot of glory as well as some controversy, how did you view the role?

XZ: I treat every role I have acted in seriously and with deep respect, because their story are all alternate lives that I would never experience. And portraying these characters, I really hoped that we can achieve success mutually, and win the recognition and love from the audience. I am lucky and thankful to have participated in a part of Wei Wuxian’s life, and this role also became an important part of my acting career. Also I am very grateful to the hard work from all the staff as part of this creative work, and gifted this character vitality. All these creative artists gave me the chance, and allowed me as an actor, using my own thoughts and performances, to bring forth the character Wei Wuxian, even more vividly in front of the general audiences.

R: With regards to “work”, how do you define it?

XZ: I feel that a piece of work is not just the result of a person’s hard work, behind it are also everyone’s sacrifices and creation. Currently, I don’t think I have any piece of noteworthy work, hence I cherish every opportunity to participate in creative work, and also treat every job seriously, in the future I will do my best in singing and acting.

R: The journey of fame, how did you establish your confidence, from inexperience to mature?

XZ: It is definitely a slow process. Actually it is just like that lyric in my new song “All traces passed by turned into light spots.” That is when you encounter difficulties, from it you learn and grow, the accumulation of every step, you are always on the path of growing.

R: In facing the exhaustion from work, the disturbances from the outside world, do you feel that fame is a double edged sword? How do you hope to be viewed by the outside world?

XZ: I feel that anything has its pros and cons, I have already learnt to handle it with common sense, I hope that I am still the same initial me, to be able to maintain humility and politeness.

R: Are you afraid of the uncertainty of life? Do you have insecurities?

XZ: Of course I am. Life is made up of a lot of uncertainties, many times I would also feel insecure, but isn’t the unknown life’s greatest challenge? The feeling of “singing as you walk” is great.

Be yourself, actions speak louder than words

R: You once said in an interview that you do not want to be a perfect person, can you explain what you meant?

XZ: I feel that no one can be perfect, neither can I.

R: Actor, artist and traffic celebrity, what do you think the difference are in these terms?

XZ: Actor is my career, artist and traffic celebrity, to me, are just a label, that is on every public figure. I will do the best for my job, in the future I will be even more serious in my singing, acting, and continue to bear whatever social responsibility I should bear.

R: You once said that communication is very important, now that you are too famous, will this bring about difficulties in communication?

XZ: The changes in my identity definitely brought along some inconveniences, but to my friends, my family and me, the communication has always remained the same. In facing those who like me and support me, I feel that I am communicating with them via my works, hence I will humbly accept all good intent criticisms and corrections on my profession.

R: You did not change your Weibo account after your debut, and also said that that you are very real, and you want to show everyone the real you. To the public who do not understand you, what do you have to say?

XZ: I always said, I am not a perfect person, but that does not prevent me from working hard towards becoming a better person. I am a more direct person, I also wanted to present the real me to everyone, hence I never considered changing my Weibo account, those were all my experiences and memories, the testament to my growth. I will not use youth or commoner as an excuse.

I started using Weibo when I was 19 or 20 years old, when I was still young and a commoner, and I said some very inappropriate words or opinions that are unacceptable now, and it probably did cause trouble or hurt to others. Hence I also wanted to say, after reflecting, to those who were hurt by these opinions, I express my most sincere apologies. If I could use my current experience and sensibleness back then, I would definitely respect everyone’s effort in their work, and will not comment rashly.

R: Your Weibo used to be very lively, full of witty words, you also liked to snatch the top comment on your own posts, and interacted with your fans, but later on, these posts were generally non existent, almost as if your image became flat, how do you feel?

XZ: Just representing myself only, I feel that the image on social media cannot encompass an entire person, that is only an outlet. I am always willing to communicate with everyone, but I am also afraid to bother others, if the effect of bother becomes greater than sharing, that would be something that I very much would not want to see.

#xiao zhan #sean xiao #xiaozhan #肖战

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years

Text

Starcrossed Losers 2.IV (Josh Wheeler xF!Reader)

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long omg I’m the worst. Let me know if I forgot to tag you or if you wanna be tagged -Danny

Words: 2,022

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to me!

I guess you're all expecting me to say something about what happened. I should, after all, I hid this piece of information from you, not that I owe it to you, but I guess it's confusing...

'More than just a dream...'

Josh and I are still holding hands while we start the tour, and I wish I could say I was feeling bad about it but to be honest I'm still way too drunk on the bliss to be ashamed. I felt bad though, I did promise Nathan a date before everything went to hell. As a matter of fact, he was going to be my homecoming date.

Where to start? Perhaps you'd like to know who Nathan was in my group of friends? Easy.

*Throwback time*

Nathan was the 'popular' of our group. Do you know how there's always that one friend that seems to know everyone for really strange reasons? The one that 'knows a guy, that knows a guy, that has a cousin'... that's Nathan.

He was also the good looking guy of our group. I know I said Alex was attractive, but man, Nathan was the real deal, he had charisma and a great smile, try to beat that when you're sixteen and have zero social skills.

I didn't have a crush on him though, but it was a very well thought decision like I said before, I wasn't going to let someone close to me break my heart, and both Nathan and Alex were too close, so I buried those thoughts about him before I could even consider it.

I never had a thing for him until... well, until he asked me to homecoming. I never knew why he asked me, I mean sure we were good friends but he never tried to make a move (and this is not me being oblivious this is me saying Nathan never even commented on my looks not even once). While I do remember having said to him something along the lines of "you're so pretty you annoy me" one night while I was completely shitfaced.

He laughed it off then, not bringing it up to tease me the next morning. He knew he was attractive and I certainly used to dream about dashing men like him coming to take me out for a ride or a movie, but I never thought that it'd be him the one who would ask me out.

'All the days I waited for you You know the ones who said I'd never find someone like you'

Then the end of the world happened and we never went to homecoming, yet we remained on the same group until one day he just vanished. No notes, no nothing. He left. He was also the first one to go, followed by Aria, then Phillip, then Lily, until we were just Maya, Alex and I, you know the rest.

We heard about Nathan a few weeks later though, the first loner on Glendale (Josh was very good at keeping a low profile, we didn't know he was by himself) and I thought it was a great idea to do the same, you know, follow the loner's path until I had Katie back... and you know how that turned out.

My point is, how was I supposed to know he was going to come back and still ask me for a date? What kind of person does that?

"Here we have the Cheeramazon division," Josh pointed to the sports section of the mall. "We teach sign language for those who are interested in learning, it's also handy for communicating while we're outside on a Ghoulie area..."

"Why're they here?" Nathan asked in a voice that was completely unlike him. "I mean, I know their old place got trashed but why haven't they looked for a new place?"

"They don't have enough people or resources," I replied. "They'll wait here until enough girls decide to join them or until they get enough food to survive on their own."

"And you guys are okay with that?"

"Good relationships with old tribes are everything," I shrugged. "We want to keep it friendly with everyone, we don't want to start another war."

"Really? Because you seemed ready to go out and set houses on fire five minutes ago," Josh replied sternly.

"That's different!" I scoff. "Those kids need our help and you know it!"

"What kids?" Nathan asked in curiosity.

"Are you familiar with the AV club?" I ask him.

"The kids with the podcast?"

"Exactly! They've been kidnapped and I've been trying to convince my tribe to go out and look for them but they refuse–"

"Because we're barely recovering from Triumph," Josh interrupted. "Listen Y/N, we can't be heroes fighting against some kids in suits..."

"Here we have the gamer's layer," I continue, forcing them to leave the subject. "But you don't have to write that down, they're leaving in a few days to their old cave. Been here to help us with some tech stuff..."

"Those over there are the X-jocks," Josh points over a couple of kids playing and exercising at the other side of the mall, "they followed Turbo after he was kicked out. They're no longer Jocks, but they don't want to be called Daybreakers either."

"They don't wanna mingle with all the weirdos, apparently," I roll my eyes.

"We have a healers division, which is coordinated by Y/N," Josh puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles. "She's great... a training division that Wesley and Turbo handle... Am I missing something?"

"The Daybreakers, which are lead by this loser," I look at Josh with a smirk. "He schedules our vigilance system, the hunts– Oh, and the weekly competitions."

"What are those about?"

"We organize tournaments and the awards are free days from working or having to go outside, stuff like that."

"Okay," Nathan nods, writing everything down. "I think that's all..."

"Cool," Someone calls Josh and he looks back at us. "Can you finish the tour on your own?"

"I– Yeah, okay," I reply anxiously. "See you in a while..."

Josh gives me a quick kiss and leaves to where he's needed, leaving me alone with Mister 'U-owe-me-a-date'.

"So..." I awkwardly start.

"I think I owe you an apology," He replies immediately.

"What?"

"I didn't know you and Josh... what I said was completely out of place anyway, who asks that kind of stuff to someone they haven't seen in months? I–"

"Nathan," I stop him, "It's okay, really, you didn't know, it's alright."

"I'm sorry," He repeats, this time calmer. "I ditch you and the group, I just... I don't know, I felt stuck..."

"I get that, we left too, eventually," I shrug. "Went to look for my sister, but... she died."

"Oh," He frowns. "I'm so sorry... was she–?"

"A Ghoulie, yeah," I sigh. "It's okay, I'm better now, I have this place and I have..."

"Josh..."

"I was going to say I have a sledgehammer, but sure," I joke.

He smiles and suddenly I remember why I used to like his smile so much. It really is quite dreamy.

'And you were out of my league All the things I believed You were just the right kind Yeah, you were more than just a dream'

"Those kids..." He mentions. "The AV club?"

"Yeah?" My heart jumps at the mention. "Do you know anything about them? Anything that could help?"

"No, but Josh mentioned kids in suits? I think I've seen them–"

"Y/N!" Josh runs back to us in a hurry. "They found them!"

"What? Who?"

"The AV Club!" He replies.

I try to walk over to the gamer's layer but Josh stops me.

"Wait," He holds me in place. "It's an X-Pug zone."

"That, or the kids in suits want us to believe it is," I point out, "Josh let me go! I want to know where it is!"

"We're not taking anyone there! You know we can't, Y/N! We don't have enough people, who knows how many of those are out there..."

I want to argue back but I know that Josh is right.

"Fine," I let go of his arms and he does the same with me. "Can I at least take a look? Maybe one day we'll go and... and just take a look..."

Josh doesn't need me to end the sentence though, he understands.

"Okay," He starts walking when Nathan speaks up.

"Can I see?"

We turn to see him, both wearing the same confused expression.

"It's just..." He moves his weight from one foot to the other. "I was telling Y/N that I've seen those kids before and maybe... I could talk to Sam, maybe she'd like to help?"

I look at Josh with my best puppy eyes and he sighs in defeat, nodding along.

"Fine..."

Nathan catches up with us and grins at me. What I shame I lost my chance with this guy, he looks like straight out of a fantasy, who knows, maybe he was the one meant to be with me if all this apocalypse stuff never happened in the first place...

'You were out of my league Got my heartbeat racing If I die, don't wake me 'Cause you are more than just a dream'

When we arrive Aria takes me directly to her laptop and points to the image in it. I hear her talk to Nathan for a moment while I see the streets and the directions and since I know the whole city by heart it takes me a minute to memorize the whole thing. I don't tell this to Josh, of course.

"Are you going to leave us alone now?" She asks irritatedly.

"Sure thing, you can leave during the night and I wouldn't even bat an eye at it," I reply, still looking at the screen. "Let me just..."

I pull out my phone and take a picture of the screen, is not perfect but it's quick and it's just in case. Josh gives me a warning look but I smile.

"Thank you for doing this," I step closer to him and put my arms around his neck. "See? It didn't kill us to find out, right?"

If I've learned anything in my short stupid life, is that flattery can take you places... and it distracts a boy's brain faster than anything else.

Josh smiles at me and I know I have his whole attention, so I quickly put my phone away.

"Anyway!" I break the spell and look at the gamers. "You guys did a good job, I'll leave you now. Nathan, let me walk you to the door..."

Halfway to the entrance, Nathan speaks.

"You're so not going to listen to what Josh told you to do. I know it, I can see it in your face."

"How long till I can hear from you and Sam?" I ask him in a business-like voice.

"A day, maybe two?"

"You think she'll help?"

"That if we can push Maya to a side."

"Don't mention my name and you'll have a bigger chance to succeed."

I stop at the door and turn to look at him decidedly.

"You have no idea how much this means to me."

"If you're risking your stay at the mall and your relationship with Josh, I assume a lot," He raises a brow.

"He won't kick me out for this," I roll my eyes.

"He's your leader, Y/N."

I remember that none of our feelings ever stopped Josh from kicking me out the first time. So he's not entirely wrong.

"Don't sweat it," Nathan shakes his head, "I'll do my best to keep everyone happy, just like you've been doing for the last few weeks. Consider this my thank you gift for all the hard work you've been doing, Vinchi."

"Oh," I cringe. "I don't really go by that nickname anymore..."

"Oh, sorry," He pouts. "Just Y/N, then?"

"Unless you have a new nickname for me," I grin.

Nathan tilts his head like he's considering what I'm saying.

"I'll think about it," He smiles.

"I'll see you in two days," I smile back.

'Yeah, you were more than just a dream...'

Taglist.

@letsbe-queer @slythermyg @loving-u-3000 @one-loud-mind

#twoidiots writing #daybreak fanfic #daybreak #josh wheeler #josh wheeler xreader #Starcrossed fic

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eutaerpe · 5 years

Text

the kim social test

pairing — jungkook x reader

word count — 15.4k

genre/warnings— fluff, friends to lovers au. domestic!jungkook, jungkook in a towel, kissing, mentions of sex. and they were roommates! trope, namjoon is attractive (even though we all knew this), mentions of drinking because Taehyung creates the Kim Social Test while drunk and Jimin prompts to get wasted maybe more than once. who knows. rom com undertones?

summary — “I’m moving out.” These are the first words Jungkook hears on a fatal Thursday morning, hands holding onto the kitchen counter. A mixed feeling paints his expression. “I know we haven’t talked about this, but I think we both know that it’s the right thing to do. I can’t stay here anymore.”

alternatively, “it takes more than five exhibits for you to prove that Jungkook is a zero, according to the Kim Social Test”.

notes — i accidentally started writing this in first person. 3k words into the story i realized my mistake lmao i thought about changing it, but it would have affected the writing style of TKST which was supposed to be a short thing about jungkook and the reader shy panicking, moving in together, becoming friends and guk eventually getting a blowjob. life really be like that sometimes, huh? anyway i hope you all don’t mind because tkst is my baby ♥︎ it might be flawed and i, for myself, can already see space for improvement. reading my a smoking party draft, i can see how much i’ve improved. this style is something fresh and new for me lol i’m so excited to share something i’ve worked on since january. let me know what you think ♥︎

THE KIM SOCIAL TEST

(or “it takes three attempts to realize that Taehyung can be, indeed, right too”)

“I’m moving out”

These are the first words Jungkook hears on a fatal Thursday morning, hands holding onto the kitchen counter.

A mixed feeling paints his expression.

“I know we haven’t talked about this, but I think we both know that it’s the right thing to do,” I add, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “I can’t stay here anymore.”

“So, you’re moving out. Definitely,” he ruffs his own hair, voice steady and low, his typical morning voice. Even though it seems like he’d like to add more — start asking questions, clear any doubt — I interrupt him, trying to sound as firm as possible.

“Absolutely,” then he nods, slowly, “I’m moving out.”

HYPOTESYS: JUNGKOOK IS A ONE

— 6 months earlier —

It starts like this.

“I’m moving out,” I declare, as Jimin opens a bottle of beer. “Tomorrow, as a matter of fact.”

Taehyung beams, excited, “Y/N! That’s amazing!” - he engulfs me in a friendly hug, laughing openly - “With this short notice? Fucking fantastic. Where are you going to stay, then?”

I see Jimin filling our glasses, a satisfied smile on his lips, too.

I can’t help but sigh at the sight. Things are going to run smoothly from now on. I can feel it. All according to my plan, nevertheless. God knows how much I wanted that job - (“Hello, Namjoon! Yes, it’s still me, any news on the… yes, I know, trust me, I know it’s only been a couple days, yes, they usually take a week or two to choose the interns, let alone the newcomers… That can do! What’s four, five more days? I can wait for weeks. It’s not like I have a place on the line. Or my whole life. Mhm. Yeah. Yes,” smiling sardonically, I start tapping my fingers on the desk, “Always a sweetheart. Thank you again, Namjoon!”) - wanted out of that small, reeking apartment I had, up until yesterday, to share with two guys I hope I’ll never meet again in my life (as Jimin once said, get wasted with me and you’ll forget them. As Taehyung once replied, have sex with me and you’ll even forget your own name. I agreed to the first reasonable proposal, but apparently even getting drunk with Jimin doesn’t help. Especially if, after the second Negroni, sometime before sipping from the glass Jager, you stop thinking clearly and end up at your place with a heavy Jimin partially covering your figure. Ergo, we went home. We woke up with a terrible headache just as my I’d-rather-forget roommate greeted us, more than partially naked, definitely wasted, absolutely stenching).

“I-uh, I think you know the guy? At least, mentioned him a couple of times over the years? Jeon Jungkook?”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, tongue wetting the upper lip. “The Jeon Jungkook?”

“Roommate of Min Yoongi? The one and only?”

“Yeah, he’s leaving for an internship abroad he didn’t think would win, so he left Jungkook with such a short notice he had to actually go look for someone to pay half the rent with,” I explain, “What’s up with the tone, though? He seemed nice. Over the phone he almost sounded shy. And I’m the one saying he seemed shy. I couldn’t talk to any of you for the first weeks of high school even though we walked the same way home and had known each other for years. Me!”

“The chances of Jungkook being shy are the same as me being a virgin,” Jimin explains, rolling his eyes.

I furrow my forehead. Things don’t add up. “I don’t believe you,” My purple haired friend drops dramatically his head on his hands, “Not the virgin part, I know you won’t tell me whom you had your first time with, which, by the way, rude, but I’m pretty sure there has been one to begin with— “

“Trust me, there’s been even more than one with that same person.”

“Taehyung, gross,” I exclaim, “Not the point. I’m not interested in your sexual life— “

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” Tae shrugs. Jimin groans. I close my eyes, red staining my cheeks—See? Shy! I told them. I’m the shy one. And I can sense a shy one around me. Jungkook gives off this… timid vibe. I’m sure of it, I can’t be wrong, for God’s sake.

“I don’t believe you, at all. Twenty bucks says the guy’s a timid, socially awkward introvert too nervous to muster up the courage to even talk to me.”

They look at me in disbelief. I can’t believe them. I have good instincts. They know it, too. So what? They mentioned the guy a few times over the years. It’s inevitable—they’re friendly, outgoing, extroverts. They know people. They inevitably bump into people when they’re out partying and going to class and joining groups and going to the gym.

Apparently, there are people who can juggle between three different activities while at college. Activities that don’t include showing up to classes, calling your mother at least once a week, and searching for a job. Duh. Who knew?

People nowadays judge before getting to know others. It’s something millennials and elders have in common, every now and then.

Plus, rumours are worse than the Black Plague. You wake up and tell a friend you feel this is your lucky day, then it turns out people say you got up flexing on how you got lucky. And you had your walk of shame. While sore. And naked. Because in this fucked-up scenario, you’re born confident in your own body. And your walk of shame is very valid, even though it’s in your own house. (Read: this is a fucked-up scenario) Gasp! How rumours fly. How much stories are accurately changed and automatically deterred with a simple misunderstanding.

It’s 2019, for Christ’s sake. Give the kid the benefit of the doubt.

“Agreed,” Jimin says, a smug grin on his lips, right before Taehyung shakes my hand, smirking openly.

EXHIBIT A

Okay, so. In hindsight, it’s 2019. Never trust first impressions. Or your superb instincts.

Jungkook? Older than me. Just slightly, however. Bigger than me. Bulkier than what I imagined him to be. Sure, he had a sweet voice but what’s the point, huh, when you’re almost six feet tall and as intimidating as Jimin when he’s dancing? Or Tae when he plays the piano?

“I call bullshit, what the fuck,” I hiss, holding onto my phone, “You agreed to this even after I told you ‘I can’t believe you, you’re fucking making this up’?”

“Especially after that,” Tae sighs, and I want to punch him, “I can’t say no to free money. Well, fairly earned money.”

“Where’s fairness in all this? You let me move in. With a guy. That is—how can I say this?”

“Hot? Very fuckboy-ish?”

I refrain myself from answering. What have I gotten myself into? So much for things finally running smoothly.

“Very Not Shy,”

“Oh, what a curious phrasing. Have you talked to him yet? Or better—proved my Kim Social Test right?”

The Kim Social Test – also widely known among your friends as the infamous Kim Taehyung’s third attempt to be right – is something he made up while tipsy (because he can’t possibly hold his liquors, although one would never hear this coming out from Taehyung’s own mouth), frowning and frustrated. It’s more like an investigation of all sorts aimed to prove one’s social skills, ranking from one, id est a nice, cute introvert who, given the chance, will surprise you, to twenty-three, as in the years Tae and Jimin had known each other when Tae made this test up. Not that I’ll ever admit it to him, but I suppose there’s partial truth somewhere in between all those steps, fuelled by the dark-haired friend of mine’s interest in psychology, reverse psychology, communication, and his instincts.

Step one: talk to the person in question.

Step one failed.

Unless Jungkook’s the one trying to test the KST on me.

“What I’m trying to say,” I begin, unsure, “Is that he smiled. Offered to help with my things. Explained how things work here – anything from the absurd no dating slash no couples! policy, to how to deal with neighbours. Turns out that the landlord is staying on the floor below ours, while the landlord’s son in on the floor above. But I’m digressing,” Taehyung snorts, the great friend, “He was being nice—borderline over friendly, then said not to mind his absence, every now and then, because he needs to de-stress, if I know what he means, and I’m always free to try his car with, uh, him, if I know what he means.”

“So, your paranoid ass is trying to tell me he hit on you twice?”

“I’m finally out of that squalid place even you promptly detested and I knock into this splendid flat – you should see how neat and spacious it is – only for it to be inhabited by some horny guy who’s keen on getting laid. Tell me how I should feel, Taehyung.”

Taehyung stays silent for a hot second, slightly worrying me that he hung up on me.

“I’ll tell you what,” – the best friend suggests, while I start twisting my ring – “Jiminie and I are coming over this evening. He’ll see us, he’ll understand, he’ll back off. In this precise order. You in?”

“Roger that, captain.”

This prompts Taehyung’s laugh, loud and dazzling, the comforting noise filling my ears.

EXHIBIT B

Step one: talk to the person in question.

A month ago, this mere action would have terrified me. Which is a solemn hypocrite thing of me to think, now, because, as a matter of fact, it threw me off. Not one bit of me was safe and sound, after I non-talked to Jungkook when I moved in. I didn’t think I’d ever muster up the courage to converse to him—maybe just to politely decline his feeble and frantic advance.

(“Fuck, you’re so dramatic,” were Jimin’s first words when I opened the door that night. Maybe so, Park.)

However, I was substantially right. I soon realized that maybe my roommate – twenty-two, almost 6 feet tall, shows a playful tendency to wear only commonly dark clothes – really is shy. After Jimin and Taehyung came over, that very same day, he turned into a mess, avoiding altogether eye contact with me, backing away even when my friends – not anymore concerned – offered him dinner.

A spur of bravado, we agreed later on that day. Known that – understanding that maybe he was just as excited and terrified about the new intruder as I was—made us magically forget altogether about that small… incident. About the awkward spur of bravado, I mean.

“Tough Tuesday shift?”

Jungkook is spread on the couch, his long form lost among all the cushions. He’s holding what I assume are papers he needs to grade, several of them scattered on the coffee table before a mug of tea and three red pens. Being an assistant teacher suits him, in a way. He’s tidy, neat, precise – I’ll never stop repeating this sudden realization in my mind. He revealed, on a late night, the movie long forgotten, that doing the laundry calms his nerves. Can’t quite believe that this is the same person who implied he needed sex to relax.

“Let’s say Namjoon doesn’t forget easily,” I try to joke as he grins warmly, adjusting on the couch so that he faces me more comfortably. He studies me as I take off my coat, his inquiring gaze following every move I make – including me staring back at him.

“Seokjin-hyung came by, an hour ago or so,” he announces, passing a hand on the dark grey sweater hugging his torso, “Left something he prepared because he’s convinced I can’t cook. The very same person who taught me how to properly feed myself—can you believe it?”

Although his tone is teasing, tainted by almost pure disbelief, he keeps on grinning. I chuckle. “Yeah, how rich of him.”

“If you’re not planning anything, we could have real dinner together. Finish Haikyuu!’s third season on the couch. We could even just complain about your boss, really. If you’re up for it, I mean,” he rubs the nape of his neck, discarding on the coffee table the papers that moments ago he was holding.

That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’s his very own person, discreet, kind, nonetheless quiet. He does things a lazy eye wouldn’t even notice; someone uncaring would not bat their eyes at his deep, silent actions that speak more than words could ever. It’s more than just wearing his heart on his sleeve – it’s caring and being attentive not just because sometimes it’s convenient or it casually happens. There’s meaning beside his every action, led by his desire to truly be helpful. I can’t shake the feeling that he’s really not the person people make him out to be, and I mentally scoff at Tae and Jimin’s antics when I said ‘Jeon Jungkook?’ and they had answered with ‘The Jeon Jungkook?’, staining his… persona. His kind soul.

I hum, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, it sounds amazing. I’d like that.”

His bunny smile makes a bashful appearance.

***

Step two: pay attention to the body language. Spot the differences between how the person in question talks and acts.

The first time I hear about Mina it’s on a Wednesday afternoon, and Jungkook’s not home.

Following Namjoon around for the entire day meant that the smart, charming new leader of the Publishing Department – a promotion he got a few days after I became his colleague – got, at the same time, amused by my… consistency and tired of having me as his new shadow.

He, of course, understands what it means to be new, fresh out of college and passionate about my new job and has tried, for the past few days, to challenge my abilities – perhaps soon, yes, but the glint in Namjoon’s dark eyes tells me that he sees in me the same young guy he was himself, not even a long time ago. Hence the try-doing-this-on-your-own with its thrilling sequel I’ll-be-here-when-you’re-done he’s thrown on me lately.

Which is a nice way of saying you’ve become bearable but as the new leader I’ve got more work on my hands, so I can’t guide you through this new world slash don’t make me regret trusting you. I swear, this man has a way with words Hemingway could never.

Anyway, this explains why I’m working on this novel – the debut work of a young writer Namjoon firmly believes in – in our living room, laptop on my thighs and manuscript in my hands. On a Wednesday afternoon. Alone. Because Jungkook’s Wednesdays are, in this order, full of assholes actual-professors that expect the most from him, gym, kick boxing with Yugyeom, and finally coming back home to hit the shower and fucking rest.

Apparently, however, Yoongi isn’t aware of his former roommate’s schedule, because he’s Skype-calling him, in this very moment. I’m not snooping into his stuff, not at all, it’s just that the last time they did this – having a video call like two adorable siblings – Jungkook used my laptop and forgot to log out. Which is a very good explanation for why Min Yoongi’s eyes are staring into mine.

“Y/N?”

“Hi,” I splutter, as surprised as he sounded. “Seems like Guk forgot to log out since you last talked.”

“Oh,” he murmurs, hands in his wet, mint hair. “Is he home? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him, but the kid’s been avoiding all my calls.”

That doesn’t sound like Jungkook. Sure, he’s not winner of the year for the fastest replier ever existed, but in decent time – which can vary between two hours and two days – he gets the message (pun intended) and decides to grace his acquaintances with an answer. Or a call back.

“No—Wednesdays are usually the worst week-days for him,” as I explain, though, I can’t help but notice the deep sigh Yoongi exhales. Or the tiredness of his expression. “…but as soon as I see him, I can deliver a message for you, if you want? He’s gonna be tired, no joke, but I’ll make him call you back, I promise.”

The sympathetic smile he sends my way makes me want to punch my roommate. Which would probably hurt like hell, if the ungodly hours he spends at the gym are anything to go by.

Still: Min Yoongi being exhausted because of him is a good reason why I should at least try to hit him. Min Yoongi is Jimin’s… idol, famous in the music department with a deceiving reputation of being anything but sociable. Wrong, terribly wrong. He’s not. He’s a small loving and caring friend in the body of a small human. The amount of times he called to make sure Jungkook was okay is— truly admirable. (He even helped Jimin with a project of his, once. Hence the epithet of the one and only. I have a terrific theory of him being somehow linked to my Jimin, but no one has still dared to answer me. Jerks. Tae and him both.)

“Sure. Tell him his to talk to his girlfriend. I’m tired of having her blabbing no stop about how much of a jerk he’s turned into lately and disputing whether declining her calls means he’s cheating on her or a strategy of his that will end with Jungkook surprising her on their anniversary.”

Wait, what?

“Jungkook has a girlfriend? He’s in a… romantic relationship that doesn’t involve playing Overwatch with Taehyung on Friday nights?”

“You don’t know about Mina?”

“What the fuck is a Mina?”

He stills for a second. “I… I don’t understand. Are you shitting me?”

“I’m not. I know there’s a strict rule about not bringing your dates over and not fucking in this apartment, but I’ve never heard of her. He never mentioned her. I’ve never seen this girl, never even knew she existed before you told me.”

Yoongi begins scratching his forearms. He tilts his head, staring into the void of his room.

“What the fuck,” is the final summary of his train of thoughts. Yeah, what the hell. “I’m not sure I want to be part of this helping circle anymore. We always joked that Jungkook would turn out to be the reason why Jin-hyung will have grey hair, but I never imagined he’d be mine too. I swear, this kid.”

“I can still talk to him, though. This isn’t lying, not even sure if it counts as lying by omission but…” I shrug, “I don’t know. I’m wondering why he kept his mouth shut.”

Yoongi mutters something I can’t make out, then asks if I can still deliver the message and abruptly ends the conversation.

You live for a month with a guy and think you know him. It stings in a funny way knowing you don’t.

Jungkook finds me on the couch when he comes back home. He has tiredness written all over his face – his crinkled forehead, his sweaty appearance; I can sense it among the silent grunt and deep sighs he exhales thinking I’m not in the living room.

“Hey,” I pout, eyes on the manuscript.

My roommate turns around in a swift move, eyes wide open. “You still up?”

He’s tired. I know he’s tired. His velvet voice doesn’t betray his shape. I don’t buy it.

I hum, turning on the couch so that he can’t see my face, my eyes still on the novel. I can see him pausing and wondering what’s going on in the periphery of my sight.

“Yoongi wants to let you know you should stop ignoring him and your girlfriend so she can stop pestering him. Virtually hugs you and sends a thousand kisses, too.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but then I hear his footsteps and I see him in front of me, licking his lips, lost in his thoughts. His fingers move continuously on the bag he’s holding. As I focus my gaze on his face, I realise that what hurts more is that he didn’t trust me enough with this information rather than not fully knowing him, my roommate. It doesn’t concern this specific piece of information, per se, more the fact that he didn’t feel comfortable enough in sharing something that is supposed to make him cheerful and proud. Maybe I projected much, I don’t know? Just because you share a flat with someone it doesn’t mean he’s your friend.

“I didn’t mean to keep this a secret—I swear…” he trails off, and I bite back a laugh, delusion hitting me.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jungkook. I’m not your mom and sure as fuck I’m not your confidant. I’m just your roommate. I’m sure it would have come up, if you had to sexile me because of her. Don’t worry,” I spit out, at once regretting my harshness, “I get it.”

“You don’t, though. You don’t know me,” he begins, following me when I get up.

“I know I don’t!”

“I don’t mean it that way, fuck! Y/N!” - he grabs my wrists, eyes darting into mine – “We’re… we’re just in a bad place right now. We needed a pause, I begged for it, but she didn’t want to, so I’m—uhm, choosing not to deal with her at the moment. We’re going through a lot,” he says, pondering his words, thumbs moving on my hands. I freeze at the contact.

“Yoongi doesn’t know. Because she’s mad at me for something that happened a long time ago when we weren’t together. And, fuck, I don’t want Yoongi to think about that time. I don’t want to think about that time. I didn’t think she’d pester him, shit”

The high-pitched laughter he lets out almost frightens me. Jungkook’s fidgeting look pushes me to intertwine our hands. I don’t have time for disbelief towards my own gesture—his former, floating discomfort strays gradually from his body as I do so.

I keep the eye contact with his doe eyes—it happens then. His breathing comes back to normal, his fingers grasp firmly mine. I’m here, I want to say.

I only manage a quiet: “It’s okay. It’s okay, Jungkook” that has him nodding, sure.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” he announces.

“Sure,” I breath out, “Listen. I know I’m not probably the person you’d want to have this conversation with… but if you don’t feel like bothering Yoongi – which you’re not. Unless you call him in the middle of the night – you can always talk to me. Count on me.”

Jungkook pinches the bridge of his noise.

“Wouldn’t it bother you?”

“Of course not, you giant baby.”

He chuckles. “Alright. Wait for me?”

“I’m ready when you are.”

***

“Is there a way to turn sad stories into happy ones?”

My hands fall around the mug. “Have you always been this dramatic or did Yugyeom punch you so hard you’re not well functioning?”

He bites back a laugh. “We both know I’d need a stronger hook to lose consciousness, c’mon.”

“I don’t know,” I play pretend, “The other day Jin barely slapped you and you looked like you wanted to cry.”

“Hey!” his hot cocoa is long forgotten, “I’ll have you know he’s older than me—”

“Oh, so now age matters?”

“—and has been playing kick-boxing for a lot longer than I have. Obviously, he knows what he’s doing!”

“It was just a friendly slap!”

He scoffs, still smiling.

“You know, when Yoongi called he asked me if I knew about Mina and I answered, ‘what the fuck is a Mina?’ which, in hindsight, it’s not a very kind thing to ask.”

Jungkook bursts into a quiet laugh, back against the wall. Maybe being on the carpet isn’t a suiting position to have a talk—about serious matters, too. But Jungkook’s comfortable, and as long as he is, I really don’t care.

It was weird seeing him, even if just for a fraction of a second, losing control.

Maybe he needs a friend more than he knows.

“I met Mina a long time ago. Sophomore year, maybe? I had been dating Sowon for two years then—Sowon and I met in high school, she was my first girlfriend. A bit older than me. When I got into college, we started fighting for the most meaningless things, though. For the last months, ours was an on and off relationship. We broke up and made up all the time; it was actually a relief when we broke up for good. That somehow changed me. I dreaded for anything but a relationship. Jin-hyung likes to say that I turned up to be a handsome fuckboy,” he laughs, staring into the mug, “Yoongi-hyung says it was terrible having me around. I was always off to parties and spent most of my nights in girls’ sororities. I’m not exactly proud of that period. Sowon had disappeared from life by then. I only saw her once again, when she found out I had been sleeping around. I don’t know, she got mad. Really mad. Tried to fuck Yoongi-hyung to get back at me.”

“That’s…” Jungkook looks at me, lips parted. I find out I don’t have it in me to continue my sentence.

“Not ideal, huh?”

“Far from ideal.”

“The hyungs helped a lot, back then. Mina, too. She was one of the girls I had been hooking up with. I can’t say what exactly changed in our relationship, or what she did to make me realize I didn’t want to be careless anymore. One day I started looking at her differently and…” he shrugs, “The rest is history.”

“Damn, and I thought for a solid second that my relationships of five months were a huge fucking goal.” He snickers. “How long have you two been together, then?”

“Two years? No, wait. Almost two years and a half. But lately she’s been hinting that she wants more. Her parents got married very young, and so did her sister. I think she kind of expected me to pop the question, half a year ago. But I haven’t. Which made her think I was cheating on her. Which I’m not. She thinks I’m twenty years old Jungkook all over again. Which, for the third time, I’m not.” He huffs. “I don’t know how to make her understand that we’re young and there’s so much we could be doing rather than worrying about getting married. Christ, I’m twenty-two. I’m barely studying for my master’s degree. She thinks I don’t love her, and it makes me so fucking mad. I begged for a pause. We need some time apart.”

“But you said she refused. Hence why you’re avoiding her.”

“Yeah.” He finishes his hot cocoa off. “Do you think I’m insane for wanting to distance myself for a while?”

“No, I don’t. It may sound cliché, but people who love each other don’t always see eye to eye. They change. Long term relationships require many compromises, and sometimes it’s hard to do that.” I throw my head back against the wall. Jungkook follows my movements with his gaze. “Sometimes you fall out of love, too. Things… happen. People change. There isn’t always a valid reason why. I think that recognizing change is brave. Forcing things to never shift it’s dangerous.”

A peaceful silence falls between our bodies. I can’t help but realize it’s very late. I sneak a look at Jungkook, who’s looking at me with his eyebrows furrowed. I’m glad he decided to trust me.

“You know, for being so short you’ve got an insane amount of wisdom inside of you.”

“Fuck off, Jeon”

He deserves every pillow I’ve thrown him.

EXHIBIT C

“And you expect me to say he’s not a jerk?”

“Well,” Lisa breathes out, downhearted. “I don’t think he knows the very meaning of kindness.”

As an ungainly rustle of papers fills my ears, she exhales, turning to Yuna, a scorn adorning her face.

“Look, have you seen the guy? He’s got a promotion and boom!, there he goes thinking he’s better than all of us combined. Don’t let him get to you, girl. He probably thinks that a discussion on the oxford comma is first date material. Fuck,” she then smiles, a curve void of sympathy, “The guy probably thinks he’s too good for a date. Do you recall the last time he looked as if he fucked someone’s brain out?” Yuna doesn’t answer, instead she opts for smoothing her shirt and Lisa smirks, proud. “My point exactly. He’s a poor jerk. Leave him be.”

It’s not considered eavesdropping if they’re sniping about Namjoon out in the open, right? I’m thrown aback for a solid minute, because, yes, Namjoon is a lot, a deeply wholesome and complex guy to have as your boss, but he’s not that bad. Sure, he has his moments – like any of us has – yet he’s attentive, caring, a tall mentor I’m delighted to have around.

Not to mention the fact that he’s attractive. It’s undeniable. He’s charming because he extrudes confidence when he arguments whilst gesticulating, when he talks back and smiles sharply, when his ideas are picked because original, fresh, on the spot. He trusts and gives, in a manner that can swipe anyone off their feet when adorned with his dimples.

Namjoon’s an attractive man, period.

I frown.

I plop on my chair, coffee in my mug.

Oh my God. Namjoon’s attractive. He’s hot. He’s smart. He’s sarcastic. His humour amazes me first thing in the morning when he hasn’t had his shots of coffee yet and has to talk to people.

Stop, Y/N. Okay, so what? He can be nice to have around. I’m at loss of words – thoughts – when a picture of Namjoon wearing slacks and a white shirt pops in my mind. White shirts fit him so well it’s unreal. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey, Y/N,” a voice startles me and, as my eyes widen, I turn towards the person in question, “Mind helping me with these?”

Namjoon – fit Namjoon, Kim I’m-wearing-beautiful-glasses Namjoon - points to papers a now hidden part of me I know she recognizes, and I find myself nodding like an idiot before I can even think of an eligible answer.

Think of unattractive people. People you’re not attracted to. People you would mind undressing you. Touching you. Hugging you. Think of…Jungkook.

Jungkook isn’t… my type. He’s warm, he’s soft with his bunny smile and happy eyes. He wears dark t-shirts on a daily basis. He snorts when his students write absurdities others would cry for. He once tried to inhale six packs of ramen just because Taehyung dared him to. I mentally chuckle at the memory. Think of Jungkook, I repeat to myself. The same Jungkook that swears when playing Overwatch. The same Jungkook that pouts when he studies and frowns as he focuses so hard.

Jungkook would never slam his partner against the door, hands in their hair. He’d never command them to go down on their knees before him. He’s only been in long term relationships. The guy’s probably not even a fan of PDA.

Jungkook is soft around the edges, and shy and cute and definitely someone I’m not attracted to.

“Sure,” I breathe out, a smile tugging at my lips, “Let me see.”

“So,” Jimin begins in a quiet whisper that has me wondering why he can’t speak out loud, “You want to bone your boss.”

I mentally scold the office policy and its daunting, cryptic suggestion to keep a semi-formal appearance. Which translates into high heels. I have to wear high heels. They would be heels – just heels, comfortable, classy, lovely heels – if only there wasn’t what Jungkook defines as height discrepancy. Which translates into I’m short. And it’s 2019. So short people are expected to be tall, in certain circumstances. Like office attire. Even though, to be honest, it’s also my fault. My fault for being so enamoured with the classy and charming – when I told him, Jungkook sneered so hard I thought he was seconds from combusting – clacking heels make on smooth floors.

“That’s—” absurd, I want to say, but I settle with a mellow “—right.”

He’s not wrong. I am in the wrong, though. I open the front door of our apartment building, almost soulless.

“You can’t have feelings for your boss,” Jimin sighs, and I hear in the distance a vague shuffling of clothes. “You can’t be sexually attracted to your boss, either.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” I greet our neighbours with a nod — actually, neighbour. The landlord, who is now heading out — and, as soon as she leaves, I groan loudly. With cattiness, I push the elevator button, my forehead pressed onto the wall next to it.

“We have to do something about it. This is not happening. And this clearly refers to you drooling over someone you can’t possibly have, for perfectly good reasons.”

“We?” I ask meekly, opening our place’s door. Jungkook’s not home yet, he’s got a late afternoon class that usually drains all his energies, which only means get in the shower before Jungkook does. Ergo, translation sponsored by the creator of the roommate language, thank you very much, the roommate who had to shower multiple times with cold, freezing water, in order to avoid such fucking loathsome situation, should enjoy her roommate’s absence. Especially since he wants all the hot water in the world for himself for the following half hour. Jungkook is caring just like that, yes. I am the luckiest gal in the world.

“Well, it’s not like we can handle you being all gross when talking about this guy’s dimples while sexually frustrated because, and I quote, he’s so fucking attractive.”

“I-I never said I was sexually frustrated, though?”

“Really,” he deadpans, “You did not. So, we didn’t go through a detailed erotic novel based on how you’d call him daddy despite you not wetting yourself at the thought of calling someone your daddy—or how you’d drop on your knees—”

“I think that’s enough, Chim.”

“Yeah,” he groans, “me fucking too.”

I ponder whether asking him what’s bothering him, because there’s clearly something I can’t quite picture troubling one of my best friends. Jimin is altogether the perfect comrade one needs in their life (he’s cool, he gives great advice, he listens, he’s always giving, which applies to a wide range of things, spacing from his shoulder to more practical, capitalistic things you didn’t even know you’d need) and the worst interlocutor one could ever have (he despises talking about his feelings, his thoughts, and never shares unless something huge happens). Jimin’s a solid seven, based on the results of the Kim Social Test. Tae had nodded his head, gravely, then wrote something on the papers he had been holding the whole time he questioned his soulmate.

How I wish I knew how to properly read people like Tae does. Jimin and I once planned to get him tipsy enough to sneak into his chaotic room for plenty of time, so that we’d discover the secret papers – the KST secret papers. Needless to say, we still know shit regarding Kim Taehyung’s enigmas. One day, Chim. One day we’ll discover all of the answers Taehyung hasn’t shared about the infamous twenty-seven steps test.

The moment I take off my shoes, though, something moving in my periphery catches my attention. Something white moving. Proper phrasing, Y/N. Namjoon expects better from you.

Someone… in white… moving?

Ten points to Gryffindor.

Wait.

It’s Jungkook.

My roommate. My shy roommate. Wet. Wearing just a white towel around his waist. Can people actually have a waist this tiny? And since when Jungkook has abs? What the fuck?

“’Min, I’ll call you back.”

“Oh,” Jungkook has seen me, moved in my direction and I shoot my gaze directly on his face. Not an inch below. Nope. I won’t stare at him. (Sure, the guy goes to the gym. The guy has muscles. But abs? Shit.) “When did you come back? I didn’t hear you coming in.”

Jungkook is handsome.

“Seconds ago. Really.”

He looks at me with a lopsided grin, hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. If he notices that my posture is somewhat frozen and my gaze won’t, incidentally, meet nothing but his, he doesn’t say anything, and I’m immensely grateful for that.

It just—struck me in a funny way, I guess. Not everyday you expect your almost naked roommate to greet you like this, coming back home. Nuh-uh. Especially not a roommate you didn’t realise had abs, thank you very much.

“When did you—uhm, when did you come back, though?”

“As soon as I heard my class was cancelled. I’ve been working on those fucking essays ever since, goddamnit. I needed a break, so I hit the shower enjoying your absence very much.” He shoots me a sardonic smile and, for a second, I’m tempted to hit him. But I don’t. He’s fucking naked. His skin is glistening because he’s still wet. He’s… he’s basically a whole adult now, and he still hasn’t learned how to properly use a towel.

Fucking fuck.

He’s wetting the kitchen floor.

Oh my god, get a grip, Y/N.

Eyes up.

“You were right, by the way,” he furrows his eyebrows, adjusting his towel with a hand and opening the fridge with the other, “I had to write them a long time ago. Procrastinating is fucking me up.”

I suppress my next thought as soon as it’s formed and carved into my brain. My heart is burning at how quickly this conversation could take a turn for the worst, so I spur, without thinking, “You’re fucking me up.”

Also known as the very, exact thought that my brain didn’t manage to stifle. Which could mean a lot of things, really! Out of context, yes, it could seem like I meant that in a… sexual way? But in reality—of fucking course not! Have you seen me? Have you seen Jungkook?

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise so much I’m afraid they faded into his hairline. Flush creeps into my face, so I hasten to add: “I’m supposed to take a shower first, you know. I deserve the hot water too. This means you only won this round.”

He grips the fridge door tighter, takes his time licking his lips and—I stop following his movements when he chuckles, his laugh almost lost in the awkward silence I brought myself upon.

“Yeah, war’s still on, shortie.”

I gasp, a loud sound that has him vibrating against the fridge. I’m seconds away from touching his back and get a hold of his attention but I refrain from doing so because—because he’s showing so much skin, smooth skin that would feel like silk under the touch. I can only imagine how my thumbs’ pads would feel, running against his bare body.

Get a grip, Y/N.

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

“Mhm?” – he blinks, playing pretend – “What did I say?”

I hastily grab his banana milk from his hands, shoving it away from him and barely above my head.

“Come again, you coward.”

He now faces me, the tip of his tongue wetting his upper lip.

I fucked up, I realize, eyes widening.

I probably have three seconds to surrender before he’ll say or do something that will worsen the situation. The situation being his presence – his mostly naked presence – hurting me and making me flutter and thinking things and…

“You do have a chance of winning the shower game, baby…”

I’m fucked.

“But you lost this battle a long time ago.” his velvet voice whispers as his eyes dart into mine, falling into the darkness of my pupils.

Jungkook grabs the banana milk bottle, his fingers brushing mine and burning me while I can only stare back, mouth agape. He spares a look at his hand making contact with mine, but it’s gone as soon as it begins, because he’s back to staring into my soul and past lives and future ones.

I’m fucked, period.

I gulp when his phone starts ringing and that catches his whole attention.

More so, I feel like I can breathe again.

Jungkook blinks a couple times, his doe eyes darting to where he placed his phone last and, in that moment, I realize that Jimin is right: we have to do something about it.

We need to do something about it as soon as possible.

EXHIBIT D(enial)

Step twelve: what kind of relationship have you established with your person in question? Let yourself find out.

Jimin shakes his purple head from side to side, his thumb stuck in mid air as he stops scrolling down his phone.

“I just don’t understand,” he frowns, smacking his lips, “What am I supposed to tell you? You declined all my plans.”

If I didn’t know him better, I’d say he was whining, the sound loud and deafening, able to soften his features and make him look a lot younger and innocent.

“I know,” it’s my turn to whine and show despair, I now get to crumble under Jimin’s scrutiny. “But I don’t want to date. I don’t want to put myself under all that stress—constant anxiety, fear of not knowing what the other is thinking, undeniable concern because our schedules wouldn’t match… and,” I add, allowing myself to breathe, “I want it to happen casually. I don’t want to force a relationship. The last time I did this it turned out to be a complete failure.”

Jimin sighs, blocking his phone and throwing it away on the couch. Taehyung and Jimin’s flat is suffocating. Hence why we avoid hanging out together at their place—one could say it’s nice, it gives off a cosy vibe and, yeah, in a way I agree. But having to shove Tae’s clothes in order to enter home, cramming into a small place both the kitchen and living room and debating whether the tiny veranda can be considered a new room is too much. (And frankly, concerning. Once, Jimin went outside to fetch underwear. Yeah, underwear.) I’d rather live anywhere but here.

My mind likes to be a bitch, because in a hot second I’m picturing Jungkook doing the most domestic and unfathomable things, like… like, laundry. I see him crouching on his knees, an attentive look offered to his dark clothes only, forehead showing, and tiredness written all over his face. He always smells so good after taking care of his clothes, the detergent’s distinctive smell sticking to his skin for longer than necessary.

“And I don’t want hook-ups. Especially not with people of your choice.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll admit that Tae and I have tried one too many times to match you with… not good fits.”

“Not good fits is a fucking euphemism, Park.”

He snorts, a hand in his hair. “Sorry, sorry. I know. Still, that leaves us…” he pretends to look at a paper in his hands, expression contorted into a delusional one. “Masturbation. Rub one off in the good, old way. Should be fine for a week or two.”

Doctor Park earns a swift prod of my elbow against his thigh, and I’m rewarded with his high-pitched laugh.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, that hurt.”

“This whole conversation hurts, Jimin.” – I sigh, slouching on the couch – “I can’t believe I’m letting you help with this… problem.”

“My dear dramatic friend,” he starts, propping an elbow on a cushion, “you’re just horny. Frustrated. And I don’t know how to help you.”

“That reminds me, you useless purple-haired good-looking friend—”

“…That’s not an insult?”

“…is everything okay with you? I mean – you live with Taehyung, so clearly something is wrong with you, but I mean emotionally? You’ve been a little off these past few days.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” my smile is inevitable, “Oh.”

Did he really think people wouldn’t notice? Me, of all people, wouldn’t realize something is wrong from his behaviour?

“No, just—same old, I guess.”

“My Jimin translator is currently fucked up so I need you to repeat what you just said in an understandable way, Min.”

Scratch that, my Jimin translator has always had problems. If it had ever worked, I wouldn’t find myself here, knees brought up to my chest, struggling to hear Jimin talking about his feelings.

He passes a hand through his locks. “I’m holding up just fine? Studying, working, hooking up unlike you.”

“Don’t make it about me, jerk. What about the person you were with, when we talked on the phone yesterday?”

“What do you mean, the person I was with?”

The look on my face makes him groan, hands now covering his eyes. “What gave it away?”

“Happy post coital Jimin is very different from frustrated but not sexually Jimin, I’ll have you know.”

“I don’t even want to know, what the fuck.”

“But I do,” I plea, tugging at the end of his shirt, “Tell me what’s wrong, Min.”

The whining tone of my voice has to do the trick, I reckon, because he’s throwing his head back and hastily grabs a cushion to hold—or to suffocate himself with, I can’t tell.

“I’m sort of—getting over someone. It’s harder than I thought.”

Oh, Jimin.

I’m dramatic, okay? Jimin knows, Taehyung laughs because of this and Jungkook finds it amusing, too. Everybody knows. So, I developed several different scenarios – a wide range of possible things Jimin would share (finally) with me, but none of them resemble in the slightest the real thing. And it’s somewhat frightening.

“You don’t have to tell me… I didn’t know you even liked someone in the first place. Really, it’s okay. I thought it was something trivial like trying to survive in this place or a fight with Tae, I don’t know.”

This makes him smile. “No, it’s—it wasn’t an unrequited crush, you know? Only, things happened, and we stopped seeing each other. Turns out it’s difficult to get over him.”

A pause, the tip of his tongue wetting his plump lower lip. “Do we know him? Me and Taehyung, I mean?”

“It’s—complicated. But it’s not a big deal, really.”

“How can you say that? Your feelings are at stake and seeing you hurt haunts me.”

He bites the insides of his mouth, eyes glinting with disbelief. “You really are dumb and dramatic, what the fuck. I’ll get over him, don’t worry.”

He throws a cushion at me, while I stare him, eyes wide and mouth agape because of his reaction, calm and composed. As if it’s really not this big of a deal.

“If you really feel sad, though… buy me a drink. Or two. Or three. Until me suffering stops haunting you.”

The audacity of Park Jimin, ladies and gentlemen.

[15.38] you: okay min

[15.38] you: you were right. i’m horny

[15.40] jimin: what else is new bb. What did he do this time

[15.41] you: bold of you to assume he did anything in the first place. But no. he didn’t do anything

[15.41] you: Beside getting a terrible haircut. I hate it. I kinda wanna punch namjoon in the face for this, and not in the kinky way

[15.43] jimin: Is there a kinky way to punch someone? Maybe you meant spitting in his mouth? On his dick? I’ll stop with these bc I don’t want you to get worked up over my texts

[15.43] you: shut up

[15.43] you: anyway one of his friends passed by. Red hair. Mouth hearth shaped. Adonis body. 10/10 would bang or kiss or hold his hand

[15.43] you: 15/10 would prefer the banging. Anyway, I don’t have a crush on namjoon, I’m just in need of a good dicking

[15.46] jimin: I’m screenshotting this and sending it to taetae

[15.46] you: blocked and reported

[15.46] jimin: you’re my dick deprived friend and I love you. Taetae says he’s not up for dicking you good because he’s in love with a girl that is about to blow him, sorry don’t be mad I don’t make the rules

[15.48] you: what the fuck did I just read

[15.48] jimin: just say you love me and you’ll go out with us tonight. Let’s partayyyy. I’ll help you find someone to go down on you, trust me

[15.49] you: what the fuck did I just read, the reprise

[15.51] jimin: no ok ok ok. Seriously. Go out with us. Me, tae and guk. We made plans a couple of days ago. Come with us. If you’re not up for a hook up you can just loosen up a bit and have fun with us. I promise

[15.52] jimin: please

[15.54] you: I’m in

***

One thing Jungkook doesn’t notice about me straight away is the feeling of uneasiness and worry that creeps up my face.

Jungkook’s curious, mostly alcohol-hazed, look scurries away before meeting my eyes: he checks me out (I wish I didn’t have to say this—but one has to come to terms with this admission after being looked at with dark, hooded eyes for a good five minutes), tilts his head in what I assume it’s his flirting expression, comments on the dark, sometimes transparent dress Taehyung bought me online and clicks his tongue in a mocking way, when said Taehyung hits him with a can of cheap beer and a couple of dirty jokes.

I would like to wrap Taehyung like a burrito with a warm, inviting plaid instead of having him dragging us all in a packed bar, for the simple and yet abhorrent (to him, of course) reason that he’s shit at pregaming. To be completely honest, he’s shit at drinking. Can’t hold his liquor if his life depended on it. Jimin blocks his phone and groans loudly, then proceeds in wrapping his arm around Tae’s waist and escorting him outside our apartment, murmuring a regretful “I’m doing this because I need it, you shithead. Don’t make me regret I came with you.”

I chuckle, amused by the two.

It’s only seconds later that my wrist is playfully grabbed by one clearly upset Jungkook. He blinks, twice, before wetting his chapped lips. I shoot him a questioning look that I hope doesn’t feel like I’m in need to get away from him because I’m being weirded out by his behaviour.

“I didn’t know you were coming with us.” he says, even though it sounds like a realization he wrongly pronounced out loud.

“Am I gonna be a problem for you?”

His doe eyes widen at that, but he’s quick to reassure, voice steadier: “Of course not.” He furrows his eyebrows, “I just meant…” A shrug. “I thought you didn’t do this.”

“What? Hanging out with my friends?”

He’s smiling an empty smile how, lips twisting into a crude exhibit of disorientation, like he doesn’t know how to answer that.

“Right.” He nods, stopping holding my wrist. “A friends’ night out.”

He steals a glance at me, short, devoid of emotion, before grabbing his jacket and following Jimin and Tae.

‘Right?’ I’m not—I’m not interrupting a guys’ night. I am not imposing. I can be pedant and dramatic and clingy to Jimin when drunk (remember the Incident with the former roommates of mine? Or better—don’t. I don’t wanna reminisce those moments. Just acknowledge that Drunk Me can turn into a cuddly, clingy friend) but I’m sure as fuck not imposing. God. I’m not.

As I play with the short cuticles on my middle finger, I gnaw at the inside of my mouth.

It’s funny how I am the one wondering ‘Right?; it’s in moments like this that I want nothing but to shove Jungkook against a plain, stone cold surface and ask him to talk to me. This crumbling show resembles so much the Mina Thing that I am feeling uncomfortable even asking. I thought that having a roommate meant gaining a friend; now I say: maybe. It depends. I guess that sharing a house with someone means you’re bound to come into contact with this other person, and there are times when this connection turns into something deeper, like friendship. Still, it’s not the usual friendship path, so you have to be careful and make sacrifices along the way. Right now, the sacrifice I’m making is taming my – how did Jimin call it, once? Mom-friend attitude?

Tone it down, Y/N.

Especially since I know I am not nurturing the boys into spending time with me and showering me with attention.

I sigh.

The question that fails to be answered is only one…

What’s gotten into Jungkook?

***

“Plan for the night,” Taehyung smirks, hands in his now longer hair, “I’m getting wasted.”

“Very mature,” Jimin snorts.

“You’d be too, if the fuck of your life didn’t call you back.”

“Oh my god,” I groan, “It happened a long time ago. I remember I was still wondering whether asking your roommate to wash up was decent human being behaviour or not.”

“Or not.” Tae blinks, hands in his pockets, “You once told me, too. You were rude.”

“You threw up on me!” Jungkook chuckles. “Besides, it was freshmen’s week.”

Jimin nods. “Banging on freshmen’s week doesn’t count.”

“Especially if that’s a grad student sorry excuse to get wasted.”

“She is a hot grad student, thank you very much.” – Taehyung moves into the crowd stalled at the entrance and points towards the bar – “You’re gonna find me right there until the love of my life comes back.”

“She won’t—”

“Don’t ruin it, shortie.”

The audacity. “Have you ever considered that, perhaps, you weren’t the fuck of her life, instead?”

“Way to hound me, woman.”

Jimin shakes his head and pushes his soulmate out of the way. “Grab me a drink while you’re there.”

“Make it three!” my voice follows him, now definitely swallowed by the crowd.

The place is packed. Tae mentioned the location being renewed over the past week, but I hadn’t given him much thought. (I still remember the ruin pub tour in Budapest, for god’s sake. A tip for the future: never let Taehyung plan your holidays. No matter how much promising his ideas look) and I must admit that I like the new touch.

My gazing the surroundings is hastily interrupted by a now awaiting Jeon Jungkook: he looks at me with an arching eyebrow, his lower lip enveloping his upper one.

“What?”

“Again, what do you want?”

Knowing who pissed in your Cheerios?

“I,” I shrug, “What do you mean?”

“Grab her a Long Island, Guk,” Jimin’s voice cuts in between our bodies, “I take whatever Tae’s having.”

Right. The drink. Of course.

Jungkook disappears before stealing a glance at the both of us, a je ne sais quoi of unsaid still clear between us.

“I hate to ask. You know I do.” Jimin’s fingertips brush against the leather of my jacket. “But… is something off? Between you two?”

The soft indie music that welcomed us when we got in slowly turns into a more upbeat, loud mix of sounds and I spot in Min’s eyes the need to go dancing. I instantly remember that this night it’s for him as much as it is for me.

“No, Min.” I shake my head along to my words, a quick smile on my lips. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Better not, shortie.”

Dancing is a harder activity to excel at, especially when you’re not Jimin nor you haven’t got Taehyung’s confidence, somehow perfectly balanced by his carelessness – he doesn’t give a fuck about judgements and stares and what-not, and this freedom only fuels him. I find myself juggling between being either of them or, well, striving to channel either of them into my limbs and inner self.

It’s all about matter of attitude, in the end.

This matter of personality traits you-can’t-quite-inherit-unless-you’re-the-soulmates-themselves corners me in a delightful position: I’m very close to dancing without restraints in the middle of this place, still placing a decent amount of attention on the music itself and the crowd that has managed to swallow me whole in the past half hour.

I’m exhausted.

Don’t get me wrong—it’s insanely freely to disinhibit myself and let go, every once in a while, but I feel as if there are matters yet to be discussed that stop me from giving one hundred percent myself out on the dancefloor, as Jimin called it.

These disturbing matters present themselves right on my side in the form of one very attentive yet not-so-sober Jeon Jungkook, when I shake my head and decide to buy myself another drink.

His bouncy, fluffy hair is sticking in every unfathomable direction when his gaze crosses mine, and I don’t further inquire his state, despite my expression probably giving my thoughts away. He cocks his head, licking his lips.

“What’s up?”

That definitely sounded like a staggered what’s wrong? Where did I fuck up?

I cross my arms and place them on the mahogany counter, shrugging my shoulders.

“This place is starting to stink.”

“Well,” he mulls, a finger in his freshly formed curls. “I hope you weren’t expecting flowers and, fuck, I don’t know? Soap? Ginger ale?”

“Damn, there you go crashing my hopes and dreams.”

“Jeon Jungkook, professional heartbreaker at your service.”

I scrunch my nose. “Be more creative, c’mon.”

“International playboy?”

“I was thinking more of laundry fairy, though? Or black clothes enthusiast?”

He stares at me with an uncanny expression, blinking twice. He then shakes his head, the tip of his tongue poking out, his hands moving with emphasis in a c’mere, I just wanna talk gesture.

“You take it back,” he says, unable to hold back a laugh, “Take it back now.”

“You’re a fucking menace, is what you are.”

Jungkook chuckles while placing his elbow on my shoulders, enhancing his tall person privileges. “It’s still early, you know,” he mutters after a while, waiting for me to order before talking.

“For what?”

“Jimin said he promised to get you a hook-up,” he explains, eyes on the people still dancing in front of us. His voice is softer when he speaks next, and I find myself unable to look away from his profile even though he’s not even glancing in my direction. “It’s still early, you have all the time in the world.”

Oh.

Funnily enough, I had almost given up on the quest. I just assumed Jimin and I were living knowing the second part of our deal was taking place right around us, ergo us just having fun. Brushing aside the stress of the past few days.

Jungkook thinks I’m here to get laid? For fuck’s sake. My face heats up at just the thought.

“I’m not that desperate, Guk.”

“I know this.” He takes a strand of my hair between his calloused fingers. “I’m just saying… there’s nothing stopping you.”

“Stopping me?”

He’s so close his laugh resonates against my side, his little smile not disappearing from his lips.

“Fishing for compliments, huh?”

He chooses the moment I frown not so delicately to turn around and look at me. “Am not.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he sighs, turning me around and placing an arm around my shoulders. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Oh.

How to survive from getting compliments by the one and only Jeon Jungkook, an autobiography by yours truly.

I can vaguely feel my fingers trembling.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” I retort, putting up the bravest smile I could muster up. “Try again.”

He hums, closing dangerously the distance between our bodies. I am flushed. Tingling. Burning. His breath is nudging my ear, his fingers playfully tapping my shoulder.

“Let me rephrase this, then,” a pause, “You could get anyone here.”

I follow his stare into the crowd, a bubbly, commercial song now playing. His deep, soft voice continues, “Literally anyone. From that guy on our left that has been staring at you for the past half hour to the girl on your right with the black straw in her mouth.”

As my eyes catch a glimpse of the people he’s mentioned, a vivid, powerful weight drops in my stomach. I swallow, frowning slightly. I just. I just don’t want them. I don’t want random people. I don’t want casual anymore. I’m throwing myself toward a better goal, a blazing direction, an ardent feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something that resembles a stable relationship. Domesticity. Tenderness. Urgency. Passion. The whole package, I can practically hear Jimin shouting. I want…

My mind must love playing tricks on me, because suddenly I’m surrounded by muffled sounds and I can only think: Jungkook. This one right here. This warm body next to mine. This kind soul.

The bubble bursts as rapidly as it had grown around me in the first place.

This Jungkook with a girlfriend. This taken man. This body that is used to warm up another girl’s sheets.

I fight the instinct to cry.

“Not interested in anyone, sorry.”

Jungkook’s tone is crushed when he speaks next, but I don’t care. I don’t even want to know why. It doesn’t even matter. I don’t want to think about it.

“Right.”

I grab the freezing drink with one hand, the other in my hair.

The cold feeling against my skin sends a shiver down my spine and I can’t help but feel as if that’s the only ending I’m getting. The only road I’m supposed to enter—the average one, the ordinary, already paved, already walked on by thousands before me.

The only time I’m thinking seriously about someone it’s—it’s about a taken one. Well played, Y/N. Good fucking job.

“See you at home?”

It wasn’t supposed to be a question, but who cares, right? I’m leaving Jungkook’s periphery before he can even form a decent answer.

Turns out I can channel one of the soulmates, in the end. It’s Jimin. It’s what the purple haired friend always does when his feelings are at stake. When he puts his defences up and plays around like me and Tae can’t fucking see he’s hurt.

I’m making sure feelings can’t get to me.

***

“Y/N? Hey, what’s wrong?”

Yoongi’s alarmed tone is the only clear sound I can properly hear. I giggle uncontrollably, hand covering my mouth.

“Ooops. Wrong number.”

My back slides against the wall, and I sigh as I sit down on the bathroom floor.

I don’t know what prompted me hiding in here.

I don’t—I didn’t think this through. Properly. I’ve never aced hide and seek, as a kid.

“Don’t worry… are you—are you alright?”

I gulp. “Yep. Yup. Positive, sir.” Now I’m hiccupping like someone who can’t hold his liquor. Someone I’m not. Taehyung in his purest form.

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s voice reverberates in my ear, “Have you been drinking?”

God. Why on earth am I on the phone with him?

“I don’t know, you’re the one who called me.” I said that out loud? Oh, shit. I burst into a fit of giggles, once again. This is so embarrassing. “Are you alone? Is Jungkook with you?”

“No, god. No.”

“Is Jimin with you, then?”

“Dunno. Might be outside the women’s bathroom. Might not.”

Have been here for the past twenty minutes, looking far worse than I sound, of course I don’t know. The freezing tiles melt me and my first instinct – my primal reaction to this unexpected, rude cold is staring at the ceiling. Not batting an eye. Throwing my head back on the wall, hoping the goose bumps will fade in seconds. Hoping the childish, irrational tears won’t wet my cheeks.

I hate this state of raw, sick vulnerability. I hate knowing it doesn’t go away with a snap of fingers, with the silent, hushed promise to myself that I’ll do better next time, I’ll take care of myself in such a good way this will only feel like a bad dream. A short-lived nightmare.

“Can you reach him? Please?”

It’s a sequence of blurs, then – getting on my feet, meeting Jimin’s worried eyes, brushing away Taehyung’s confused, warm hand. Jimin nodding, grabbing his jacket, scanning quickly the room. The buzz dissipates around me, numbing me to the point that I don’t recall going home, in the end. Neither Jimin’s precious care nor the quiet sobs that don’t stop.

Nothing but an unexpected text, bright and deadly, blurred with tears for me and myself only.

[01.26] jungkook: staying at mina’s tonight.

EXHIBIT E

Step fifteen: when in doubt, ask for a rematch. Challenge your opponent. Scoot closer. Drop the formalities. Let that stake be higher.

I’ve been through worse.

I’ve literally shoved my fingers down Jimin’s throat so he could throw up. I’ve studied the wrong assignment more than once. Once, I only ate birthday cakes for a week. Emphasis on cakes.

Harbouring silly, illogical crushes for someone doesn’t even make the top ten list. When you’ve known Taehyung and Jimin for longer than five years, you know it doesn’t even make the top twenty stupid things you regret doing in your life chart.

That’s why it doesn’t matter—okay, Jungkook looks good wearing black. Passing his hand through his messy locks, therefore showing his forehead. Making eye contact when he talks (that has lately turned into a reason why I’ve been blushing more around him, for Christ’s sake).

So what? It happens. It happens when people are cute. And smart. And funny.

“Morning,” Jungkook mumbles, voice drowsy and thick with sleep.

I’m thrown away by his appearance, which can only confirm the fact that he didn’t spend the night here, at home, his bedroom next to mine. He’s slouched on the couch, eyes still closed, his thick eyelashes catching my attention.

I try not to focus on the feeling in my belly, a weight in the pit of my stomach that dropped when I got his text last night and hasn’t disappeared ever since. He’s got a girlfriend and I have no right whatsoever to feel saddened by this crucial statement. Honestly, a part of me feels guilty because it’s nothing I didn’t know before yesterday. Does it make me mad, knowing that his girlfriend has been away from him for so long? That, while he pushed her away because he needed space, feelings for him started spurring in my stomach and mind and every limb of mine? Yes. Yes, ten thousand times yes. But—what can I do about them? I’m so used to dealing with feelings on my own – how many crushes did I suppress because my feelings were unrequited? I lost count – that it shouldn’t even surprise me. Yet here I am, yet here my last shred of hope flees away. I’m delusional. I’d laugh, out loud, dry, not at all sympathetic if only Jungkook wasn’t here.

As I bit the insides of my mouth, I can only hum in response, not gathering the strength to form a proper greeting.

“Tired?”, Jungkook asks as he starts playing with the rings on his fingers. I turn around, facing the kitchen counter and the mug I’ve just grabbed.

Tired doesn’t even begin describing what the fuck I’m feeling.

“Yeah.”

It’s all I can muster up.

“Mhm.”

I can hear a vague shuffling of clothes – he must be standing up, stretching his limbs, suppressing a groan. Only a glance. I spare only a glance at his tired figure that disappears from my periphery.

That’s how Jungkook retreats in his room.

I never hated Saturday mornings as much as I do now.

***

Maybe that was an idiotic hyperbole. Because, my internal voice almost stutters, this is what sucks. This is what I hate: a whole week (a whole ten days) without Jungkook. Scratch that. A whole ten days with Jungkook in it and my usual Jungkook missing from my life altogether.

He scraps his neck, doesn’t meet my eyes, doesn’t stay in the same room as me anymore. Which is understandable. I’m a rational human being, not at all baffled by emotions of any kind, of course, so I get it. An inclination of sorts erupted between us during that night out and it unequivocally brought to surface my limits (read: my feelings) and his desire to stray as further as possible away from me. I get that. I would have flirted with him and said things to him if the girlfriend package didn’t cross my mind. I have feelings and a deep, vivid imagination to support said to-be-neglected feelings and Jungkook must have sensed that. Must have had an epiphany somewhere in between this horrific, awkward week without me.

Makes sense! It’s alright! I can manage without him.

It’s the only right turn of things, after all.

As I hold the key in my hand and open the apartment’s door with a sigh, the stillness of the living room hits me at once. I don’t know whether blaming the shredded, dying light of the day breezing past the sunblinds or the overbearing tidiness of the stuff in the room. Just a glance towards the awfully tidy space, crammed with magazines precisely positioned on the coffee table, the couch, unused for days, taking up too much space, and the TV turned off since the beginning of the week… makes my stomach drop.

I’m suddenly burned out, feeling the weight of a never-ending week of work and innumerable talks with my mind crashing on me and trapping my chest. I let out a drawn out, exhausted breath, feeling for the first time in a long time like a guest just waiting to go back home.

A black mop of hair distracts me from this dying scenery, and I meet for the first time in too many days Jungkook’s big, doe eyes.

“Hi,” he puffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hungry?”

He’s standing with his fingers interlaced and a white tee too big for his figure that’s swallowing him fully. I can’t help but steal a glance at his bouncy, almost curly hair that look so, so incredibly soft at the touch.

“No,” I shake my head, voice low, already taking a step forward my room. “I’ve got a huge load of paperwork to do before tomorrow.”

He nods, and my heart breaks just a little because having dinner together was a thing I got used to too fast for my liking. There was something about his jokes and disparate comments on whatever show we were binging. Or about the soft chuckles he let out, the way he relaxed against the couch and, when it became too late, made sure to wake me up with that husky voice of his when I fell asleep on my end of the couch.

Upper lip between my tooth, I decide against standing like a fool in front of him when he made it extremely clear, in the past ten days, that doesn’t really want me around. Which is—hurting me, but I guess there are things I can’t control in life. One of them being his friend, right now.

As I retreat in my room, I feel so terribly stupid, without any doubt crushing once again on the wrong person.

***

Thursday morning finds me padding softly through my room, reaching the kitchen with my eyes half closed and hair purposely sticking in multiple directions to make me look like a mess in front of my roommate, because, of course. Jungkook’s in the kitchen.

It feels like a nightmare. One where I’m supposed to bump into Jungkook in the worst of times, looking desperate while he’s the very definition of boyfriend material. And I’m internally screaming. And dying, of fucking course.

He’s on the phone, humming at his interlocutor while tracing patterns on his thigh, his little dimple on full display.

“Hyung, no—”

He groans, and I can’t help but chuckle softly at the scene, his dark locks in his eyes. “I don’t know if… I mean, I hope we can make it…”

Jungkook turns fully around and faces me, his mouth agape and eyes wide, still able to melt me into a puddle of softness and quick heartbeats. I stare back like a stupid, crushing human being while I flush and he mouths a silent “morning” that steals a smile from me, anyway.

I can practically hear Jimin whispering whipped on repeat in my head and the implication alone makes my heart flutter.

(Maybe so, Park)

He stays like that in front of me, not moving, not even an inch, focusing his morbid eyes into my messy hair and brushing gently the tangles out. I freeze, unable to do something that’s not burning under his caring touch and pretending I’m not about to reveal my deep, inexcusable, unrequited crush to him.

I’m guilty once again—observing for a fraction of a second his lips, soft because of the melon lipbalm he insists on buying and when I look up, his eyes, ablaze, lock on mine and I believe there’s something resembling a flicker in them—a fervent flame shattering its surroundings.

“I’ll call you back, hyung. Yeah, yes, I know.”

As he places his phone down, he rasps, “Yoongi hyung is back. Just… just for a few days, though.” He hesitates, eyes still fixated on my bed head. “He invited me to his friends’ night out. Invited us, I mean. It’s nothing more than him pretending to be annoyed by us and being a good hyung, nonetheless. You know,” he furrows his eyebrows, “He’ll tell us we can’t hold our liquor then will buy us drinks and food. He’s gonna watch us eating like we’ve never had that much food in our lives and smile like an idiot at us bickering. It’s always the same with him. So,” he shrugs, his eyes darting to find mine, a bit insecure, “Are you free tonight?”

I blame the whole boyfriend attire. The softness of his request, the gentleness of his touch, his big eyes, my deep desire to feel a part of his life once again. Just for a night. Like the old times. Like we’d never put these barriers in between us. I want it so bad, even if it’s just for delusional fractions of a single, ordinary day.

“Yeah,” I whisper back, barely nodding, “Yeah, I’m in.”

EXHIBIT F(ucking finally, kid)

“Okay, so, you’re being paid for doing something you love?” Taehyung look absolutely gobsmacked by the idea that in this alternate universe there’s someone being paid for that exactly. “Hyung, it seems fake. Are you sure you’re being paid? Like, have you actually checked your bank account? Counted the money? Got that bread?”

“Oh my god,” Jimin whispers to himself, grabbing Taehyung’s hand and shoving him back. “You can’t ask people that, Tae.”

The soulmates glance at each-other, and Yoongi exhales a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I did. Had to buy Jin-hyung a Yankee candle as a thanks for the airport ride.” He looks at the eldest now, a frown and a pout adorning his face, “That shit costs a fucking fortune, though.”

“Not my fault my nose is delicate. I’m allergic to most things, you should know by now.”

“Most things?” Jungkook asks, confused. “I only knew of pollen?”

“Cheapness, kid. The acrid smell of an Ikea fruity candle. Yoongi’s crappy softener.”

Yoongi quite literally stabs Seokjin with his icy stare. “When did you smell my softener?”

“It’s lavender,” Jimin nods, solemnly. “It’s not bad.”

Before I can ask wait, how the fuck did you know that?, Yoongi shakes his head and comments on something twenty-one years old Seokjin did, once upon a time, that earns him a pout and a high-pitched reply by the eldest. I’d focus on how close the two – Jimin and Yoongi, of course - are, sitting with their shoulders almost brushing and thighs just inches separated, but I decide against it when I notice the way Yoongi smiles – all gums, all eyes turned into crescents – when Jimin throws his head back and laughs openly, clasping his hands together.

Oh, my mind offers, and I bite back a smile.

When Jungkook had told me about this night out, I didn’t imagine this scenario. This well outlined scenario with the bright cameo of Jimin and Taehyung, also known by anyone but me, thank you very much, as Yoongi’s friends. Or, well – acquaintances. At least on Tae and Yoongi’s part.

I fill my glass with water, eyeing the close two – Yoongi and Jimin – with sharp eyes, enjoying the calm aesthetic of this place, promptly suggested by a very euphoric Seokjin. (“It’s my brother’s restaurant,” he had explained, pride in his eyes, “I’m almost offended to hear you didn’t give it a try yet, but I’ll forgive you because you’ve put up with Jungkook for longer than I expected you to.” He smiled a proud, dad smile, all soft and bright, and before I could ask him to explain what he meant – or tilting questioningly my head, Jungkook had complained, loudly, a whine on his easy pout, “I’m hungry. Can we go in?”)

Turns out that we, yes, can go in, but, to Jungkook’s great dismay, we’re waiting for the last two friends to arrive. Jungkook has gone quiet beside me, his rings-filled fingers tapping a melody only he knows on the edge of table. I eye him for a second – a second that turns into two or three, definitely intrusive, because he snaps out of his hazed state and looks back, orbs all inquiring and able to make me burn under his scrutiny.

“I thought you’d be moping by now,” Seokjin begins, pointing his chin at Jungkook, a hand on the back of his neck. “You know, about…”

“His sorry relationship?”

Seokjin sneers at Yoongi’s remark. “More about that… all of that ended.”

“It ended a long time ago, though.” My roommate replies, while it’s my turn to become quiet and process the words I’m hearing. Does this mean what I think it means?

I swallow.

“Hyung,” Guk says, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “You know it had to be done. Wasn’t fair for either of us. Hasn’t been for god knows how long.”

“Wait,” Taehyung snaps, the bestest of friends, “You broke up?”

“No, wait,” Jimin says, a hand covering Taehyung’s, frozen in mid-air, “You were dating?”

Seokjin snorts, then shakes his head and goes for the first alcohol bottle on the table. Mood. Fucking mood. I’d grab that bottle or snatch it from his hands myself if I weren’t completely in a desperate, freaking out mode. My mind’s running towards ends and assumptions I don’t even want to hear, for my own sake, while my heartbeat is too fast paced for a chill, night out with friends. Friends only.

Oh, god. I wish Jungkook wasn’t smart and quick-witted. I’m so hoping he doesn’t connect the dots. I don’t want him to pick up the pieces and end the whole puzzle, so that he sees beyond the longing gazes and words and touches—or lack thereof and… gets it. Gets that my crush is insurmountable. And that it broadens itself like oil, dense and clear and unavoidable.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook smiles, then shakes his head as if to shrug off his shoulders this whole conversation. “You’re both being rude.”

“Hey, I’m not!” Tae replies curtly, “I just wanted to know if I can finally tell you how idiotic our last conversations have been! You know, all those ‘hyung, I need an advice’, ‘what if she—'”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, so what about the hideous ‘I jerked off to—'’

“For fuck’s sake.”

A napkin has been thrown in Tae’s direction.

“Nice touch” I say, because I’m an idiot that only points out the most useless thing out of this whole thing – fucking hell, this gigantic conversation slash vase of Pandora.

“Glad to know Jungkook’s still a brat,” a loud, chirpy voice to our left says. Remember when I said I didn’t picture the scenario like this? Well, scratch that. It turns out I didn’t picture the scenario at all if I’m being graced with Namjoon and Red hair. Mouth hearth shaped. Adonis body. 10/10 would bang or kiss or hold his hand himself. Oh my god.

What fucked up scenario is this?

What drama am I on?

“What the fuck.” That’s Namjoon’s greeting. I would snarl, but that would ruin my shocked expression. “What the fuck.” He repeats, blinking.

My boss, y’all.

What fine elegance. What charming behaviour. What snarky attitude. You wouldn’t believe that he is an editor, writer wannabe with that cool lexicon of his. His gentle manners, his perfect choice of words.

“Y/N? Why are you here?”

“Wait,” 10/10 would bang or kiss or hold his hand says, pointing fingers and retreating them soon after that, adjusting his shirt’s buttons. “Do we know you?”

“Kind of,” I say, offering a hand to him in greeting. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jungkook’s roommate? Wait—” 10/10 pauses, eyes wide, “Namjoon’s terrible intern?”

“I’m not that terrible, c’mon—”

“—you’re Namjoon?” Jimin almost shrieks, while 10/10, in the same, terrified tone asks: “Namjoon’s terrible intern is Jungkook’s roommate?”

As Jungkook casually throws his arm around my shoulders – most specifically, on the edge of my seat, I think, flushed, crushing, that this is the story of how I meet best friends Namjoon and Hoseok, number one Yoonmin stans, lukewarm coffee enthusiasts, great friends of Jungkook.

(He’d whisper to me, half an hour later, voice husky, “I didn’t know my Namjoon was your Namjoon.”

Then, Jimin would squeal, muttering to himself, “That Namjoon?”, ignoring Yoongi’s curious stare.)

***

Jungkook has broken up with his girlfriend.

Which means that he’s, now, single. Girlfriend-less. No girlfriend package. When I think of him, from now on, I’ll only be picturing a single, tall, package. Handsome, clearly. Good. Warm. All smiling and friendly. Caring.

“Have I seen you somewhere else, though?” Hoseok asks, eyebrow furrowed, while Jungkook stops eating and joins him in a collective scrutiny directed to me. This Jungkook is… just him. No relationships involved. No girlfriend. No love interests. No love interest?

It’s seconds later that I realize I didn’t answer Hoseok’s question, so I shrug my shoulders. “Work, maybe?”

My feeble, yet vivid and convincing hope has to die down. Because… Because what gives me the right to think he’ll want to jump off into another relationship? What makes me think he’ll like me? He’ll want a relationship with me?

Taehyung snaps his fingers right in front of Jimin’s face. “Screenshoot guy? 10/10?”

This is insane. I can’t believe I risked thinking I could make a move. Me, a shy coward. I can’t even fathom into thoughts – into words – the desire to laugh out loud at myself that I feel.

Idiotic. Truly idiotic.

“Yeah, Sherlock,” Jimin says, mocking, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Took you long enough.”

I send him back a tentative smile, that earns Hoseok’s genuine confused expression. Then I sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, not noticing a pair of eyes following my actions. Not until he scoops closer and props his elbow on the edge of my seat, eyes covered with worry.

“You okay?”

It’s in these moments that I find myself wondering– what if I’m just imagining things? Just projecting? Just putting myself in the worst possible, imaginable scenario?

What if there’s more behind Jungkook’s care?

Right in front of me there are his soft lips, stuck in a pout, and I urge myself to lift up my gaze and meet his comforting eyes. “Yeah,” I nod, “Yeah.”

Jungkook’s hand then meets the back of my neck, brushing against it with a gentleness so sudden it almost makes me tear up. “Okay,” he murmurs, voice a tad louder than a hushed whisper.

The burden of my worries, as well as the unbearable weight of my thoughts, flutter away like a wave with his tiny, barely noticeable gesture and I find myself burning with affection for this soft, quiet boy.

***

“You’re drunk”

“I’m hardly drunk. I’ve sobered up,” sounding almost offended, he raises his hands on either side of his head, as if he was proving his innocence, “Would a drunk guy be able to sing a song of your choice without fucking up? Just say the name, I’ll prove it to you.”

(The chill, quiet night around us reminds me once again that right now it’s only the two of us. We said goodbye to the other guys ten minutes ago, each of us going in a different direction – ours is towards Jungkook’s car – and… I can’t help but recall Jimin’s fingers brushing Yoongi’s slender ones, crooked and willing to wrap around the younger ones. My heart. My poor heart is bursting with hope and fondness.)

Jungkook leans closer, eyes fixated on my face, causing heat to colour my cheeks. He doesn’t seem fazed by my lack of answer. My gaze moves from his exposed collarbones up to his doe eyes, eventually meeting his comforting but never questioning stare. He’s here, quiet, his presence never imposing, yet dominant.

He comes impossibly closer, chest brushing mine, a tentative hand gently caressing my jaw. I suck in a breath. His presence is numbing; the mere tracing patterns on the juncture between my face and neck is��is overwhelming. Too much.

I flush, inevitably, head ducking.

“Eyes on me,” he blinks, voice lower. “I want to…” his voice falters, just as a short circuit takes over my whole brain: his intoxicating closeness, his eyes on my lips… God.

Terribly close, yet so, so—

He doesn’t even see me exhale, nor wet my lips—my mouth meets his before my thoughts start making sense. Jungkook shudders at my lips pressing against his, gasping, mouth parting.

He presses his mouth harder on mine, flushing his body against my own, his slender fingers at the nape of my neck.

God.

I pull him closer, so tight I let out a whine that allows him to explore my mouth, tongue demanding, hands clutching at either side of my neck.

Moaning drives him mad, makes the kiss hungrier and more urgent and I’m suddenly gasping for air, tugging at the end of his hair, pulling him to me.

This riles him up—one hand strokes my cheek, gently, as opposed to the licking of his tongue, definitely different from the digging of his fingers at the small of my back.

He draws out his name from my mouth so gently that, for a moment, I think I didn’t speak at all.

“I want you,” he mutters, eyes shut and mouth indefinitely close to mine. “Want you so bad”

“Car,” he kisses me again, “your car, Guk.”

The next actions are a blurred mess (his hand finding mine, our fingers intertwined, my body pushed between the door of his car and Jungkook’s toned torso) but also have me collapsing against Jungkook, his heat pressed against mine.

God.

“Fuck,” he takes a breath, “you’re gorgeous.”

His hands tentatively roam on my hips, descend onto my thighs, grip them, all of this while I lose myself again in his kisses.

“Shit, baby”

Jungkook’s patience runs out when he feels my pebbled nipples against his chest, because he tugs at the end of my thin sweater, then kisses me harder, and I feel him everywhere, when he grips my ass, when he grinds himself against my center, drawing a long moan out of me.

Jungkook is intoxicating.

He draws my breath right out of my lungs, fingers teasing, grinding once again against me.

“Jungkook, fuck”

I whimper, he chuckles. The glorious, idiotic kisser trails pecks all over my neck, sucking on a sweet spot beside my ear.

“Guk, please…”

I don’t know what I’m whining for, but it’s enough for him to smile and close the distance between our mouths once again, savouring me slowly, in a wet, calculated kiss.

Just as my pulsating heat meets his in another tentative grind, Jungkook’s phone brightens the calm darkness of the car.

Oh.

He takes it out, swearing.

I wish I was groaning for other reasons. Sweet, good reasons. Like Jungkook pushing my legs apart, settling between them, lowering to—

“What the fuck do you want, Tae?”

As I listen to my best friend’s voice through the phone, I push myself off Jungkook’s warm body, sliding onto the passenger’s seat, legs crossed.

God.

He looks at me with a questioning look, eyebrows furrowed, and face flushed. His lips are wet from the ministration of my hungry kisses and I instinctively bite mine.

Don’t think about Jungkook’s eating you out, don’t think about Jungkook’s eating you—

“No, we were–we were going home. Yeah, that can do. Don’t worry, give us a minute”

He sighs loudly when the call ends, throwing his head back.

The sight’s almost comical.

“I swear, I didn’t mean to answer. It’s just–the phone was vibrating against my dick and you, too, were very close to my dick and I- “

I interrupt him with a kiss. He melts into it instantly.

“One more,” he hums, “before turning up the engine? Please?”

I erupt into a quiet laugh, obliging.

(What am I gonna do, say no?)

“In case it wasn’t clear,” he rasps, eyes on the road to pick Tae up as he has probably now realised he’d been left all alone without a ride back, “I like you. Have been since managed to eat half a cake in a sitting. Or since you fell asleep on me while watching Princess Mononoke. Which, incidentally, I don’t condone.”

I hold in my breath. “Yeah?”

He waits, then offers his palm to me, “Yeah.”

I intertwine our fingers.

It’s all quiet. It’s all silent. Yet, all warm. A graceful wordless full minute that warms my heart and makes me think this is not real. This is not possible. I think, my mind says, hazed, replaying Jungkook’s kiss once or twice or thrice, this is not really happening.

Oh god. I point with my chin at the next stop. “Pull out for a minute. Just a minute.”

“Something’s wrong?”

When he does, I feel my body aching for him, alive, burning. I can’t believe this. I brush my lips against his, all swollen and tasting, despite everything, still like melon. “In case it wasn’t clear,” I say, softly, “I like you.”

“Yeah?”

I pull back. His nose is touching mine, our foreheads brushing. Jungkook chases me, cupping my cheek with his hand, tracing circles, and letting his tongue delve into my mouth.

“We gotta pick Tae up.”

“Right,” he says, not moving an inch, “Right.”

“I’m gonna trade picking up my best friend for a kiss. Or two.”

“Cockblocker,” Jungkook replies, nodding, “But deal. Wait, no. A kiss. Or two. Hundreds, of course. Along with making out in the car.”

“I’m always free to try your car with you, if I know what you mean, right?”

Jungkook groans. “Let me live.”

“Of course.” A kiss. “My best friend’s waiting.”

“You asked me to pull out.”

“You kissed me back.”

“Of fucking course, do I look dumb to you?”

((“I’m moving out”

These are the first words Jungkook hears on a fatal Thursday morning, hands holding onto the kitchen counter.

A mixed feeling paints his expression.

“I know we haven’t talked about this, but I think we both know that it’s the right thing to do,” I add, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Absolutely,” then he nods, slowly, “I’m moving out.”

“Thank god,” he murmurs, hands already cupping my face, “For all the sex we’ll be having.”

“Jungkook!”

“Think about the bed,” he says, smiling like the attractive idiot he is, “The couch. Because you’re getting a couch. Think about all the places Taehyung can’t reach. Baby.”

“Jerk,” I say, kissing him lightly on the mouth.

“I’m celebrating for you, you ungrateful, amazing ass. Think about how easy blowing me will be.”

“Oh my god.”

“Think about how easy it’ll be for me to eat you out.”

I throw my hands around his neck.

“Not complaining anymore, huh?”

“Ass.”

“You love me.”

“That I do, baby.”

That I do.))

#jungkook #bts #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanficiton #bts fake texts #bts jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts scenario

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vs-redemption · 4 years

Text

Blinded (Teen!Hawks X Teen!Toya Oneshot)

Summary: Hawks meets Toya Todoroki and has a conversation that forces him to open his eyes to the darker truths about hero society. This is based on the theory that Hawks met Dabi through the Hero Commission before Dabi was a villain.

Warnings: It’s kind of sad

Being blindfolded used to be a bit frightening, but not anymore. Honestly, now it was just kind of exhilarating because taking away my eyesight made the rest of my senses kick into overdrive. Years of training had made it so that nobody could hide from me, even in complete darkness. Having that kind of power gave me a confidence that I’d been raised to embrace and utilize in every aspect of my daily life. A person who was assured in their own abilities and actions put other people at ease. It made them trust you, and that was important for anyone aspiring to be a hero.

“Are you ready?” the familiar voice of the facility director comes through the speaker on the ceiling directly above my head. It was usually my personal supervisor that ran my routine quirk tests, but it wasn’t unheard of for the higher ups to show up and assess my progress every once in a while. I nod my head, knowing they were watching my every move as I mentally prepare for what I am about to do. There’s a count down.

“3…2…1…Go.”

The wings on my back snap open and a tingling sensation runs through my feathers as they pick up the vibrations of several dozen sensors placed randomly around the room. Learning how to sense and control each of my feathers had been a slow, uphill battle. It had only gotten easier thanks to all the rigorous mental exercises I’d been forced to endure. I still had a long way to go and a lot more to learn before I was ready to be a hero, but for now I took pride in how each feather moved on its own, flying through the room and shutting off each of the sensors with terrifying speed and accuracy. I can’t help but smirk a little, knowing the director was watching. Maybe if I impressed her enough, I’d finally be given permission to leave the facility.

There were only a few more sensors left when all of my focus suddenly zeroed in on the sounds coming from outside the testing room. People had been walking back and forth, chatting to each other, and opening and closing doors the entire time, but there was one particular voice that had always stood out. The fact that he was back after going missing for a few days was a little exciting, and my mind raced with possible reasons for the absence.

“Hawks!”

The director calls my name and I snap to attention. The bright red feathers around the room come flying back to me, filling out my wings as they fold back up against my back. I pull the blindfold off my face and glance up towards where I knew the camera watching my performance was hidden.

“What happened?” The voice was your supervisor now and he didn’t sound pleased. “You slowed down at the end and failed to turn off two of the sensors.”

I hadn’t made a mistake like that in a long time. It was time to put my diplomacy skills to the test. I put on my best smile, the one they’d rewarded me for using to my advantage in the past, and reach up to scratch the back of my head as a false show of submission.

“Sorry about that,” I keep my voice light but apologetic. “I thought I heard someone trip out in the hallway and figured it was worth losing a few points if I could make sure they were all right! That’s what a real hero would do, isn’t it?”

“No.” My supervisor hadn’t been moved at all by the act. I supposed that was to be expected since he was the one who had taught me all the tricks I’d just tried to pull. “You can think of those two missed sensors as two lives you failed to save today.” That was a bit harsh, but I knew better than to say anything about it.

“All right,” I sigh, giving in for real. “Just let me try again. I’ll get them this time.”

“There are no second chances in the real world,” the supervisor lectures. “Only consequences. So for the next two weeks you’ll be required to do an extra hour of training after dinner.” Before I have a chance to reply, I’m dismissed from the test and sent to my next class.

* * *

There were plenty of other students besides me attending the facility owned by the Hero Public Safety Commission. We all attended general studies classes together but did our quirk training separately. I’d been wishing for more time to get to know them for as long as I could remember. Unfortunately though, there was hardly ever time for me to socialize with my peers because they went home to their families in the afternoon while I lived in the building and did extra training in the evenings. It made me sort of an outcast to them, and I envied my classmates who got to leave this place to hang out, talk, and enjoy doing whatever it is that they liked doing.

“Hey. Chicken boy.”

It was the same voice I’d heard in the hallway during my test. I was supposed to be in the cafeteria for dinner within the next few minutes, but there was no way I could pass up a chance to talk to him. I turn around and see him sitting on the ground, tucked oddly underneath one of the facility’s drinking fountains.

“Hey.” I walk over to his crouched form, fighting the urge to check over my shoulder for anyone who might be watching. I was going to be in so much trouble if I was late to dinner. The commission kept me on a very strict schedule. It was strange that any other students would still be here though. Everyone else had gone home for the day.

I kneel down so it’d be easier to talk to him, but I was a bit too big to fit under the fountain with my wings. This is the closest I’d ever been to him, so it was a little startling to finally make eye contact with his icy blue stare after admiring him from afar for so long. If this was going to be my first impression, I had to make it good. I fluff up my wings and allow a huge smile to take over my face before asking, “Is everything okay?” The boy scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Stop it with that stupid hero act.” He crosses his arms over his knees which were tucked into his chest, making himself look younger and smaller than he was. His words sent a jolt into my stomach though. Stop the hero act? Being a perfect hero inside and out had been the main purpose of my existence since the facility had taken me in. I didn’t know how to stop.

“What’s your name, bird brain?” Apparently he’d grown impatient with my silence. I knew ‘Chicken Boy’ and ‘Bird Brain’ were probably supposed to be offensive, but I’d honestly be fine with any nickname just to keep him talking to me. I rarely got the chance to talk so casually with someone, especially someone so close to my age, and especially someone as interesting at this boy. Ever since he’d joined the facility, he’d only attended classes about seventy percent of the time. The times he did show up were spent driving the facility staff mad by questioning and challenging every order he was given. I liked his attitude, and I wanted to know what made him go absent so often.

“My name’s Hawks.” I soften my smile this time in the hopes he’ll reciprocate the friendliness. The irritation on his face only increases at my answer. He sighs and runs a hand through his thick, red, spiked up hair. His sleeve slides down to reveal that his wrist and forearm are covered in tightly wrapped bandages. It’s not the first time I’d seen him with injuries like that, and it was one of the many things that had made me so curious about him. How did he always end up hurt so badly? Did it happen during his training? Was he pushing himself too hard? Was someone doing it to him? There’d been no clues about what his quirk could be, so I couldn’t be sure what the story was.

“I meant your real name, moron.” The insults were getting more offensive, but I didn’t mind. I’d been taught by the commission that people lashed out at others out of fear, sadness, or insecurity. As a hero, I’d have to deal with people experiencing emotions like that every day. I couldn’t let it get to me.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone my real name,” I admit calmly while trying to think of a way to get him to open up to me. This was my first chance to try and make a real friend.

“Why not?” his tone was mocking, “You think you’re special because you live here and get special treatment?” The question was shocking. Is that what all my classmates thought of me? I was certainly lucky to have been taken in by the commission, but being caged inside was also a burden at times.

“I was told that it was safer for me to always use a hero name,” I explain, wondering if I was really supposed to be sharing details like that without asking. “The commission didn’t want anyone to be able to use my past against me.” A dark look passed across my classmate’s face then and he finally crawls out from under the fountain. I scramble to stand up too, worried that he was going to leave. He doesn’t walk away though. He just stands there with a scowl on his face.

“I wish someone would erase my past,” he finally mumbles after a pause. “It must be nice.”

“It’s lonely,” the words are out before I can stop them. I wasn’t ever supposed to show true vulnerability like that, but how could I not after he’d said something so sad? The expression on his face changes after that, probably surprised by my admission. The heat from his blue eyes seems to dull and the tension leaves his shoulders.

“Lonely, huh?” all the aggression had left his voice and the corner of his mouth pulls up into a sad smile. “Well isn’t that a pity?” I couldn’t tell if he was still making fun of me or not. Perhaps my isolation was amusing compared to whatever he dealt with that left him with open wounds all over his body. He reaches forward suddenly and wraps his fingers around my wrist to tug me closer. My brain all but short circuits at both the close proximity and his touch. It suddenly occurs to me that I had no idea when I’d last had physical contact with someone that wasn’t for a training or medical purpose.

“Let me fill you in on a secret,” he’s speaking just quietly enough that I have to lean in just a bit more to catch his words. “This place isn’t grooming you to be a hero. Not a real one anyway. They’re just brainwashing you into being a puppet that follows orders and never thinks for itself.”

“No, that’s not true.” It was a kneejerk response and deep down I knew it.

“Yeah, it is. Dumb bird,” the frown is back and he shakes his head. “Open your eyes.”

Open your eyes.

Suddenly the thought of ever being in a blindfold again made me want to be sick. Had the facility really been using me this whole time? Were they really training me into the type of hero I wanted to be? Surely it couldn’t be true. This classmate that I had been so intrigued by was clearly just trying to shatter the confidence that I’d worked so hard to build. He obviously wasn’t happy with his own life, and like they say, misery loves company.

“Hawks!” my supervisor comes stomping down the hallway towards us. The boy standing in front of me lets go of my wrist and backs away. “There you are! Did you forget what time dinner was? Oh. Toya…” there was clear distaste in my supervisor’s tone once he sees who I’m with. “That explains it. You know your father’s been blowing up our phone trying to figure out where you are?”

“I don’t care.” The boy says flatly, “He can go to hell.” He unconsciously starts rubbing at his arms where the bandages are.

“You should really reconsider that attitude of yours,” my supervisor warns him before turning to me. “Get to the cafeteria right now. And you’d better hope I never have to go searching for you again.” I look at Toya, wanting to continue our conversation so I could figure out what was going on with him and squash the uncertainty that was suddenly spreading through my head like wildfire. I didn’t want to get us into more trouble by disobeying, but I also had an urge to show him that I could act on my own. Before I could change my mind, I lunge forward and throw my arms around his neck to pull him into a tight embrace. He either didn’t want to hug me back because of his injured arms or didn’t know how to do it without disturbing my wings because he kept his arms hanging limply at his sides. That was okay though. It made me happy that he didn’t push me away.

“Keigo Takami,” I whisper as quietly as possible near his ear. “That’s my name.” I back away quickly with a big grin on my face. There was something liberating about releasing that information when I wasn’t supposed to. Toya raises his eyebrows at me, looking impressed. I wasn’t really ready to leave yet, but I didn’t want to push my luck more than I already had. “Goodbye,” I tell him before excusing myself and heading to the cafeteria.

* * *

After hearing that I’d diverged from the facility’s schedule to talk to another student in the hallway, my two weeks of extra training got extended to four. I knew that it would be difficult for me to ever talk to Toya again, at least not for a while. I used the time to really think about what he’d told me. I thought about my life in the facility and about the life I hoped to someday live as a pro hero. There were definitely a few things I could admit bothered me. The biggest one wasn’t even about how they treated me. It was how they treated Toya. Being a hero meant knowing when someone needed your help, and Toya was clearly a person that needed saving.

In class, I did my best to acknowledge him without drawing too much attention to ourselves, but the most interaction we could manage was a subtle head nod every now and then. After a week or so, he went missing for a couple days. He came back with fresh bandages on his arms. It confused me how the teachers and facility staff could allow whatever was doing this to him to continue. After the comment he’d made about his dad, I wondered if his father was the one to inflict the wounds. There was no way the commission would turn a blind eye to that though, right?

Blind

I was starting to sense a theme.

As time passed, Toya spent more and more time away from the facility. I couldn’t help but worry as the amount of bandages on his body increased until they covered his arms and legs completely and even wrapped up around his neck. The attitude he was known for had all but vanished too. The fight had gone out of him, leaving the light in his blue eyes looking distant and dead. I wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in my wings and protect him from whatever was hurting him, but feared getting the both of us into trouble. A few months later, Toya stopped showing up all together. When I asked my supervisor about it, he expertly danced around the question using the same methods of controlling the conversation that I’d been taught during my time as his student. I realized now that it wasn’t diplomacy I was learning, it was manipulation.

Toya had been right. Good heroes weren’t meant to be deceitful or to ignore injustices. I made a vow then to use the commission the way they had been using me. I’d let them train me and make me strong. I’d pretend to agree with their corrupted methods and ideals until I was powerful enough to change them myself. I’d do everything I possibly could to become a great hero and never allow myself to be put in a blindfold again.

#hawks #keigo takami #dabi #toya todoroki #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #would this be considered hotwings? or like hawks/dabi? idk #Cindy's Writing

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cosmic-hearts · 5 years

Text

can i be your bias? | hwang hyunjin

hwang hyunjin x reader - highschool!au

genres; fluff, friendship, slice of life

warnings; none

summary; in which you attend SOPA and happen to cross paths with predebut hwang hyunjin.

4.41 a.m.

Hyunjin sighs, his tired breaths seeming to echo and bounce off the walls of the dark, silent hallway. His members are sound asleep, and for a moment he considers stealing a few extra hours and just going to school later with Seungmin, but then he pushes that thought to the back of his mind, straightens his school uniform, slips on his mask and topcoat and heads out the door.

He practises at JYP until 3am every day, returns home for a shower and a couple hours’ sleep, then takes the first subway to school. He’s always the first to arrive at class, and while waiting for the rest of the world to wake up he sits down and does his unfinished homework before class starts. It’s not easy to solve equations and write essays with a brain that’s barely functioning and running on less than three hours’ sleep every night, but Hyunjin tells himself to suck it up and get on with it. It’s a small price he has to pay for his dream of finally being able to debut. That is, if he doesn’t get eliminated first. The prospect fills him with dread. He’s already been at risk for elimination once. It can’t happen again.

Collapsing into his seat, he pulls out a half-completed essay that’s due today. Fumbling under his desk for his notes, his fingers bump into something solid. He frowns, gripping the object and pulling it out.

To his surprise, it’s a breakfast bar. Hyunjin turns it over and finds a note attached to it.

Hey, I bet you haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Don’t skip your meals! Take care of your health, it’s really important. Stay healthy and hydrated! Fighting! ^^

Dumbfounded, he looks around, wondering who could have come so early as to leave stuff under his desk without him noticing. He’s always the earliest to arrive without fail, so the prospect of someone coming even earlier than him is pretty strange to him.

Even stranger, though, is the fact that the mystery gifter is right. He hasn’t had breakfast, and he doesn’t usually have breakfast in order to save time.

He wonders who it could be. Sure, he has his fair share of fans in school, considering that he’s on a television program and news of his soon-to-be debut is spreading through the school like wildfire. He’s had his fair share of confessions too, from girls who seem to be in love with the idea of dating an up-and-rising Korean pop idol, all of which he politely rejects due to his strict no-dating contract with the company. Anyway, he has zero interest; with his life revolving around nothing but studies, practice and trainee duties, he’s got no time at all to date. Could this mystery person be a fan?

He silently thanks the mystery gifter in his heart, opens the packet and lets the sweet, wholesome taste of honey, granola and almonds fuse and settle on his tongue, charging him with energy for the new day.

—

1 week before

You can’t help but marvel at the sheer dedication and strength of your classmate, Hwang Hyunjin.

You would have long collapsed under the pressure of being on a survival program aired on national TV, having to deal with criticism from JYP that would have made you shit your pants, and still having to handle school along with all those trainee responsibilities. That was precisely why you weren’t a trainee; you had been scouted several times by entertainment companies, during school showcases where industry professionals came to hunt for fresh talents. But you rejected them all, knowing full well that you wouldn’t be able to cope with being a trainee.

But Hwang Hyunjin seemed to take it all in stride, even though he was criticized for his rapping skills and even put at risk for elimination. You can’t even begin to imagine how tiring it must be, getting less than a few hours’ sleep every day, having to balance the survival program and his studies, constantly worrying about the possibility of debut.

“Isn’t he amazing?” Your friend Juhee gushes.

Your purse your lips in reply. To be fair, though you were classmates with Hwang Hyunjin, you had never really properly interacted with him before, so you had no idea what his personality was like. If he managed to remain personable and friendly towards the people around him amidst all the stress and pressure he was under, then he could truly be declared as amazing.

Sure, a ton of trainees and idols attended your school, but having never really been interested in the commercial entertainment industry, you hardly paid attention to them. Heck, you weren’t even aware that Hwang Hyunjin was a trainee until Juhee practically forced you to watch the survival show with you. And then came the discovery that your classmate was a rather popular member of an up-and-rising boy group, Stray Kids.

“I heard he’s really nice too. Haven’t you ever talked to him before?” Juhee asks.

Though Juhee attends the School Of Performing Arts with you, she was in the Department of Theatre & Film, while you belonged to the Department of Practical Dance, so she hardly gets to see Hyunjin. A bitter fact that she wouldn’t stop bugging you about.

“No, I haven’t. And neither do I plan to. It would seem so hypocritical, suddenly trying to talk to him now after finding out he’s a soon-to-be idol, when I’ve been ignoring him all this time. Well, not ignoring, but not exactly bothering to make friends with him.”

“You don’t bother to make friends with anyone,” Juhee points out.

You conclude that this is true. You weren’t exactly the type who thrived in social settings or fed off others’ attention and company. Being able to get into the dance department at SOPA to study dance had been a dream, and you guess you did throw yourself into your studies and especially into dance without caring much for socializing.

“But can you do me a favour? Just for me?” Juhee asks, eyes pleading, and you can’t really say no. Not to her large doe eyes that absolutely melt your heart of ice.

“What is it?” You grumble, doing your best to sound burdened and annoyed.

“Talk to Hwang Hyunjin for me. Pass him a message.”

—

And that’s how you find yourself loitering by Hyunjin’s empty desk after class, a breakfast bar in hand.

You had outrightly refused to talk directly to Hyunjin, so Juhee had armed you with a note for you to pass to him. Even then, you don’t want to pass it to him directly. Why this terrible cowardice, you had no idea.

You had waited for everyone else to leave, because you weren’t about to be caught dead going to Hwang Hyunjin’s desk. You’d be the talk of the school by tomorrow for sure.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly stick the post-it with Juhee’s note on it onto the breakfast bar, then quick as lightning, you thrust it under his desk, on top of his notes.

—

Hyunjin is terribly puzzled.

He’s been receiving regular breakfasts with encouraging notes for three days straight now. Though he appreciates the sweet gesture, he’s absolutely dying to know who’s behind it.

It’s the end of the school day, the third day of receiving a free breakfast with a burst of handwritten motivation. As Hyunjin makes his way out of school to the JYP building, he recalls the message he received this morning: Hey Hyunjin, I know your next mission is coming soon. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure you’ll do amazing! I’ll be cheering you on, fighting! <3

A warm feeling spreads through his heart at the thought. It’s nice to know that someone cares, even if he doesn’t know who the person is.

Suddenly his phone buzzes with a text, interrupting him from his thoughts.

Seungmin: IDIOT DID YOU REALLY STEAL MY DAY6 POSTERS AND LEAVE THEM IN SCHOOL

Hyunjin chuckles, then sends a text back.

Hyunjin: watchu gon do about it

Seungmin: just wait till i get my hands on your precious jinyoung collection

At this, Hyunjin stops short. Seungmin could be the literal spawn of satan when he wanted to, and he knows Seungmin’s threat is real.

Hyunjin: I’M SORRY I’ll GET THEM RIGHT NOW DONT YOU DARE TOUCH MY PHOTOCARDS

Hyunjin turns around and practically sprints back to school.

He reaches his classroom and is about to head straight for his locker, where Seungmin’s Day6 stash remains hidden, but then he sees that the classroom isn’t empty.

There’s someone standing right by his desk, bending down to slip something under his desk.

“Um, excuse me?” Hyunjin asks uncertainly, unsure of who it is.

At the sound of his voice breaking the silence you swerve around and almost fall onto his chair.

Shit. You’ve been discovered.

Your eyes dart nervously from side to side. This is ridiculous, you think to yourself, I’m doing something nice, for Juhee’s sake and for Hyunjin, but why does it feel like I’m doing something wrong?

Hyunjin’s eyes dart to your hand, where you’re gripping a breakfast bar. His eyes widen. Bingo.

“It’s… you? You’re the one who’s been leaving food under my desk every day?”

You involuntarily wince at his slightly accusatory tone, your cheeks turning a bright shade of crimson.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound accusing. It’s just that… I had never expected it to be you. Thank you, really.”

Indeed, Hyunjin has never, for a single moment, suspected that you would be his mystery angel. It wasn’t that he had anything against you; it’s was more like he never really knew you. You had always kept to yourself in class, and when you weren’t studying you were dancing. Or rather, when you weren’t dancing you were studying. If he were being completely honest with himself you did pique his interest, since you were he only person whom he’s never interacted with before. He often wondered what you were like, wondered why you came across as rather cold and unfriendly, wondered if he should try to make friends with you.

So naturally, you would be the least likely person to leave food, along with sweet notes, under his desk.

“These aren’t from me,” you say matter-of-factly, “they’re from my friend from another department. She’s a fan of yours so she asked me to help her give you stuff. Sorry if I freaked you out.”

At this, Hyunjin feels a slight twinge of disappointment, a feeling he can’t explain. Why would it matter that the gifts weren’t from you but from a fan? It was equally heartwarming all the same.

“Oh… so they’re not from you?”

“Nope. You should thank my friend instead.”

“Yes… please help me thank her. I really appreciate it,” Hyunjin says, flashing you a smile, which you awkwardly try to return but it comes out looking more like a grimace.

“Okay,” you say to him, before slinging your backpack over your shoulder and leaving the classroom.

—

You feel a little bad.

You don’t know why, but Hyunjin looked a little crestfallen when you told him the gifts weren’t from you.

You head to Juhee’s class to tell her that you’ve been discovered and to get Hyunjin’s note and breakfast for tomorrow, when you catch her practically bouncing out of class.

“Hey, so I’ve been found out. Hyunjin caught me today. He says thanks for everything.”

Juhee’s grin simply grows wider. “That’s completely fine! I was gonna tell you that you don’t have to do it anymore. I guess this just seals the deal.”

“Oh, why though?”

Juhee leans towards your ear and whispers conspiratorially, “I’ve moved on to stanning Seungmin now.”

It takes you all your willpower not to throttle your best friend.

—

You don’t miss out on the changes that take place over the next few days.

Hyunjin seems more quiet than usual. Usually during breaks he would be the first to dash out of class to the cafeteria with his group of friends, but lately he’s been skipping meals, choosing instead to stay in and practise his rap or dance. And when you watch the latest episode of his survival show, you know why.

It’s the busking mission. The group has to prepare a public performance in Sinchon for next mission. He’s probably nervous about it, since it’s the first time the group will perform for the public, amidst screaming fangirls and several mystery listeners who’ll be in charge of evaluating them.

Though his friends offer to get him food, he refuses them all, saying that he’s got no time to eat. You wonder how he’s still functioning. He gets to school the earliest, and after school practises into the wee hours of the night, getting only a few hours of sleep or possibly none at all. And if he’s not even eating enough, there’s no way he’ll make it through to the next mission without collapsing of exhaustion and malnutrition first.

This won’t do.

With a takeaway bento box in your hands, you march right up to Hyunjin’s desk where he’s practicing rapping with a pen in his mouth. You place the box onto his table, a little too harshly, for he jerks back in his seat in shock, yanking the pen away from his mouth.

“H-Hey,” he says nervously, startled by your sudden appearance.

“You need to eat,” you say, making an extra effort to be gentle, trying to tone it down and not speak in your usual curt manner. The boy already looks troubled enough.

“I can’t,” Hyunjin retorts, “I have to practise-,”

“You won’t be able to practise well if you’re not eating enough. Just shut up and eat. It won’t take you long,” you say before turning to go back to your seat.

“Wait.”

You turn back around to face him again.

“Is this from your friend?”

You shake your head no.

“So it’s from you?”

You roll your eyes. “No, it’s from JYP himself. He’s about to kick you off Stray Kids if you don’t start taking care of yourself.”

Hyunjin looks confused for a moment, then the realization you’re being sarcastic hits him. A slow grin spreads over his lips.

“Thank you. I really appreciate this. Even more so since it’s from you.”

—

Hyunjin doesn’t know what’s come over him.

Maybe it bothers him that you don’t seem to want to make friends with him. Maybe he wants you to notice him. Maybe he wants to impress you. Maybe he wants another fan.

Whichever way it is, he questions his sanity when he follows you after school to the bus stop without you noticing.

“Hey!”

You turn around, unsure what to make of Hwang Hyunjin running towards you. Did I drop something? you wonder, patting your pockets.

You look at him expectantly when he’s reached you. He’s just standing there, hands in his pockets, avoiding eye contact with you. You decide to speak first.

“Did you eat?”

Hyunjin looks relieved at you speaking up first. “Y-Yes. It was good. Thank you again.”

“Okay, good. Bye!” You really need help reading social situations.

“No, wait! I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

Hyunjin fidgets awkwardly with his hands. “I don’t know how to say this… so I’m just gonna… um… C-Can you come watch me busk at Sinchon?”

Your jaw drops and you gawk at him in a highly unattractive manner.

“I-If you don’t want to it’s okay! It would just really mean a lot to me if you came-- shit, I mean it would be really, um, cool if you could drop by. Free entertainment, you know?” Hyunjin stammers, and almost kicks himself at how awkwardly incoherent he is in front of you. There goes his image of the powerful, charismatic dancer of the group.

You blink once, still trying to process his request.

“Okay. I’ll go.”

Hyunjin’s face lights up in an instant. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You decide not to tell him that Juhee has already forced you into going the day prior.

“T-Thank you so much! See you!” Hyunjin says happily before scooting away in the opposite direction. He almost trips on a pebble on the sidewalk.

Cute, you think to yourself.

—

You don’t think you’ve been anywhere more crowded or chaotic in your life.

Juhee has dragged you right to the front row amid hordes of screaming fangirls holding up their phones with names illuminated on the screens. Felix. Seungmin. Hyunjin. Jeongin. Bang Chan. Jisung. Changbin.

“Seungmin-ah!” Juhee screeches when the group reveals themselves and does their standard introductory greeting.

Your eyes move to Hyunjin, who’s licking his lips nervously, his eyes scanning the crowd. You wonder if he’s looking for you, whether you should call out to him. But then a ton of other girls are screaming his name, so you won’t be heard anyway.

And then by some stroke of luck he glances in your direction and locks gazes with you. He smiles, relieved that you did come. He has to keep himself from waving at you.

You hold up two fists, mentally trying to communicate, Fighting! His grin grows even wider.

“All right, we’ll be kicking things off with our first song, Hellevator. Please enjoy!” Bang Chan announces, and the group quickly gets into position.

Over the course of the night, you are amazed with the sheer talent and presence these boys possess. You can’t imagine performing in front of such a crowd. Through the night you keep your eyes peeled on Hyunjin, not on purpose, but it just happens naturally; his charisma tears through the stage, permeating through the audience. He is, indeed, a powerful, highly skilled dancer, and you can’t help but fall completely in love with his performance.

Back at school on Monday, you approach Hyunjin directly.

“You did really well the other night,” you say.

“Thank you! I was really happy to see you. Thanks for coming.”

You smile back at him, finding his goofy grin endearing. “It’s no problem. Keep it up, but remember to take care of yourself. Good luck for whatever’s next,” you say, before turning to leave.

“Y/N, wait,” Hyunjin says, grabbing your wrist to stop you. You look back at him questioningly.

“C-Can we be friends?” He asks, eyes downcast.

You cock your head to the side, eyebrows furrowed.

“Aren’t we already?”

At this, Hyunjin breaks out into a huge grin, the biggest you’ve ever seen him smile. His eyes disappear into a line, cute crinkles forming around his eyes. You find his goofy smile terribly endearing.

“Yeah, we are.”

—

December 19, 2017

Hyunjin looks out towards the sea of faces, dreading the feeling of his heart hammering violently against his chest. He can’t seem to relax or shake off his nerves, not since today is the day that seals his fate. The day that decides whether or not he will debut with his group members as nine.

He can’t seem to calm down. When the emcee asks him to smile for the audience he can only give a forced smile, jaw clenched in nervousness.

He scans the crowd, eyes skimming over the throngs of fans screaming his name. So many people, so many expectations. He knows he is adored, and yet, that only gives him more pressure to perform well so that he won’t disappoint.

He grits his teeth as he gets into position for the first song. The end is in sight, he tells himself, just give it your best shot, Hwang Hyunjin.

A couple districts away, you set your laptop on your bed, tuning into the live broadcast of Stray Kids’ last mission. Though you wouldn’t admit it, you had been praying for Hyunjin, hoping that he and his group would make it to debut. You had missed majority of the performances because you were studying late at your after-school academy, and you hoped you hadn’t missed the final verdict.

“... It is true that a seven-member stage had no mistakes, and is more stable and perfect. A nine-member stage is imperfect and lacking. But when all nine of you perform, your expressions and energy come alive. Congratulations, you will debut as nine.”

You break out into a smile as you watch the boys begin to sob in relief. Satisfied, you power down your laptop.

Good work, Hwang Hyunjin.

—

“Hwang Hyunjin!”

The boy turns around and his face lights up in recognition at the sight of you. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Congratulations,” you say, sticking out your hand for a handshake, “you’re going to debut.”

Hyunjin glances down at your outstretched hand. Then, without warning, he grabs it and pulls you towards him, opening up his arms to embrace you.

Hyunjin hugs you tightly to him, unwilling to let go. Startled by the gesture, you don’t react at first, staying frozen in your spot, hoping that he can’t feel your heart pounding against your ribcage at this unexpected contact.

Finally, when you feel comfortable enough, you respond by wrapping your arms around his broad back.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin murmurs into your shoulder.

You smile into his chest, unconsciously patting his back in response.

“You did really well, Hyunjin. I’ll support you every step of the way,” you say sincerely.

He pulls away, eyes brimming with hopefulness.

“Can I be your bias?”

a/n; i was inspired to write this after watching their predebut survival show, and after watching the segment where hyunjin goes to school the earliest and is the first to arrive in class, we love a hardworking boy <3 huhu should i turn this into a series/ make a continuation part about how y/n and hyunjin’s relationship progresses after his debut?? idkidkidkidk;;; also thank you guys so much for all the support on my previous jeongin fic thunderstruck, i rlly wasn't expecting it!! (yes i changed the name hehe)

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfiction #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fanfiction #stray kids #stray kids hyunjin

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