#i can't go for that/you make my dreams | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keldae · 15 days

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Musings

Gale couldn't remember the last time he had slept with someone – spending his time asleep wrapped in a lover's arms had been before Mystra. He hadn't ever needed to sleep when he was with his goddess in her realm, and she would never have come to the mortal planes to spend an entire night with him. So sharing his bedroll now was… unusual.

Not a bad type of unusual, he admitted to himself. But still unusual. And it was even more unusual that he hadn't had relations with his bed partner yet – that hadn't ever been a situation he'd found himself in, during the years before Mystra.

But then, with the orb in his chest… having sex was out of the question.

Unable to shut his mind off, he propped his head up on his pillow, looking down at the half-Elf who had stolen his blankets, and was trying to steal his heart. Devi was dead to the world, squished tightly against Gale's side, coppery hair loose around her head. Gale smiled fondly down at the little half-Elf, watching as a few strands of her hair moved with every slow breath past her parted lips.

What are you seeing in your dreams tonight, Devi? he thought, gazing down at the thief. Hopefully her dreams were pleasant tonight. He didn't think she'd had a bad nightmare since they'd started sleeping together in the Underdark – he definitely had had pleasant dreams while sharing his tent and bedroll with her. Are you in Baldur's Gate, thriving as a little thief? Or are you thinking of the halfling and the dwarves from the book we read tonight? She had seemed to enjoy the story he had read to her.

Devi shifted slightly, rolling onto her side, facing Gale. Before he was quite aware of it, he was reaching to gently brush the loose strands of hair out of her face, tucking the locks behind one delicately pointed ear. His thumb touched her lips, slowly tracing the outline of her mouth. For a moment, he felt an unspeakable yearning for the woman sleeping beside him. If her thoughts during their lesson in the Weave were any indication, she wanted to kiss Gale, despite his affliction – and gods knew he desperately wanted to give her that kiss. He wanted to know what it would feel like to press his lips against hers, to let his tongue meet her own, to taste her mouth and breathe in her exhales as he fulfilled the vision she had shared with him of a kiss…

He closed his eyes, trying to force his mind away from the dangerous thoughts of kissing the woman with him. He'd spent the last year struggling to stabilise the orb – he couldn't risk his mental discipline failing him now. If he killed them all because of letting himself think too much, too enthusiastically, of kissing a beautiful girl… He wanted to groan in frustration.

Except that would have woken Devi up. He settled for silently scolding himself instead. Get a grip, Dekarios!

Besides, Devi wouldn't – couldn't – truly love a broken man like Gale was. He was older than she was, by quite a few years – and in trying to keep up with her youthful half-Elven exuberance, he definitely felt every tenday of his age in comparison to her. And he was irreparably broken, only a shadow of the man and wizard he had been a year and a half ago. He was the reject of a goddess, damned by his own foolishness, and doomed to meet an explosive end alone.

In comparison, Devi was young, and full of life and fire and optimism. She had had a poor start in life – any child born poor in the Lower City of Baldur's Gate had a disadvantage. But she was smart, and stubborn, and if she was given the correct support, she could exceed any expectations for a girl born as a poor urchin. Maybe, Gale thought, he could leave a note leaving his wealth to her after he met his unavoidable end? Or he could just give her the key to his tower in Waterdeep before he inevitably had to leave the party to die somewhere safer. If she could cure her tadpole, maybe she could live on, somewhere safer than Baldur's Gate. And it would be a good use for the money and wealth he had, rather than leaving it all to rot. It wasn’t like Tara would really be able to use it, after all.

But he digressed. Devi was too young for him to pursue romantically, too vibrant, too lively to tie herself to a damned man. In another life, if they had ever even crossed paths, they would never have given each other a second thought (unless Devi had identified him as a pickpocketing target… which, Gale knew she would have targeted him in a heartbeat.). Even if he hadn't been damned, they were in entirely different social circles. Imagine the scandal, if he were to return to Waterdeep with an uneducated, uncouth, younger Baldurian thief, and one who could swear like a well-educated mercenary at that, as his lover!

Gale grinned for a moment, imagining the reactions of some of his more class-conscious peers. His amusement faded with a sigh as he looked back down at Devi. You don't deserve as grim a fate as tying yourself to me would give you, he thought. You're too alive and hopeful to bind yourself to a broken, damned man. In another life, one where he wasn't a walking explosive, he might have still taken her to bed, trying to perhaps prove that being this much older than her just meant he was more experienced with pleasing a lover. And he was pretty certain he had pleased Mystra when he was the goddess’s lover – he could have wowed Devi with his command of the Weave in bed. He had already impressed her with their magic lesson after the tiefling party, and that had been tame! What he could have done behind a sound dampening ward to blow her away and make her cry out his name in bliss, over and over again…

Speaking of blowing away, he firmly turned his thoughts away from the idea of bedding Devi, thinking about spell incantations instead. The orb rumbled in his chest, but remained calm for the moment as his heart settled back down.

With another sigh, he stroked Devi's hair back from her face again. Where will your mind take you tonight? Will you dream of me? You really shouldn't – I'm a dead man walking. You deserve better than a broken heart. Although, wasn't he bold, to think that Devi might care for him the way he did her? What could he possibly offer her besides his knowledge of the arcane? He was doomed twice over – once from the illithid tadpole, and once from his own idiocy. She at least still had a chance at a normal life once she was cured of the tadpole.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would start trying to distance himself from her. It would hurt her in the short term, and it would be agony for him, but it was for the best. She deserved better than to develop affections for a man who had nothing before him but an explosive death. Maybe he could subtly point her in the direction of Wyll – the warlock, despite his devilish appearance, was a good man. He was certainly a better man than the wizard who had tried to advance himself beyond mortal limitations to impress a goddess – and even with Wyll’s pact to a devil, he had a hope for a future beyond a destructive death alone. And he was younger, and handsome, and full of life and vigour, and could crack a joke to make even Devi groan while she was laughing…

Gods, this was already breaking Gale's heart.

But Devi would be happy with Wyll. Or maybe Shadowheart, if Wyll didn’t strike her fancy – the two half-Elves seemed to have a close connection already. Even if Shadowheart was a Sharran, Devi didn't seem to think less of her for it. Or Karlach, as boisterous and friendly as she was, would be a good match for the feisty little thief.

None of them were a depressed middle-aged wizard who had already exceeded his potential and his usefulness to Faerûn.

Gale sighed yet again and started to roll away from Devi onto his side, trying to get some sleep. In the morning he would talk to Devi, and see if the thief would be receptive to the idea of spending her nights apart from him. Certainly, she would be upset at first – Gale fully expected to get slapped. But she had to see the logic eventually, right? She was more than smart enough, even if she was uneducated –

At his side, Devi softly moaned in protest of his movements. Her hand reached up, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down on his back again. Before Gale could do anything, the little half-Elf wrapped her arm around his stomach and settled her head on his chest, squirming until she was comfortable. Once she was satisfied with her human pillow, she sighed and draped her leg over his before she fell fully back to sleep, peacefully lost in her dreams.

Shit. This was not doing a damn thing to help Gale reconcile himself to letting go of her. She felt so damn good beside him, warm and snuggly, tucked under his arm where she belonged. How in the Nine Hells was he supposed to separate himself from her when she did things like this to him? His heart twisted in his chest at how serenely innocent she looked. She trusted him enough to sleep with him, even with the orb in his chest that could kill them all in an instant. Hells, she was sleeping on him now, only inches from the ugly markings he bore!

And she didn't seem to be bothered by that in the slightest.

“Why do you do this to me?” Gale whispered to the woman at his side. Giving up, he wrapped his arm around her, holding her closer to him. Was it his imagination, or did a little smile flicker over her lips as she felt him embrace her? He inwardly groaned – there was no way he could force himself to let go of her, or make her let go of him, when she so effortlessly held his heart in her hands. He was dooming her, every night that he slept with her, every time he read a book for her, every time he gave her a kind word or a smile or a gentle touch.

She would never let go of him in the way she needed to, in order to save herself from him and his grim fate. And Gale knew she would only call him a “self-destructive hopeless idiot”, or something similar, and cling tighter to him if he tried to talk to her about this and make her see sense.

Was she wrong, though?

Frustrated, Gale closed his eyes again and tried to will himself to sleep. Perhaps in the morning, he could think of a way to gently turn Devi from him and to a partner who actually had a future. It would break his heart, but it was better than dragging her down with him.

But maybe he could allow himself one more night of holding Devi against his heart and wishing he could safely confess his love for her. He sighed, forcing himself to resist the urge to kiss her hair, or her forehead, or those perfect lips. If he started kissing her even innocently right now, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop, not until the orb ended him. But gods, he wished he could… He could have died happy while kissing her, but it wasn't worth the risk he posed to everyone else in a ten-mile radius. Nobody else deserved to die while he indulged himself in kissing the woman he wanted – especially not the woman in question.

He sighed, shifting as much as he dared until he was comfortable under Devi. His other hand came up to slowly card his fingers through her loose hair, a soothing motion that made her contentedly hum in her sleep. Dammit, Devi, he thought, you make it too easy for me to love you.

That thought made him blink his eyes open again. Was this…? He thought for a moment, then sighed. Yes – this was love he felt for the woman in his arms. This was adoration, and devotion, and more than a bit of strongly-denied lust. He wanted her in every way possible – emotionally, and in spirit, and yes, physically too.

But he wanted her safe and happy, even more than he wanted her with him. If you really love her, then you have to let her go, he tried to tell himself. Doesn't she deserve better than to be with you? Wyll would make her happy.

But what if she doesn't want Wyll? What if–

He firmly shut down the little voice in his mind before it could make the suggestion that maybe the woman in his arms wanted him. Nobody with any sense would want the older, broken, damned man that he was.

Then again, just that day, Astarion had been very enthusiastic in telling Devi that she had no sense, or self-preservation instincts, whatsoever…

Shut up. He scowled, then tugged the blankets up a little higher over himself and Devi. Just go to sleep. With any luck, Devi will see the truth herself without any prodding. And if she doesn't… it will hurt, but it will save her in the long term to break from her.

He sighed, then settled in to sleep, savouring what he was determined would be his last night holding the woman he loved.

—

Only a couple of hours later, Gale awoke to the sound of a whimper. He opened his eyes, frowning into the darkness of his tent until he heard a stifled sob from the half-Elf in his arms. He mumbled the incantation for a light cantrip, looking at Devi with anxiety spiking in his chest.

She didn't appear to be hurt. But her brow was furrowed as if she was in pain, and she was shaking. “Stop…” she whispered, flinching from something only she could see. “Please…”

Worried, Gale gently shook her shoulder. “Devi,” he lowly said, softly calling her name. “You're dreaming. You need to wake up.”

Devi didn't seem to hear him. She flinched again as though she'd been struck. “No,” she begged whoever was tormenting her. “You're hurting me!”

Gale shook her again, fear making the motion a little harder. “Devi,” he spoke her name again, a little louder. “Wake up, darling. I have you – you're safe. Wake up.”

His words didn't seem to be getting through. Devi whimpered again, her fingers tightening in Gale's shirt. “Please… help me… stop!” Her next words made Gale's heart twist in his chest. “No! Not Gale! Please!”

“Shhhh.” Gale shook her again and pressed his lips to her hair. “It's all right, darling. You're safe. Wake up now.” He lowered his lips to her ear as she whimpered again. “Wake up, Devi. You're safe… you're safe. I promise. Wake up. Wake up!”

Devi's twitching and flinching finally slowed, then stopped as Gale kept kissing her hair and whispering soothing reassurances to her. He finally felt her clutch his shirt a little tighter as she turned her head up to him. “Gale?” she whispered, her voice tiny and broken.

“I'm here,” Gale murmured, relief washing through his veins. “I have you. You're safe – it was just a dream, dear one. You're perfectly safe.”

“Oh, gods.” Still shaking, Devi buried her face in the crook of Gale's neck, clinging to him. “You were… you were…”

“Shhh,” Gale whispered. “I'm here.” He took her hand, guiding it to rest over his beating heart so she could feel his pulse. “I’m here. You’re all right – and so am I. Just breathe.” He heard a little sob from the woman he was holding, and felt his heart break for her. “Shhh. Breathe with me, Devi. Can you feel me breathing?” He waited until she nodded into his neck. “That’s my girl. Breathe with me, darling.” He focused on taking slow, calming breaths to make his chest move enough for her to easily feel him. For the first few breaths, Devi couldn’t quite match his slow breathing – stifled sobs made her body jerk unevenly under his arm. But as the minutes passed, she seemed to find his rhythm with breathing, her inhales slowly coming to match his as she calmed down from her nightmare.

“Thank you,” she finally mumbled, slowly pulling her face out of his neck. There was a suspicious wetness on her cheeks that told Gale she’d been crying into his skin; indeed, he could feel her tears on him. “I’m sorry–”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Gale murmured, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. He offered her a small, reassuring smile. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Devi started to shake her head, then hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “I… told you how my father’s a gods-damned bastard that not even the hells want?” she asked, her voice low and quiet.

Gale nodded. “You’ve told me he’s a terrible person and you plan on dancing on his grave when he dies,” he softly answered. “Or using his grave for a latrine. Perhaps both.”

Devi made a little sound that Gale thought was trying to be a laugh, a laugh mingled with a sob. “He deserves it. He and his friends, they…” She took a shaky breath, not looking at Gale’s face. “They were hurting me, and then they… they decided to hurt you when you appeared in the dream — I think you were trying to save me? But they… gods, the things they did…”

“Shhh.” Gale pulled Devi’s face back into the crook of his neck; she went to him willingly, clinging to him. “We’re both all right – there’s nothing to be afraid of in this tent.” Except the orb, and the tadpoles, and the threat of the Absolute, and the small-but-still-present risk that Mystra would simply spontaneously detonate the orb in Gale’s chest to kill him and everyone around him – Gale shook his head. “We’re safe here. Nobody can hurt you when I’m here to protect you.”

“They hurt you,” Devi mumbled. “They were hurting you, and they were going to kill you, and–”

“Shhh. It was just a bad dream, darling. I’m entirely unhurt, and so are you.” Gale hesitated for a moment, then chuckled. “And you can tell your subconscious that I don’t fear a thief and his henchmen. I might be outnumbered, but I would make them regret facing me before falling.”

Devi trembled again in his arms. “You couldn’t fight,” she whispered, quiet enough that Gale almost couldn’t hear her. “You… you were trying to save me. If you had fought them… they would have hurt me more.”

Apparently Devi’s subconscious knew Gale well enough to know that this was a truth about him. If that nightmare had been reality… Gale knew he would have stopped fighting the instant it became clear that his resistance would have endangered the woman he loved. “Shhh,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “It was just a dream. Your father can’t hurt either of us here.”

He felt Devi slowly nod, but she still clung to him, shaking like a leaf. He suspected that she was probably too scared to easily go back to sleep. With a grunt, he reached out for the book they had been reading earlier that evening – or rather, that he had been reading to her. Nudging the lights to where he could more easily see the pages, he opened the book back where they had left off. “Shall I try to get your mind back onto a more soothing subject?” he asked. At her hesitant nod, he kissed her hair again, then started quietly reading the next chapter. The halfling and dwarves had been caught by ogres, and were being argued over by said ogres who couldn’t decide how to cook them properly. It was one of Gale’s favourite scenes in the book, and Devi seemed to be entranced by the story normally. Indeed, she seemed to calm down as he read to her, shifting from having her face buried in his neck, to resting her cheek on his shoulder.

As Gale came to the end of the chapter, he looked down to see Devi’s eyes closed and her lips slightly parted again, her breathing soft and slow. He wasn’t sure when she had fallen asleep again, but he was grateful that she had found rest. Careful to not disturb her, he replaced the bookmark in the pages, then set the book back down and extinguished the lights over their heads. Devi grunted as he slowly rested on the pillow again, then snuggled up as closely as she could to him.

Gale sighed softly, running his hand over her hair soothingly. Apparently this was the gods’ way of foiling his plan to break apart from Devi before anything could begin with them. Who else was going to cuddle the little half-Elf after her nightmares? Who else would read to her to get her mind off her fear again? Try as Gale might, he couldn’t imagine Devi snuggling up so closely to Wyll, or Shadowheart, or Karlach, or any of their other friends in the party. For some reason, she had chosen Gale, doomed and damned as he was.

Guilt and hope surged in equal amounts in his heart – guilt because he was dragging Devi down with him, and hope because maybe he wasn’t quite as broken and useless as he believed himself to be. Maybe Devi saw something in him that he couldn’t see or acknowledge himself.

It would have been easier if she didn’t see anything in him, he thought.

He yawned and let himself cuddle Devi closely, doing his best to make sure she felt protected and safe in his arms. “No harm will come to you if I can help it,” he promised her in a whisper. “You are safe with me.” Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek on her hair and let himself fall back asleep, praying that Devi’s dreams for the rest of the night (and his, he supposed) would be peaceful.

If you dream of me again, dear one… dream of the happiness that I can’t give you in reality. Please don’t dream of either of us suffering for the other, he thought before sleep reclaimed him.

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jungkook97 · 1 year

Text

fling;; jjk

pairing: canon idol!jungkook x reporter!reader

word count: 4.6k

rating: ma

genre/warnings: romance, angst

summary: you were interviewing bangtan and couldn't help but felt a level of closeness to the youngest member. soon after, jungkook ended up taking a liking to you, proposing that you two should meet up throughout the week while he was in town for a little fun.

notes: this has been a fantasy of mine. it's angst as usual, but it's more so of lost connections that the boys may have upon going on these promo cycles overseas.

this also exists within the decision to leave jungkook fictional universe from the perspective of the reader.

You were nervous. Very nervous.

Your hands were shaking a bit, clammy as you wiped the sweat off on your dress as you checked your Apple Watch for the fifteenth time. It wouldn’t really change anything but more so of a tick that you had whenever you were nervous.

It was the first time you were assigned to interview with an A-list celebrity, or rather, an A-list group. You followed their careers from nearly the beginning, slowly becoming a major fan (minus the unhinged nature of being a stan, of course). It was as if you were living your dreams out in reality, something that you never thought in a hundred years or even this lifetime that you could do.

And so, you held your breath as the time ticked closer and closer to their arrival. The staff had arrived to go over some topics that you couldn’t talk about, the usual: dating, anything super personal, and anything that would be anti-capitalistic (although you had a feeling that some of the members wouldn’t have minded having such conversations). You knew the drill at that point as you zoned off, thinking about how you would be interviewing the biggest band in the world, talking to them and them actually responding back to you in real time.

It was hard to grasp for you. Like everyone else, you always saw BTS as a group that meets a lot of people every single day, not really being able to distinguish faces or fully pay attention like operating on autopilot. The idea that they would be perceiving you drove you insane as your heart thumped ever so loudly in your eardrums, wondering who you saved in a past life to deserve interviewing a group you admired for so long.

Eventually, the time came to usher them in, and you held your breath in anticipation, continuing to self-soothe yourself by rubbing your hands on your thighs as they walked in one by one, looking exactly the same. You had seen them in concert in the press boxes, maybe a few times up close as a fan, but having them bow to you in greeting…it was a lot.

“H-hi,” you mustered all the courage to start the greeting, meeting eyes with every single member slowly, taking it all in. They responded, leaving your heart leaping for joy and also with an uncomfortable, but not uneasy feeling in your throat. You felt like it caught a mass while you were waiting for them, but you knew it was just simply nerves. “S-sorry if I’m too nervous around y’all–”

All of them started chuckling, with Namjoon putting his hands up in attempt to comfort you (it did a bit).

“It is totally okay,” Namjoon spoke in his usual deep voice, perhaps an octave lower than you anticipated. “We get this pretty often, actually.”

You flushed in embarrassment, shifting in your seat trying to feel a bit more comfortable. You could feel the heat of all seven of them having their undivided attention to you, and the studio lights being as hot too. You weren’t sure if you were sweating everywhere else, if you smelled, if you shaved enough to get rid of any peach fuzz, or if you put enough makeup to look just as gorgeous as they were.

It didn’t matter anymore. You were in the moment. Too late to go back now.

You took a quick deep breath, exhaling slowly as you heard your cameraperson stating that they were ready to roll.

“Let’s begin.”

It was easier than expected. Your nerves got the best of you at first as you stuttered the first few questions out before taking a five minute break. It was embarrassing, but the boys understood, trying to coax you and comfort you by stating that they get it often.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to be another young fan acting like a high school girl around their crush!” you laughed, wiping your tears away from the welling of tears as you were overstimulated (you had disclosed to them awkwardly about your neurodivergence, something that Yoongi immediately nodded and expressed his understanding much to your surprise).

“You’d be surprised,” Namjoon reassured, smiling. “There was a male reporter earlier that kept freaking out about Jin-hyung.”

“Really?” you chuckled as the members nodded in agreement, talking to their oldest in Korean, probably teasing him. You weren’t fluent in Korean, but you could tell from Jin’s red ears that they were making fun of the situation.

“Yeah, it was funny,” Hoseok said, his light and bouncy voice filling up the room. He had become as fluent as Namjoon was over the past year after having spent a year in the U.S. after his enlistment. “Like, I think he got a…crush?”

“Ey, no~” Seokjin protested, you understand for him to disagree. He spoke some more, in which the interpreter from the earpiece all of you had translated, “He was a fan of all of us.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was just you,” Hoseok pressed via interpreter. “I can tell he was one of us,” he pointed to him and Jimin (the both of them had come out to the public two weeks ago together as a part of the LGBTQ+ community).

“A crush, huh? Worldwide Handsome getting everyone!” you laughed as the interpreter did as well, translating for the rest of the team. Everyone agreed, giggling as well.

“Can we continue?” Namjoon piped in, his index finger imitating an old film camera rolling. You nodded, gesturing to the cameraman to continue.

You and BTS talked about a lot of things at length, questions that you never thought you would ever say to them. Surprisingly, a lot of the more “controversial” opinions got past the company, perhaps from all the work the boys had done to be as transparent to the fans as possible. Most of what you speculated the boys had felt during their hiatus were validated, and some were debunked to your surprise. You were shocked to learn that most of them had a lot of control over their solo activities, if not complete control despite what the conversation was at the time on Twitter.

Eventually, the boys turned the mic back to you, asking something that caught you off guard.

“We heard you’re a huge fan of Jungkook’s,” Jimin beamed in mischief, nudging the youngest to pay attention. Jungkook had barely spoken at that point, but you had felt his eyes on you the entire time, getting you a bit flustered sometimes.

Jimin wasn’t wrong. You were the biggest fan of Jungkook’s, mostly ever since his sudden glow-up with his tattoo sleeve. You had a soft spot for the kid (you were a few years older than him), and seeing him grow into this confident and sexy late-20 something was satisfying for you to see.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered out, your hands covering your mouth in shock. “How did you guys know?”

“Ah…” Jimin trailed off, looking towards his other members. “I think Namjoon-hyung found your Twitter fan account yesterday?”

Fuck.

“What?!” you exclaimed, standing up. The members cracked up as Namjoon began to protest, putting his hands up. “You stalked me?!” you asked teasingly.

“No! It’s just…” Namjoon started stuttering as well, caught in the act. “I heard from our translator that you were a big fan and so, I did some digging…”

“Well, you did a lot of digging!” you argued back, laughing and flushing madly. You didn’t want to look at Jungkook at this point, although you felt he was embarrassed based on how much he was shifting in his seat from the corner of your eye.

You felt like you wanted to die. Die in a sense, you now knew that Namjoon saw your unhinged tweets about the group’s maknae. You wondered how far he scrolled down, if he saw your tweets crying about Jungkook’s sparkly ensemble at the last concert stop a few days ago that amassed to tens of thousands of tweets. You wondered how he even found it, considering that you didn’t even follow your fan account on your public one. Maybe you forgot to unlink it on your YouTube account, or maybe you had accidentally shared the numbers on your Instagram. It didn’t matter: Namjoon found it.

It grew awkwardly quiet, and you could still feel the gaze from the youngest. You were too scared to even look at him. What if he thought you were insane or unhinged? Did Namjoon even show the tweets to him? You were mortified at the thought of him staring in disbelief.

What was even worse is that he knew before you guys officially met, meaning he had been staring at you the entire time in silence, probably mortified that an obsessed, crazed fan of his was conducting the interview. In fact, it made sense as to why he was so quiet: he probably was judging you for being batshit nuts on your stan account about him.

“Ah, I shouldn’t have said that,” Jimin sighed loudly, his words being translated. “Now it’s all awkward…”

“N-no, it’s okay,” you lied, shuffling your interview cards. “I had a feeling you guys have your burner Twitter accounts just watching us,” you squinted your eyes at Namjoon. His cheeks turned red as you did the same, your heart fluttering.

“It’s just Namjoon,” Hoseok emphasized, even though you knew that to be a lie. “He has too much time in his hands.”

“Ey, shut up,” Namjoon said in Korean, chuckling. “Well…don’t you want to say something to Jungkook, maybe?”

You blinked.

“Say what?”

He shrugged, smiling.

“I don’t know, I thought you guys would be the type to want to say something to someone you really admire. I’m sure Jungkook would like to hear from his biggest fan,” he teased.

You blushed madly, laughing nervously.

“I didn’t prepare or anything,” you began making excuses, your eyes slowly moving toward Jungkook’s direction to gauge his reaction. It took a few seconds, probably from the interpreter for him to understand what was going on before he sat up straight immediately, clearing his throat.

“Yeah!” Jungkook exclaimed a bit too loudly, clearing his throat again. “I wanna…hear.”

The rest of the members echoed the same sentiments.

“Ah fuck,” you muttered. Not BTS putting you on the spot to confess your feelings. It wasn’t something you really wanted to do in front of the entire group and the crew, but the crew kept pressuring you to do it. After all, it would make great TikTok content. It was then you turned away from the group, just dying from embarrassment.

“Come on, it would be so cute,” your PD encouraged you.

“But it’s so embarrassing,” you whined as you flushed wildly, your back toward the group. “I have so much to say.”

“I’m sure Jungkook wants to hear all of it. He seems to really like you!”

Your heart skipped a beat from hearing that. That was true, the group and you kept having great laughs and teases throughout the entire interview.

“Fine, fine.”

You took a deep breath, nodding towards Nicole, their interpreter. You could see Jungkook leaning in closer as you began.

“You’ve always been my favorite,” you began. “And uh, I always admired that you always did what you wanted no matter how many people said you shouldn’t. You’re strong and rebellious, something that I admire because I wish I had half of that strength…”

You closed your eyes at this point, your eyes swirling in its eye sockets. You couldn’t believe you were saying this to Jungkook who was right in front of you. For a moment, you forgot that you were interviewing him, that it was a professional setting. You felt like you needed to say all of this, knowing full well how much Jungkook had felt insecure about his image change and how he was being perceived. He was pretty explicit about that in the recent lives you were able to catch, and you wanted to comfort him.

“And I know that a lot of people have a lot to say about you, and as an older fan, I just want to say…not all of us are like that. I’m not, at least. I want you to be happy, to be loved, to be able to not be restricted by society’s standards. I want you to know that I will always love you no matter what, that you will always be my favorite person. I hope one day, you will find someone or something that will make you feel like home, Jungkook. I want…”

You swallowed.

“I want you to be comforted. And unconditionally loved.”

You sighed deeply, shaking your head as you opened your eyes, looking right at Jungkook. You felt a bit confident after all of that as Nicole continued translating for him. He was listening intently, crossing his arms trying to digest all that you said.

“Ah…” he vocalized a few times, nodding his head. His eyes grew glassy as he closed his eyes a bit.

There was silence, this time more comfortable than before. You held your breath in anticipation, wondering how he reacted to that. Was it too much? Were you being a little too extra?

Fuck, that was too much was it.

“I’m sorry if that’s a lot,” you blubbered out, putting your hands up in defense. “I…kind of lost myself there.”

A moment of silence for the translations.

Jungkook laughed.

“Ah, it’s okay,” he said in Korean. “Uh…”

He smacked his lips together, his eyes looking at the floor sheepishly. He then looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness and joy.

“Thank you,” his voice echoed in your skull as he thanked you in English.

You looked away abruptly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. It was a lot, and you felt like you could die at any moment.

“Uh, let’s take a break, yeah?” Namjoon piped in. You agreed, taking your lavalier mic off and running straight to the bathroom.

Or rather, let’s end this so I can die in a corner, probably.

It wasn’t long until the interview was over, much to your dismay. While it felt like you were floating on clouds, it felt too short, too professional for your liking.

Ever since your confession though, you felt a pair of eyes intently following your every movement, or so you thought anyways. You never once coded Jungkook’s stare to be intense, but he was quite attentive after your little spiel, nodding and laughing at your jokes (even though it was off by a few seconds for translations). You wished that you were native in your own tongue, but as the interview went on, you surprisingly knew more than you thought, laughing at the supposed inside jokes they had. You guys went briefly over the infamous dumpling incident, which, at this point, had its own lore.

The boys felt approachable for once, although you knew for quite some time that they would be. You were similar in age with them after all, the same age as Namjoon give or take a few months. It felt like you were talking as friends rather than an actual interview that you were being paid to do.

Nonetheless, the interview was a success, and you were packing your things up to go home.

That was, until Namjoon approached you.

“Hey,” he began, startling you. Your eyes widened at him coming up, being his normal self.

“Hey,” you managed to say back, trying not to freak out. Is he about to do what I think he’s about to do? “What’s up?”

“Uh…” Namjoon put his hands in his pockets, smiling sheepishly. “I was wondering if you wanna get dinner with Jungkook and I. He told me he really liked your energy today, and was wondering if we could talk more over some food.”

Holy shit. Is this real?

“Uh….” was all your stupid self could say, gawking at him as if he said something completely unintelligible. “Um…”

Say yes, you asshole.

“It’s fine if you have to like, uh, edit and shit,” he continued, his eyes averting away from you, his voice trailing off.

Fuck, dude. Say something back. Say YES.

“Um…”

Then, you saw Jungkook at a distance, overwatching the whole conversation. His lips were pursed into a pout, his neck extending toward the direction of you two, perhaps trying to hear what was going on. There was no way you could be making this up. Jungkook seemed… interested in wanting to spend more time with you.

Romantic? Unsure. But definitely interested.

This wasn’t the first time a celebrity has asked you to dinner (in fact, you were a looker yourself, whether you liked it or not), but with BTS? They were more definitely out of your league. However, you felt like you had been friendly at this point, so why not?

“Yeah, why not?”

Dinner was a blast. In fact, it was the most fun you ever had.

While you and Namjoon exchanged even more funnier quips, teases and passionate arguments about life, you and Jungkook sat next to each other, just feeling rather comfortable. It wasn’t to say that you two were feeling each other up, but Jungkook, an avid fan of Namjoon’s, was taking your side the entire time, initiating contact here and there to definitely show more than just platonic interest. You were taken aback at first, recoiling your hand when he “accidentally” brushed his hands against yours, but after a while, you leaned into him, showing your desire to get closer too.

Jungkook wasn’t as shy as you thought he was, and by the time dinner was over, he was playing footsies with you, his shoulder leaning against your own but disguised as him getting a bit too drunk for everyone’s liking (well, Namjoon’s anyways). Namjoon showed signs of feeling like the major third wheel, but he was, after all, the wingman in all of this, awkwardly smiling his infamous smile when he felt out of place.

“Ah, you guys look really comfortable, huh?” Namjoon pointed the obvious out in his native tongue as you laughed. Jungkook leaned into you as you cupped his face with the biggest grin ever seen.

“He’s adorable,” you replied back. “Cuter off-camera, if you ask me.”

“Gag,” Namjoon teased. “You guys need a room?”

You were staring into Jungkook’s doe eyes at this point, the chocolate pools of wonder. He was deeply in love, or at least, enamored by your presence. It turned out he was feeling you as well throughout the interview, and something in the air felt right to him. Not per se, bells ringing in his ear (he was past the romanticism), but he wanted more. So much more than what you two could do in front of Namjoon.

“Can we use yours, hyung?”

It didn’t take long before you two fucked after Namjoon and the two of you parted ways. In fact, both of you leaped onto each other madly the moment the door closed behind you. Of course, it was met with the typical NDA the morning after, something that you were quite used to at this point. It was a given that your night with him would be done in secrecy and with a contract to never speak of it, but to be honest, you weren’t planning to do that anyways. Jungkook was yours, even if it was for a split second.

“You’re incredibly beautiful, you know,” Jungkook breathlessly said after some time had passed, your bodies entangled with each other under the pillowy white sheets. “I never felt like I could just connect with someone I just barely knew.”

You grinned back, kissing his lips and the rest of his face.

“Call it karmic,” you replied back.

Jungkook, not knowing what the word was, leaned back in confusion.

“Kar…mic?”

“Uh…” you struggled to find the Korean word equivalent, trying to run through your shoddy vocabulary. “Um…it’s like…fate…?”

You weren’t sure what the word was, although it seemed to be received well with Jungkook. His pupils grew dilated as his mouth relaxed into a comfortable smile. He closed his eyes, leaning against you.

“Ah…fate, right?”

You blushed wildly.

“Yeah…fate.”

For the next week, you two met up every night in between your guys’ respective craziest schedules. Thankfully, it was easy because you were able to attend their next show (at the request from the artist, of course). While the others were in the press box though, you were in the family and friends’ box in which Jungkook may or may not have secretly passed by to steal a kiss or a hug. The two of you had agreed that this would be a short thing, nothing too serious. After all, the language barrier was a bit rough, and you two were working professionals.

However, you couldn’t help but to feel more of a connection besides a little fling because well, both of you were totally into each other. He eventually gave his personal cell (or at least, the U.S. one he used in the States) to text, something that Jungkook admitted he didn’t do often. Adoringly, he had his read receipts on, and it looked like he always checked to see what you wrote, even if it took a good hour or two to respond.

“I’m getting better at it, okay? Heh,” he would write, sending butterflies in your stomach. He was making an effort, although you can never be sure if he was like this with other people. Not that it mattered, you knew what it was, and you weren’t going to be caught up in it.

As the days went on, you and Jungkook started sharing intimate details about each other, something that you only had when it was a real relationship. This confused you, but maybe it was because you used to be the only one who did it as a part of the neurodivergence part of your personality. You found out more about his flings, how much he craved for more than just fucking around.

“I don’t know,” he said one night as you brushed your fingers through his hair, his face buried deep into your chest. “I feel like…you know, I want something more with all of these people. Like…I’m wasting my time whenever I do these things, but…I can’t help it. How can I find someone when I’m Jungkook of BTS?”

It was a lot to take in, but you took it on like a champ. There were thoughts that you wondered what Jungkook would think about, and it felt unreal that he could say all of these things to you in the comfort of his hotel room, away from all the lights and the glitz and the glamour. In this moment, in this scene in your guys’ story together, he was yours.

“Do you want more?” you asked quietly. You weren’t sure as to what you were saying, but it felt right to ask.

He shifted his head and moved it up to see yours, closing the gap between you two.

“Always. I always want to be loved unconditionally.”

It was getting complicated, fast.

You weren’t sure how to end it. In fact, time was ending it for you. It was Jungkook’s last day in the States, and it seemed like Jungkook suggested you go on tour with him for the next stop, Central America. While you weren’t entirely opposed to it, you knew where this was going. Last time, a celebrity had suggested that you to do a documentary film on them, and while you were flattered, it was just another way to keep you around at their convenience.

It wasn’t to say that Jungkook was being selfish. Rather, it was the circumstances that made him think this way. With how restrictive the industry was, and how incredibly famous Jungkook was as well, it was hard for him to see people besides those closest to him, which at this point, had began to warn you during your time in the family and friends’ box at the shows about Jungkook’s quick attachment to people.

“I know he always says he doesn’t get attached, but he really does,” an ex-fling told you in confidence in between VCRs. “He told me he was going to keep it professional, but the guy lies.”

You were dreading it. Although you felt great that you slept with your favorite, it wasn’t your intention to get anything more out of it because well, what is there left? You signed an NDA, the company regularly asked if you two used a condom…it was getting invasive, weird, and it was starting to turn you off.

And so, the last night came through and you two met up again. This time, you knew it was the last time, and to Jungkook, maybe the start of something new.

As you began to pack up your things, Jungkook laid on the bed sprawled out underneath the sheets.

“So…Mexico…” he began. You sighed, knowing it was coming.

“No, Jungkook,” you replied, turning toward him. “As much as I liked this, I can’t travel with you.”

“I’m not asking for you to travel with me,” he rebutted, sitting up and grabbing his shirt to put it back on in one hand. “I’m just saying, come with me to the next show! It would be great coverage for the magazine.”

“Jungkook-ah, that’s not how it works,” you doubled down, zipping up your weekend bag before putting your jacket on. “I have to get approval from my editor. Plus, people are starting to talk, and frankly, I started getting texts from your fans about us.”

There it was, what you had been hiding. Honestly, you were used to it from the last celebrity you hooked up with, but this time, his fans, or his stalkers to be exact, knew everything about you, threatening to ruin your life if you didn’t stop fucking him. It was getting emotionally taxing, but you wanted to hide that from him. After all, you were confident that wasn’t his first time hearing this.

“They’re not my fans and you know this,” he argued, now getting up and putting on his Adidas track pants. “The real ones will know it’s a little fling.”

“Do they though? Do you though?”

There it was, the hard truth.

Silence enveloped between you two, and Jungkook stood there in the dark with his hands in his pockets. He was staring at you, his eyes clearly pleading for you to not leave.

“Don’t leave,” Jungkook’s words came after. “I know this seems a lot, but I really like you. We can make it work.”

Make it work…as if that could ever be a thing.

You walked toward Jungkook with your weekender bag slung over your shoulders. Slipping your shoes on as well, you came closer to him, his breath hitched as you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you began. “We can’t keep doing this. This is our last night together.”

He exhaled sharply, his eyes closing slowly.

“I know.”

It didn’t take long before you two blocked each other on everything, pretending that you two didn’t exist to each other. It took a few more weeks before the fans stopped bothering you, probably focusing on the next fling Jungkook had.

And so there it was, you had a fling with one of the biggest stars in the world.

If only you knew what would happen next.

END.

#jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #writing #mine #this jungkook has been haunting my dreams for ever tbh bc you know. i'm in media and i can't imagine being in this position kdlahglshg #he totally would be so in luv but knows it can't go any further than that you know #but yeah i figured i can make a bit of a wong kar wai universe thing for decision to leave jungkook to flesh him out better #and someone did request to make stories in the pov of the reader so here u go!#yes i left it like that on purpose haha #dtl

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