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robininthelabyrinth · 9 months

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The Other Mountain - ao3 - Chapter 14

Pairing: Lan Qiren/Wen Ruohan

Warning Tags on Ao3

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“Do you think something unfortunate happened between Cangse Sanren and Jiang Fengmian?” Lan Qiren asked Wen Ruohan, who just stared blankly at him. “Do not think that I am complaining, given how much it accrues to my benefit. It is only that I really cannot imagine doing a thing that would cause that much internal strife to a person I consider to be my friend.”

Despite his reluctance to ever let his two nephews out of his sight again now that he’d seen them again, Lan Qiren had quickly approved Wen Ruohan’s proposed plan to have Cangse Sanren smuggle Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji out of the Lotus Pier, taking advantage of the fact that as a rogue cultivator she could leave early and with relatively little suspicion.

He knew, just as Wen Ruohan knew, that the two of them would be the prime suspects in the disappearance when it was inevitably discovered and reported – it was inevitable, given Lan Qiren’s role in his nephews’ lives up until this point, and the rumors of discord between him and his brother. No matter what they did, it would be impossible to conceal Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji well enough to keep them from being found and returned to their father and sect. And, once returned…

Well, Lan Qiren’s brother had been clear enough about what would happen to them, and that had been before Xichen and Wangji had flagrantly violated Lan sect custom (although not the rules, strictly speaking) in a manner that displayed their preference for Lan Qiren over their father.

(Lan Qiren wished that he could trust his brother to be fair and impartial in imposing punishment, limiting himself only to the rules the boys had actually broken – but his trust in his brother had disappeared long before his love for him had gone. Even in his youth when his brother had only disliked him, Lan Qiren had found his brother to be rather petty on the subject of punishment.)

Lan Qiren thought that Wen Ruohan had been surprised by how swiftly he had agreed with the plan, which he’d done more or less immediately after he’d finished wiping the tears from his nephews’ eyes. Neither Xichen nor Wangji had wanted to leave him, with Wangji being especially distraught, but Lan Qiren had explained the issue to them to the best of his abilities, sticking as much as possible to his desire to see them again rather than expressly stating or even implying any insult to their father. He’d then set rules for their upcoming trip, cautioning and scolding them in exactly the way he would if the trip were merely to go down to Caiyi with their cousins to buy sweets, and he’d seen with satisfaction the way they had both relaxed as soon as the sense of familiarity settled in. He hoped it would help, particularly with Wangji, who was so very clearly suffering greatly from all the changes and the lack of the set schedule Lan Qiren had so painstakingly helped him put together…

No, Lan Qiren couldn’t think of that. Not that, nor of how nervous and burdened Xichen looked, weighed down by responsibility years before it should have fallen upon him. It would only cause himself pointless distress, when he should instead spend his time thinking of the future and what he could do to abate their distress going forward.

(“I thought you’d object,” Wen Ruohan remarked to him in an undertone while Cangse Sanren had been very colorfully introducing herself to the boys, both of whom seemed somewhat doubtful and possibly mildly disapproving in a way that suggested they were in the process of being thoroughly charmed. Cangse Sanren had a very particular way about her of doing that. “Or at least that you would need some convincing that it wasn’t necessary to send them back to the Cloud Recesses where they belong, rather than let them come into my grasp.”

“I told you before that I intended to use you,” Lan Qiren replied, cognizant of but not entirely understanding the flash of delight on Wen Ruohan’s face at his words. “They will return to the Cloud Recesses only once their well-being has been secured to my satisfaction, which I expect will require, at minimum, negotiations with my sect elders. Until that time they must be in a safe place that can resist the disapproval of even the entire cultivation world. Other than your Nightless City, I can think of nowhere else that would do, short of barricading myself in some unpleasant locale naturally inclined towards defense. You will simply have to suffer their presence until then.”

“After hearing the way you used your sect rules to justify keeping them, I doubt I will be suffering,” Wen Ruohan said, voice droll. “Your Xichen in particular has picked up your fondness for loopholes.”

“They are not loopholes. The rules are complex and require tailoring to the present circumstances – ”

“They can keep company with my Chao-er,” Wen Ruohan interrupted. He’d been smirking. “Perhaps they can improve him.”)

In short, Lan Qiren had been quite satisfied with Wen Ruohan’s proposed plan. What he hadn’t expected was that Cangse Sanren would take the initiative to add her own twist, which she did by walking straight up to Jiang Fengmian and asking for permission to take his children on a trip through the cultivation world. She’d claimed that the idea had come upon her abruptly and that she hoped that it would build better ties between their families – to allow her Wei Ying and his Jiang Cheng to grow naturally into friends, the way Jiang Fengmian had with her husband Wei Changze, who had not attended the conference.

That absence seemed slightly odd to Lan Qiren, given that Wei Changze had been the one who’d grown up in the Lotus Pier to start with, but he hadn’t had time to question Cangse Sanren on the subject – assuming he even could, given that in truth they were not particularly well-acquainted. One summer’s worth of something combative that could barely be termed friendship, if one squinted, and a few casual greetings in passing since then, an unreturned letter or two…

Lan Qiren’s life had not left him much room for friends, which he now regretted. There were so many times he had let a relationship that seemed ready to grow wither away instead – Lan Yueheng, Cangse Sanren, Lao Nie… He would have to do better in the future. Perhaps this escapade would allow him to regain something of the acquaintance he had once shared with Cangse Sanren, and then he would be able to ask her questions directly, rather than needing to inquire with Wen Ruohan.

At any rate, Cangse Sanren had made the request, and, perhaps unsurprisingly, Jiang Fengmian had agreed. Cangse Sanren had then very enthusiastically and very quickly wrangled up both Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng, commandeered a carriage, and driven away from the Lotus Pier without so much as a backwards glance – or any indication that the carriage contained two sets of children, one sitting on the seats and the other hidden in the interior compartments, wrapped in sheets and pretending to be pillows. Her statement to the door guards, that she was traveling with some children entrusted to her, would have made any Lan sect politician proud, being both completely truthful and absolutely unhelpful.

It was only after they’d all already left that it had come out that Jiang Fengmian had agreed to Cangse Sanren’s proposal without consulting or even telling his fearsome wife…and she was not happy about it.

Politeness dictated that, as guests of the Lotus Pier, everyone attending the discussion conference should respect their hosts’ privacy. And they were, even if that meant pretending not to hear the shouting and crashing of items being thrown – but their hosts were certainly not making it easy.

Surely at some point they’d think to put up a privacy screen of some sort…

“I do think that she did it deliberately,” Lan Qiren continued, thinking aloud. “Not just in terms of what she asked to do, but in then leaving without confirming the request with Yu Ziyuan, though she must have known that it would cause Jiang Fengmian no end of trouble. I even understand the logic – the fight between the two of them, which they seem to incorrectly think we cannot hear or perceive, has captivated the attention of the cultivation world. The information about my nephews’ disappearance has thus been held back a little longer. But it seems…not cruel, precisely. But certainly it seems rather cutthroat a move to pull on someone close to you. Wouldn’t you agree?”

When Wen Ruohan didn’t respond, Lan Qiren shrugged.

“I thought you might have some insight,” he explained. “You and Lao Nie – you have something similar, do you not? You are lovers, but I noticed that you are also often at each other’s throats, and not in a way that could be explained through mutually consensual sadism. In fact, that is another thing I would like to understand. Is there some new cause for that? I had not seen you two interact for a while, but I recall that you did not behave like that with each other before – ”

“Could we not discuss this right now?” Wen Ruohan interrupted. His voice sounded strained. “Perhaps – later…?”

“Ah, of course, of course,” Lan Qiren said, nodding in apology, though his remorse was not as genuine as it probably should be. He had been doing it on purpose. “This is supposed to be for you, after all. I should focus my attention more thoroughly. Would you like to finish again?”

“No,” Wen Ruohan said fervently. “Four in one night is enough, thank you.”

“I think you can manage once more,” Lan Qiren said encouragingly, making Wen Ruohan whine and dig his nails into Lan Qiren’s sides in an encouraging way that was far from consistent with his words of denial. “You were the one who wanted me to…hmm, what was the phrase you used – ”

“Your sect has to have some sort of rule against this,” Wen Ruohan complained insincerely. “When I said I wanted you to fuck me into next week, this is not what I meant.”

He would probably try to take Lan Qiren’s head off if he actually tried to stop.

“Do not tell lies,” Lan Qiren reminded him virtuously, then added, perhaps a little maliciously: “But you are correct, there is an applicable rule, I suppose. How does Sect Leader Wen feel about Do not bully the weak…?”

Predictably, Wen Ruohan growled at the suggestion that he was weak, and yet again at Lan Qiren’s suggestion that he really could just stop what he was doing if it was getting to be too much for him. Lan Qiren did put a pause on the conversation after that, at least – he knew that Wen Ruohan enjoyed listening to him talk, which was probably the first time anyone had ever paid him that particular compliment, but also that after a certain amount of exertion and pleasure he found it increasingly difficult to keep up with the strategic analysis that he most liked hearing. It would be discourteous to abuse that knowledge.

Well, more than he already was, anyway.

Lan Qiren hadn’t been lying about wanting to do something for Wen Ruohan. He was grateful, overwhelmingly grateful, grateful enough that it was almost frightening. Wen Ruohan might not have arranged his nephews’ departure from the Cloud Recesses, they had done that themselves – and the mere thought of it was enough to make Lan Qiren’s heart freeze in his chest in terror – but he had found them, and he had swiftly taken action to help Lan Qiren keep them. Even if he was acting in part due to his own motives, which Lan Qiren never doubted, he had still done it, and in so doing, had saved his nephews from whatever foul plan their father had in mind for them.

The rules said Have affection and gratitude, and Lan Qiren would do his best.

“Fuck,” Wen Ruohan said when Lan Qiren coaxed him to finish yet again, his entire body gone utterly limp and relaxed. “Fuck, that was – good. Painfully good. How are you not done yet?”

“I am using my spiritual energy to improve my stamina,” Lan Qiren said. He’d thought it was pretty obvious, but Wen Ruohan gave him a look that suggested he thought Lan Qiren was the insane one of the pair of them.

“That phrasing suggests that in previous incidents you didn’t – ”

Lan Qiren hadn’t thought it was necessary before.

“– and also, stamina is only stamina, even when backed with spiritual energy. You still need willpower to direct your actions without being distracted or overwhelmed by pleasure.”

“Willpower is something I am not short of,” Lan Qiren said dryly, enjoying the way the words made Wen Ruohan’s throat work as he swallowed, shifting uncomfortably in a way that suggested that the mind was still willing even if the body was no longer able. “As for the question I believe actually you meant to ask – namely why I haven’t finished yet – I thought you might enjoy it if I kept going after you passed out. If I were to use you for my own purposes and my own pleasure at a time when you were no longer able to resist.”

“…fuck,” Wen Ruohan said, and shut his eyes. “Yes, do that.”

Lan Qiren obliged him.

When he was done, he got up to engage in the necessary clean-up, which included applying healing salve to the myriad of little injuries Wen Ruohan invariably left on him. The other man was unquestionably a sadist, with strong fondness for physical pain – he liked the scratches and bruises he left littered on Lan Qiren’s body, liked inflicting them and liked seeing them later so that he could smirk in reminiscence of having caused them. Mindful of that, and of his gratitude, Lan Qiren purposefully did not seek to fully heal the marks Wen Ruohan had left on his neck, each one purposefully high so that the edges would show even if he wore his most concealing high-collared robes, while being just barely low enough that Wen Ruohan could claim that he’d done it unintentionally.

Normally, it would annoy Lan Qiren, but – well, he was grateful. Let Wen Ruohan have his fun.

The next morning, he rose at his usual time and instructed the servants at the door not to wake Wen Ruohan until he rose naturally. The whole cultivation world had tacitly agreed to jointly pretend that the original postponement of the usual morning meeting to lunchtime had always been meant as a postponement until lunchtime the next day, so as to avoid embarrassing their hosts more than they were already embarrassing themselves and also to provide the Jiang sect disciple scrambling to fix things with a little more breathing room. That meant there was no point in making Wen Ruohan drag himself out of bed early for socialization he already had little to no interest in.

Instead, when his morning routine was done, Lan Qiren dressed himself in the most atrocious of the robes Wen Ruohan had had prepared for him – the ones streaked with bright red suns, similar to the ones the main Wen clan wore, and completed with an embroidered belt in which the subdued black-on-black pattern of clouds was eclipsed by the gold and ruby of the sun used as the clasp in what must be the most unsubtle of metaphors – and went out himself. In truth, he hated the social aspects of the discussion conferences just as much, if not more, than Wen Ruohan did, since Wen Ruohan only disliked making time for those he perceived to be his social inferiors or his competition, while Lan Qiren could have done very well without seeing any of them at all.

But as all sect leaders eventually learned, dislike of an act could not mean disregarding it.

Lan Qiren might not like socializing, no, but he could do it, and he could do it well. He had ten years of knowledge at his fingertips, enabling him to personalize his interactions with each sect leader he met – he knew which ones had recently had children and which ones had married, which ones had had recent success in night-hunts and which ones had had embarrassing failures, knew when to offer congratulations and when not to. He knew to always compliment Sect Leader Huang on his wife and ask Sect Leader Ouyang about his only son, knew to avoid mentioning Tingshan He to Huaitang Wu while always doing so the other way around, knew that a casual reference to the fierce ladies of Chenwei Zhao would make the sect leader of Songdian Zhao panic and yield under almost any circumstances…

Do not embarrass your wife in public, he had written to himself, setting it as a rule and thinking of Jiang Fengmian, and he’d been right, hadn’t he? Support your wife’s family, for they are now your own.

And Lan Qiren…Lan Qiren was grateful.

So he ignored his dislike and even his dignity, and made the informal rounds of visits to the other cultivation sects, greeting who he should greet and snubbing no one he shouldn’t snub. He let them look at him in his Wen sect clothing, Wen Ruohan’s blatant symbol of possession, and equally he let them smirk at the marks on his neck, revealed by the low collar of the robes he’d picked out. He was polite and…well, not charming, he didn’t think he could manage charming, toneless and tactless as he was.

But he could certainly manage to be compelling, implying without saying that Wen Ruohan had made significant plans and that he was aware of them while refusing to share any details. For some sect leaders he put on a concerned look, suggesting that he disapproved of what he had heard but was helpless to do anything about it, while for others he permitted himself an expression of mild satisfaction, as though he had succeeded in convincing Wen Ruohan to do something out of his usual line. In each case, he left the sect leader he spoke with something to think about, something that they would turn over and over again in their minds until they could think of nothing else, until they wanted nothing more than to meet up in groups to speculate with each other about the Wen sect’s next move.

Anyone else seeking to accomplish something at this discussion conference would be hard-pressed to get in a word. Even the return of his brother, which would have otherwise been the main subject of the day, was cast aside as old news, unable to make a dent in the furor.

Because Lan Qiren was grateful, but also because he was spiteful, too.

“I like the outfit,” Lao Nie said to him, eyes curved with glee, when Lan Qiren visited the portion of the main dining hall typically (if informally) set aside for the Great Sect leaders. Lan Qiren’s brother was standing by his side, stonily mute once more. “Very…colorful.”

He was making a comment on the mauled state of Lan Qiren’s neck, Lan Qiren surmised. He had heard similar comments all morning, some far less subtle than others.

“Thank you,” he replied politely. “All credit goes to my wife.”

If he put a mild stress on the word wife, or allowed his voice to be louder than usual so that it would carry, causing the rest of the room to burst out in whispered speculation at the fact that Lan Qiren had said it not once but twice, then it was only a matter of good politics. Everyone would wonder at Wen Ruohan’s intentions, worry about the possible results of his schemes. Their minds and mouths would be filled with nothing but him – just as Wen Ruohan had wanted.

Be your wife’s partner, after all.

And if those very same acts of good politics also happened to make Lan Qiren’s brother’s eyes fill with anger at the reminder that Lan Qiren had taken the insult he’d intended to degrade him and turned it into a source of power instead…well. Lan Qiren had promised himself that he would make his brother live in regret, and he intended to do it.

There would be consequences to his current display, Lan Qiren knew. His brother was quite capable of disregarding their sect’s rule against bearing grudges, and he was both powerful and clever in his own right, however out of practice he might be at the moment. He had been raised by their father to play the political game in ways Lan Qiren had never been, and he had been good at it, those few years he had managed the sect before he had gone into seclusion. He would be thoughtful, and he would be vengeful, and Lan Qiren had relatively little power to resist any retaliation his brother might wish to take in revenge for this slight. Lan Qiren knew too well, as most of the other sect leaders did not, that his relationship with Wen Ruohan was a delicate one, born of cooperation held together solely by mutual interest; he wasn’t anywhere near as favored or as influential as he was pretending to be, and his brother would eventually learn that, even if he didn’t know it yet. There would be consequences.

But now that Lan Qiren knew that those consequences would not fall on his nephews, he didn’t care.

Do not be haughty and complacent, the rules said. He was knowingly breaking that rule, and to knowingly break a rule was worse than an accidental violation – he would require a more severe punishment to correct his future behavior. Possibly even to the point of needing physical discipline, rather than merely reviewing the basis of the rule or copying it out.

(Perhaps Wen Ruohan would enjoy administering it? That seemed likely. And Lan Qiren was grateful…)

“Oh, that reminds me,” Lao Nie said with a smirk that suggested mischief. “Your secret marriage meant that I didn’t get a chance to send a wedding present. Naturally I will have to make up for that. Do you have anything in mind? Or should I just dig through my treasury?”

Lan Qiren grimaced at the thought of yet more priceless items ending up unused in Wen Ruohan’s treasure rooms, swords left to rust and instruments gone out of tune.

“I suspect my new household already has everything that it needs,” he said, then added, dryly, “Though I understand that my wife has always appreciated having a little more land.”

Lao Nie cackled. “Not a chance, my friend. Not a chance.”

“In that case, we will be satisfied with no gifts at all, and your presence at dinner some time.” Lan Qiren glanced sidelong at his brother and added, a little colder and much less sincere, “Naturally, Xiongzhang should also come to visit us when it suits him best.”

His brother smiled thinly. “I would be more than delighted to visit, of course, when you have a chance to settle down. I know how…busy…you’ve been, in the service of your new family.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure what his brother meant to imply by that, but it made the smile on Lao Nie’s face fade away into a mild frown, which meant it was probably some sort of subtle insult.

“Half the people I spoke to this morning said that you’d already been to visit them,” his brother continued in seeming explanation, and Lao Nie’s expression cleared up, though Lan Qiren was sure that his brother had actually meant whatever insult he’d initially implied. “Don’t let yourself get worked over too hard, Qiren.”

There was another insult there, which again Lan Qiren couldn’t figure out, but he was more interested in the fact that his brother had also been making the informal rounds of socialization. He didn’t know his brother well enough anymore to be able to determine if he’d done it because he’d had a specific goal, or merely as a means of reintroducing himself to the cultivation world, or else simply because he enjoyed socializing more than Lan Qiren ever had. If his brother had been anyone else, and Lan Qiren still in his position as sect leader, he would have made a point of trying to find out – and he still could, he supposed, though he would have to do it through Wen Ruohan’s means rather than his own. Still, it would mean losing face, having to ask someone else a question about his own brother…

“Sect Leader!” someone called, and multiple heads turned, but it was a Lan sect disciple who was calling. An older one, one of the ones that had never liked Lan Qiren, and he looked worried, rushing forward at an unusual speed to whisper into Lan Qiren’s brother’s ear.

Ah. It is time, then.

Lan Qiren inclined his head to Lao Nie and started making his way away from them. It would be better to appear that he had no idea what was being said before the news came out, if only because his brother would eventually find a way to confront him, presumably in private –

“Qiren, stop.”

His brother’s voice cracked like a whip, drawing attention from the room at large. Lan Qiren pressed his lips together in irritation, wondering if his brother had no care for their sect’s face. Was he really going to confront him here and now, in front of everyone?

Nevertheless, he turned back. “Yes, Xiongzhang?”

“My sons have gone missing from the Cloud Recesses,” his brother said, watching him with a cold expression, and Lan Qiren pressed his lips together further: it seemed that his brother did, in fact, intend to do this here and now. “Do you know where they might be?”

On the road to Xixiang, Lan Qiren thought to himself. Cangse Sanren had mentioned hearing rumors of something there that might be worth night-hunting, a matter of some urgency – it was one of those no-man’s-land regions that lacked a local cultivation sect and therefore relied on the kindness of rogue cultivators like her and her husband. Critically, it was not too far from the Lan sect’s outer borders, meaning that Cangse Sanren would have a plausible (though not especially believable) place where she could have run into Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji that didn’t involve stealing them away from their rightful home, and from there she would make her way towards the Nightless City.

“I do not know where they are right now,” he said, careful to be precise: he didn’t know where on the road they might be, whether they’d gone fast enough to be past the nearest town by now or if they had taken a longer, more circuitous route. With Cangse Sanren involved, it could be anything. For all he knew, she could have decided to go backwards. “Do you mean to say you do not know? Is there any risk that they have been kidnapped?”

Lan Qiren rarely had reason to be thankful for his natural lack of affect, which made others perceive him as being dull and uninteresting, but it was helpful now – he was a poor actor, but no one would question his relative calm or use it as a reason to doubt his sincerity. His brother would suspect him even more, knowing as he did of Lan Qiren’s meltdowns, his fears, his recent emotional instability, but he couldn’t mention any of those, not without explaining why he might think such a reaction was likely. That wouldn’t leave either of them with any face, and his brother cared deeply for his face, even if he sometimes seemed to forget that his sect also had face that he should concern himself with.

That left him helpless – unless he could force Lan Qiren to admit to something.

“Do not tell lies,” his brother said.

“I am not lying,” Lan Qiren said, forcing himself to look at his brother directly, or at least as close as he could tolerate. “Xiongzhang, you know that I would never risk letting my nephews come to harm.”

Even if the harm comes from you.

His brother’s eyes narrowed. He understood the implied message – that Lan Qiren did know where the boys were. More: that his strongest leverage against Lan Qiren had disappeared along with them.

“Qiren – ”

“I think that is enough,” Wen Ruohan said, his powerful voice carrying through the room. Lan Qiren glanced over to look at him: he was standing at the door, with his hands clasped behind his back and that cruel smile he used in public. He’d timed his entrance well, with the late morning sun glittering off the water to frame him and his incredibly strong cultivation was rolling off of him in waves, a display and reminder that he was so much more powerful than the rest of them. “He has already said he didn’t know, and we all know Lan Qiren doesn’t lie. I will not permit one of my people to be baselessly questioned any further.”

He strolled forward, ignoring the way they all gawked at him.

“I assume you will nevertheless want to check my Wen sect’s rooms…?” he said mildly, stopping only when he was standing by Lan Qiren’s side. “You are welcome to do so. You will find no lost children there, but by all means, go ahead and waste your time.”

“I thank Sect Leader Wen for his courtesy,” Lan Qiren’s brother said smoothly, jerking his head in the briefest of inclines before sweeping out the door.

Lao Nie glanced at the two of them with a brief frown of his own, but then opted to head out as well, undoubtedly off to offer his assistance with the search. That was the Nie sect: always willing to fight evil no matter where it might be.

Once they were gone, the room quickly lit up in gossip, everyone immediately seeking out someone else with whom they could discuss this newest twist. And to think that when they’d arrived, they probably thought that they would spend the entire conference talking about the return of Lan Qiren’s brother…

“I heard that you had a busy morning,” Wen Ruohan murmured in Lan Qiren’s ear. When Lan Qiren looked at him, his eyes were shining with barely restrained excitement. “You look – ravishing.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes. “I’m sure. Tell me, is it the outfit that stakes your claim or the chaos I caused in your name that does it for you?”

“Can’t it be both? Surely I’ve demonstrated the genuine nature of my interest in you by now.”

Lan Qiren snorted. He was quite certain that Wen Ruohan would happily drag him into a convenient bedroom and demand service at this very moment if he thought they could get away with it.

“It was the least I could do,” he said instead. “Have affection and gratitude. You should make the rounds yourself, while you can – if things keep going the way they are, this entire conference will end up getting canceled.”

“Mm, a good point.” A smirk played around his lips. “Perhaps I’ll go check in on Sect Leader Chang to see how Yueyang Chang is settling in. It is their first discussion conference as a subordinate clan of the Wen sect.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes at the other man’s smugness. The plan had worked out just as Lan Qiren had proposed, much to Wen Ruohan’s evident delight, though if he kept tormenting Sect Leader Chang with how badly his scheme to defeat his neighbors had gone, the man was likely to work himself into an aneurysm. Which would make him much less useful to Wen Ruohan!

“What about you?” Wen Ruohan asked. “Do you have more people you want to see?”

“‘Want’ is not the word I would select in this context,” Lan Qiren said with a faint sigh. “And no, not quite. At any rate, it would be inappropriate for me to continue socializing while my nephews are missing, even if, as a member of another sect, it is equally inappropriate for me to assist in the search without permission. However, I am certain that if I remain here unattended any number of my peers will come to express their best wishes on my nephews’ swift return.”

“Your analysis is shrewd as ever, Lan Qiren, but for one thing: you have no peer.” Wen Ruohan’s icy smile briefly curled up into something a little more genuine. “Other than me, of course.”

Of course you would think that, self-absorbed narcissist that you are, Lan Qiren thought to himself, but perhaps a little more fondly than before. Self-absorbed or not, Wen Ruohan had helped him when he had needed it most, and not only once. Have affection and gratitude indeed…

The first few people who approached Lan Qiren only came to fish for gossip, but he repelled them easily enough. The next two after that actually had something interesting to say, though whether they meant to have said it Lan Qiren could not be sure. Potential allies or enemies, in any event, and he noted down their names to share with Wen Ruohan afterwards.

The one after that, though, had a different goal entirely.

“It’s just, you see, you did such a good job with A-Ling,” Sect Leader Xie said apologetically. He was the head of a small independent sect loosely allied with the Lan, but he’d only made a cursory attempt to comfort Lan Qiren over the disappearance of his nephews, focusing instead on his own concerns. “Everything about him has improved: his conduct, his temperament, even his martial skills and cultivation. A-Yi has been immensely jealous, and we’ve been promising him all year that he would get the chance to attend your classes once he was old enough…”

“I intend to resume my classes,” Lan Qiren reassured him. “They will need to be held in the Nightless City, as I now reside there, and as a result I expect to start later in the season than usual, but they will still be taking place.”

Indeed, Wen Ruohan was likely to insist on it.

“The Nightless City,” Sect Leader Xie repeated, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t mean to be rude, Teacher Lan, but…”

“Naturally anyone who comes to my classes will have my personal guarantee of safe passage, as well as the same guarantee from Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Qiren said firmly. He would insist on it, and he thought he was likely to get it – it wasn’t as though Wen Ruohan could run the classes without him. Anyway, Wen Ruohan saw the classes (however incorrectly) as planting seeds for the future, a long-term investment, so he was highly unlikely to risk that future by acting against any of Lan Qiren’s students in the present. “If anything ever happens that makes me doubt that guarantee, I will cancel rather than risk any student that is entrusted to me.”

“Oh, that’s good, that’s good. Very good! As always, Teacher Lan, you are the most reliable!”

Lan Qiren inclined his head and watched with no little bemusement as Sect Leader Xie bustled away back to his preferred clique, saying some words to them that made them all perk their heads up and look over at him like a gaggle of meerkats from some distant foreign land. He was aware, of course, that he had developed something of a reputation as a teacher, but it was rather gratifying to see other people so enthusiastic about the notion of sending him their children…

Lan Qiren shook his head and turned his attention back to politics.

Another five visitors later, his enthusiasm was starting to flag, as he would have expected. The process of politics was seemingly interminable, and the amount of time and effort it took to deal with people was simply exhausting. He was just thinking that he should find his way to a slightly more obscure corner –

“Murder!”

Lan Qiren startled, as did everyone around him, each of them falling silent and wondering if they’d misheard.

“Murder!” someone shouted. It was a panting, panicked disciple in nondescript colors that had clearly just run into the main hall, chest heaving and eyes wide as saucers. “Help, please! Someone’s been murdered!”

Lan Qiren started making his way forward at once, his fingers immediately itching for either his sword or his guqin, but found that he was making no headway. Everyone else was still staring at the disciple blankly, as if trying to understand how something like that could have happened here, amongst all of the cultivators, and when all of them were unarmed, too.

“I’m telling you, someone’s been murdered…!”

Lan Qiren gave up on subtlety and started forcing his way through the people in his way. It was rude, but it worked: the crowd parted before him as soon as they noticed him, the smaller sect leaders instinctively deferring to a Great Sect leader, even though he wasn’t one any longer.

“Who has been injured?” he said sharply to the panicked disciple, and when that didn’t work, added, “Show me. Where are they?”

The disciple led the way outside, where a number of people were already gathering, muttering to each other. There was the smell of blood in the air, mixing unpleasantly with the flowers and water, and when Lan Qiren finally made it through the crowd, he found that its source was a middle-aged man in a green robe, splayed out on his belly in a puddle of his own blood, half-in and half-out of one of the Lotus Pier’s many pavilions. Several people were already kneeling next to him, helping turn him over.

He looked – familiar.

“It’s Sect Leader Pei!” someone shouted, recognizing the man at exactly the same moment Lan Qiren did. “Wangdu Pei!”

Sect Leader Pei? Why is that name familiar – Oh no.

Oh no.

“But who would want to hurt him?” The whispers had already started. “He didn’t have any enemies. Wangdu Pei is a subsidiary sect of Lanling Jin. Who would dare?”

And then, inevitably, as Lan Qiren had already known they would –

“Didn’t Sect Leader Pei get into a dispute with Sect Leader Wen? He did, didn’t he? Yesterday, at the morning meeting, he called out the former Sect Leader Lan for where he was sitting. Sect Leader Wen was angry, you saw him, you saw his face. He wanted to hurt him…he wanted to kill him…”

Lan Qiren gritted his teeth and ignored the whispers, kneeling beside the body and pressing one hand to the man’s neck, the other to his nose, seeking breath. Abruptly, he flashed back to being in a similar position with He Kexin’s body, all her once-prodigious beauty rendered abruptly hollow, spelling the beginning of so much horrible change.

For a moment he found it hard to breathe.

And then he felt something under his fingertips, something that had been absent with He Kexin, and that brought him back to himself.

“He’s not dead,” Lan Qiren said. No one heard him, they were too busy gossiping. This was why his sect had set Talking behind others’ backs is prohibited as a rule.He raised his voice to his best schoolteacher’s bellow: “Listen to me!”

Everyone fell silent and looked at him.

“Sect Leader Pei is not dead,” Lan Qiren said firmly. “There is still a pulse, and breath. Someone go fetch a doctor at once.”

No one moved.

“Is he really not dead?” Someone unseen hissed. “Or is Teacher Lan just covering up for his lover…?”

Lan Qiren was about to retort that Wen Ruohan was his lawfully married wife, not a lover, when he was interrupted once more.

This time, though, it wasn’t a verbal interruption. Rather, a sudden sense of tremendous pressure suddenly came crashing down on him, on all of them, knocking half the sect leaders still standing down to their knees and making the rest stagger. It felt as though the weight of a mountain had abruptly settled down on their shoulders. The force of it curved their shoulders from the strain, crushing their chests and lungs, making it impossible to draw air –

“I would offer my own services,” Wen Ruohan said pleasantly from the doorway to the main hall, looking out at all of them in the reverse image of how he had entered the same hall not long before. “But for whatever reason I don’t think they would be properly appreciated, despite my sect’s fame in medicine.”

He had his fingers up in a gesture not unlike a pinch, with a small round fleck of black smaller than a grain of rice rotating rapidly in place like a spinning marble, held between his thumb and middle finger.

Lan Qiren had never seen anything like it before. What was that…?

Wen Ruohan pinched his fingers a little closer together, causing the immense pressure to momentarily tighten – Lan Qiren felt as though he were drowning – and then brought them together in a swift snap that shattered the sense of heaviness all at once, freeing them from the terrible weight.

Lan Qiren inhaled sharply, drawing in air to fill his screaming lungs once more, and he wasn’t the only one to do so. He still didn’t know what it was that Wen Ruohan had just done, but he was tremendously grateful that it was over…and also, retroactively, that none of them had actually managed to succeed in truly angering Wen Ruohan, that ancient monster of the cultivation world.

He turned his head to catch Wen Ruohan’s gaze and nodded at him in thanks, as that had been a very efficient – if perhaps excessive – way of getting everyone to stop gossiping. Wen Ruohan smirked in response, inclining his head and spreading his hands by his sides in a subtle silent bow as if he were a performer that had just finished pulling off a particularly magnificent stunt of sleight-of-hand.

Ridiculous man.

“There must be a doctor somewhere,” Lan Qiren said loudly, trying to focus on what was important. Human life takes precedence. “Yunmeng Jiang must have some on retainer. Has someone sent a disciple to summon them?”

Luckily, it turned out someone had, and a few moments later three of them arrived, each one holding their medical kits. With Lan Qiren and Wen Ruohan both glowering at everyone, a path was swiftly opened up for them, and soon enough they were crouched around Sect Leader Pei, wielding acupuncture needles and bitter-smelling poultices and bandages and the like.

Lan Qiren took the opportunity to retreat, heading back to Wen Ruohan’s side. He had to speak with him as soon as possible – and privately, if they could manage it.

Unfortunately, that would be difficult, given all the people around them, many of whom were still eyeing them both suspiciously. But it was necessary, and urgent. He had to tell Wen Ruohan what people had thought when they’d seen Sect Leader Pei lying there, what they had suspected, who they had suspected…

Only Lan Qiren wasn’t quite sure how to manage it.

Leaving the scene together would only be deemed even more suspicious, and at precisely a moment in which it was absolutely vital for them to avoid increasing the already tense atmosphere; it was impossible. But neither was there some easy way to simply draw Wen Ruohan aside for a quiet word. It wasn’t as though Lan Qiren could just walk up to him and whisper in his ear…

Ah, no, wait. They were married. There was no reason he couldn’t.

Lan Qiren matched action to thought at once, arriving at Wen Ruohan’s side and leaning his head in close as if he were trying to kiss him on the cheek. Wen Ruohan reacted at once, reaching out one hand to wrap around him and pull him in closer, as if into an embrace, his second hand reaching up to cup the back of Lan Qiren’s head and draw him in close the way a man might to comfort a shaken loved one, cooperating with the illusion almost as if he knew what Lan Qiren were trying to do.

“Someone is trying to frame you,” Lan Qiren hissed into his ear.

To his surprise, Wen Ruohan snorted.

“Do not laugh. This is serious, take it seriously. I am entirely in earnest.”

“You always are,” Wen Ruohan murmured back, voice low. “But to jump immediately to framing…you recall that you haven’t seen me all morning, do you not? Who’s to say I wasn’t the one who did it…?”

Lan Qiren pulled his head back and gave Wen Ruohan his best glare, though he kept his voice quiet. “I told you to be serious. Naturally you did not do it! Others may doubt it, more fool they, but I know that you are neither insane nor an idiot. Even if you did intend to kill him, why would you do it now, when it serves none of your interests and would only harm your sect’s reputation if it were known?”

“An excellent point,” Wen Ruohan said. He was smiling, his eyes curved with good humor rather than dead and cold. “You’re entirely correct, as usual. I did not kill him, and I am being framed.”

“I know that. I said that. That is how I started this conversation. The question is what to do about it – ”

“Sect Leader Wen.”

Lan Qiren turned, drawing away from Wen Ruohan as he did. It was Jiang Fengmian who had called, a look of solemn neutrality on his face. Behind him were Lan Qiren’s brother and Jin Guangshan, the latter tapping his fan against his palm, and a few steps behind them was Lao Nie, lingering by the pavilion with Sect Leader Pei with a frown on his face and his hand resting on the hilt of his famous saber Jiwei.

Four Great Sects, joined together to face down the Wen, which as always stood alone.

Well, not quite alone, Lan Qiren amended. He put his hands behind his back, grounding his stance and making it quite clear from his posture that he had no intention of going anywhere.

Jiang Fengmian drew to a halt in front of where Wen Ruohan and Lan Qiren were standing.

“Sect Leader Wen,” he repeated, and raised his hands to salute respectfully. “There have been certain questions raised that I request that you answer, if you are willing. If you would come with me…?”

There was a dangerous smile playing at Wen Ruohan’s lips, though for once Lan Qiren could not sense his usual rage at anything even remotely suggestive of a challenge to his authority – on the contrary, he seemed to be in an extraordinarily good mood. Lan Qiren had no idea why that might be, given that he was blatantly being schemed against.

Though perhaps that was it. Lao Nie had once remarked to Lan Qiren that Wen Ruohan did not seem to overly mind betrayals provided that they were conducted with sufficient style, evaluating them the way an aesthete would fine art. Lan Qiren had found the notion strangely sad, which Lao Nie had not understood and which he had never been able to explain, not even to himself.

“I would be more than happy to accompany my gracious host and provide whatever assistance I can,” Wen Ruohan said smoothly, causing a good three quarters of the room to exhale in relief at the realization that no wars would be starting today. “Lead the way, Sect Leader Jiang.”

Jiang Fengmian bowed a little and turned, with Jin Guangshan and Lan Qiren’s brother both stepping to the side to allow him to pass.

Lan Qiren glanced at them, wondering if he should go as well, but Wen Ruohan caught his eye and shook his head lightly in refusal. Lan Qiren inclined his head back and left him to follow Jiang Fengmian alone, although as they entered the pavilion Lao Nie turned and joined them – a little shameless of him, but then again he was notoriously shameless. Not to mention quixotic enough that no one would be able to guess whether he’d joined in order to be on Wen Ruohan’s side or against him.

Perhaps that was why Wen Ruohan hadn’t wanted Lan Qiren to come along. If he had, it would have given his brother the opportunity to do the same, and they knew that he wasn’t on their side.

Though, now that Lan Qiren thought about it, it was something of a surprise that Jin Guangshan hadn’t insisted on joining the interrogation himself. Wasn’t Wangdu Pei one of Lanling Jin’s subordinate sects…? Surely he would have a vested interest, and even if he didn’t care about his own subordinate sect, he certainly could have plausibly claimed to –

“I wouldn’t have expected such an unseemly display from you, Qiren.”

Lan Qiren stiffened when his brother came to stand next to him. “I am not sure I know what you mean.”

His brother hummed, though it was barely audible, the room having erupted into conversation once more, everyone rushing over to talk with their friends and allies and occasionally even enemies if they thought they might have something worth saying. Jin Guangshan in particular was standing at the center of a large circle of people, fielding questions with his usual slimy smile. Presumably that was a greater draw than the interrogation.

“Only that you have always seemed so detached from worldly pleasures. Who would think that once you were married, you would be shamelessly hanging all over another in public…” Lan Qiren stiffened in outrage, and his brother chuckled in a low voice. “Ah, but you are the expert on the rules! Naturally I don’t need to remind you. Though perhaps a refresher would be in order on Do not be promiscuous…”

“We are married,” Lan Qiren said through gritted teeth, instead of objecting the way he would like to the lurid mischaracterization of his actions, which were nowhere near to what his brother seemed to be implying. It was pointless, and would only make his brother laugh at him even more. “I am certain I do not need to remind you that it is a husband’s duty to ensure his wife is satisfied – ”

He choked at the sudden burst of pain in his abdomen, staggering back in surprise. He stared up at his brother in shock: had he just hit him?

His brother was looking down at him, unconcealed wrath twisting his features into something ugly. He stepped closer, lifting his hand once more…

There was a burst of laughter from the door, deep and compelling and distinctive, immediately identifiable to Lan Qiren despite how rarely he heard it. Everyone else seemed primarily confused, perhaps wondering who would be laughing at a time like this, and all together turned to stare at Wen Ruohan, who was leaning against the railing of the walkway next to the pavilion and laughing loudly with his head thrown back.

“No, no,” he said, lazily waving his hand at Jiang Fengmian. “Please go on! Tell me more! Yes, of course, when you put it that way, it couldn’t have been anyone but me, could it? Everyone knows that I am hot-headed and passionate, always the first one to act irrationally for the sake of…what was it again…”

“Love, I think,” Lao Nie drawled. He was visibly rolling his eyes.

“Oh, yes, of course. That.”

Lan Qiren would be amused by the sheer dripping disdain in Wen Ruohan’s voice – certainly it was doing an excellent job of getting the rest of the room to abruptly realize that they’d been too caught up in the moment to actually think about how unlikely it was that Wen Ruohan, of all people, would be sufficiently moved to action by an insult to Lan Qiren – but his brother had caught him by the wrist and was squeezing tightly enough that it felt as though his bones were grinding together.

“How very shameless you are, Qiren,” his brother hissed, and Lan Qiren had to bite his tongue to keep from making a sound of pain when he felt something give way in his arm. “Shameless and spoiled, with your so-inflexible righteousness scarcely hiding the rot of your hypocrisy. How many losses will your lover be willing to bear, do you think, before the cost of you begins to outweigh the benefit…?”

Lan Qiren stared at his brother, realizing what that must mean. “Do you mean you were the one who – ”

“I didn’t do it!” someone cried out, yet again drawing the attention of the gathered group to where the investigation was continuing. It was poor Sect Leader Xie, that little rabbit of a man that had promised his A-Yi the chance to attend Lan Qiren’s classes. “I mean – I know – I was there, yes, but I didn’t do it! I didn’t even see anything!”

“That’s a little implausible,” Lao Nie pointed out reasonably. He’d obviously stepped forward to be the lead investigator for the matter. “You’re saying a man was attacked only a few steps away from you and you missed it? Because you were, what, looking the wrong way?”

“But I was!”

Lan Qiren tore his arm away from his brother, mind working furiously to try to find a way out of the present crisis. His brother had all but admitted to him that he had been the one to orchestrate the framing, but no one else had been paying attention, and he was unlikely to be willing to admit it where anyone else could hear it.

His aim had undoubtedly been to create trouble for Wen Ruohan, and Lan Qiren could see how it would. Even if Wen Ruohan managed to deflect actual blame for the attack, as he was so ably doing, people would still associate the incident with him later, upon retelling, and the Wen sect was not yet so powerful that it could afford to ignore public opinion completely. It made sense, as a countermove: Lan Qiren had been flaunting Wen Ruohan’s power, so his brother attacked and diminished that power…

Worse – it would cost his brother nothing he deemed of value to cover up his own involvement.

Only a single small independent sect, not even a subsidiary, set up to be the perfect scapegoat.

And Wen Ruohan would take the bait and accept that conclusion, of course. Why wouldn’t he? Even if Lan Qiren could get to him in time to tell him who had actually committed the crime, having someone conveniently there to take the blame would minimize the harm that any rumors would do to the Wen sect’s standing or to Wen Ruohan’s own reputation. People would be more inclined to talk about who’d actually done the crime than who had been merely suspected of it, whereas if the culprit were not found, Wen Ruohan would remain the likeliest option. Forcing Sect Leader Xie to bear the blame instead, regardless of whether he was genuinely guilty or innocent, was the obvious next step – it made perfect logical sense, perfect political sense.

It was wrong, against all principles and morality, but since when did Wen Ruohan care about that?

“Lao Nie,” Wen Ruohan suddenly spoke, his powerful voice easily overriding Sect Leader Xie’s sobs. “Be careful. You are on the verge of insulting me.”

Lao Nie blinked, clearly taken aback by the unexpected interruption. “What? How’s that?”

“Sect Leader Jiang, our gracious host, has already said that he believed it was me at fault.” Wen Ruohan shrugged in a grandiose fashion and smirked. “And didn’t I already admit it? Turning around and accusing another like this…it’s almost as if you doubt my word.”

“Hanhan, you were being sarcastic.”

“Says who?” Wen Ruohan waved his hand. “You have as little evidence that it was him as you do that it was me. Anyway, Sect Leader Pei isn’t even dead. Just call it a friendly accident and let us move on – surely we have better things to do. We haven’t even had lunch.”

Lao Nie protested, but Jiang Fengmian was already nodding in agreement, clearly all too happy to wash his hands of the entire incident, and there were fervent murmurs of agreement already rippling through the crowd. It seemed that all of them had had enough excitement for the day.

Sect Leader Xie even stopped crying, seemingly realizing that he was being spared. He looked poleaxed, as if he didn’t understand exactly what was happening but nonetheless overwhelmingly grateful for the unexpected reprieve.

For his part, Lan Qiren stared at Wen Ruohan, wondering what in the world had gotten into him.

There was no benefit to Wen Ruohan in speaking up to spare Sect Leader Xie, nothing at all; it was pure loss for him, for both him personally and his sect more generally. A small loss, to be sure, but a loss nonetheless, and a loss that could be laid squarely at Lan Qiren’s feet – moreover, it was a loss Wen Ruohan could have reduced to almost nothing, effortlessly, and yet chose not to. Why…?

Wen Ruohan turned and caught Lan Qiren’s gaze from across the room. His cold smirk widened, very briefly, into a smile, and he winked, startling Lan Qiren and making him stare even more blatantly. And then, once he was sure he had Lan Qiren’s attention, Wen Ruohan once again inclined his head and very subtly spread his hands out beside him in the most minute of gestures – the same gesture he had made earlier, a silent bow, smug, like a performer having done a trick he thought the audience would like.

He’d done it…for Lan Qiren?

Not for his own benefit, not for any calculation, but rather just…just to please him.

Because he’d noticed Lan Qiren’s distress at the wrong person carrying the blame for something they did not do. Because even if Wen Ruohan didn’t care about what was good and what was right and certainly not about someone as irrelevant as Sect Leader Xie, Lan Qiren did.

And Wen Ruohan, it appeared, cared about that.

…oh, Lan Qiren thought, unsure of why his stomach suddenly felt beset by butterflies, a strange anxiety he hadn’t felt even when his brother had been threatening him – and then abruptly not unsure at all. Oh, no.

He knew exactly why he felt the way he did.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #sect leader nie #qingheng-jun #my fic #my fics #Megafic #:D #happy over 100k everyone

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alpacinosgf · 2 years

Text

Oz Cobblepot NSFW ABCs

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

look, the man lives to spoil and indulge others he's all about aftercare it helps reassure him that you were actually INTO him and wanted him enough to fuck him so he naturally wants to pay you back either by cleaning you up or just holding you. If its just a one off I think he'd be pretty quiet afterwards not really wanting to "ruin" the mood by talking about what's going to happen next but in terms of milk and roses he's actually comfortable in silence, he doesn't rely on that reassurance as much as he used to. But young oz? Total prick as soon as he's finished you're out of his bed and there might be a taxi waiting for you outside.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

As cliché as it might be, he does like his hands. He's done a multitude with them in his life and he actually owes his life to the strength of his hands. Back when he was younger he'd strike fear whenever he'd gut punch or knock someone out cold with one strategic hit to the head and now he wheels and deals the finest and the worst of Gotham City with handshakes that line his pockets with more cash than he could have ever dreamed of. Not only that, but he can make you cum in 60 seconds flat with his thick calloused fingers, the same ones that give him away every time he meets city officials for the first time - as much as he likes to dress the part he'll never shirk off the way his lifestyle has permanently scarred his body. As for a partner? Oz is an ass man through and through if he doesn't have his hand resting on your ass or lower back its always inching towards it when you're out and about with him. He's not strong enough to resist giving a pinch or a gentle smack as he walks by you to be honest

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Goes without saying he has a breeding kink, and in the milk and roses universe it's never really spoken about. The first night you weren't really thinking about it and now whenever you have sex he goes in raw not that either of you complain but you know it drives him crazy to see his cum slip out of you. Especially if you've had a quickie in his office or the expansive bathroom of the 44 and going back to whatever meeting he had excused himself from. Not paying a lick of attention whoever is begging him for extra time on repaying their drops debt he's thinking too much about how you're still dripping from across the room with the others

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Do not try tell me oz isn't the kind of guy to steal your underwear!!! I've already talked about this but he totally is that kind of guy to jerk off with it later and truthfully it turns him on more how gross it is of him to do it. He already loves degradation so he likes to imagine if he was caught too. He only started doing it after his accident and gaining weight. He totally lacked the confidence he once prided himself on, so why not take a parting gift? Once you know about it, you could tease him endlessly over it and threaten to let his secret out in the heat of the moment and it would only make him harder 👀

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Young oz had endless encounters when he got in this line of business, if someone put a gun to his head to ask how many he couldn't give an honest answer or even a ballpark estimate. He knows just about every trick in the book and is always up for learning exactly what makes you tick and scream and cry. He takes it as a personal challenge to get you to cum as hard and as fast as possible. And there's always room for improvement w oz and he loves it

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I think younger oz would be fine with just about any position, whereas older oz would prefer you riding him. It's less strain on him and gives you full control so what's not to love? It also means you can choke him easily while you grind down on him. You had done it sparingly when he's been on top but always a little afraid he could smother you. Not that you'd mind lmao. He definitely goes a little harder and rougher when you suggest doggy style tho cos he's definitely an ass man like I said and his brain nearly shuts down every time you're on your hands and knees for him with a pillow under your hips

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's definitely serious with a one off thing or even at the beginnings of seeing someone when he's in bed. The more he gets comfortable with you the more likely he'd be to be a little silly or jovial. It's not a side a lot of people get to see, let alone a side Oz has seen in himself for a long time and its more intimate than sex

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's covered in it. When I say hairy I don't just mean his chest, I'm talking about back and shoulder hair that he hates but can't be bothered to do anything about it. As much as he dislikes it, he think he'd look stupid if didn't have it and you always manage to change the subject whenever he mentions getting rid of it. You couldn't imagine him without it now it would be wrong on too many levels. Besides you like how his chains rests on the curly hair when he steps out of the shower, and the tufts that sit on his lower back when he rolls over in bed too much. You are guilty of plucking one of the long hairs on his hands and wrist when he's being annoying and also to hear the dramatic yelp he lets out every time.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He might not look like it but Oz is a sap for romance, you've caught him getting a little misty eyed when certain old songs come on the radio in the car or at his place. And he usually mumbles something about his parents dancing to this at an anniversary years ago. When it comes to the bedroom it's no different, even when it's a quickie and you're both too horny to string a sentence together he manages to land a couple heated kisses on your lips. Always accompanied by a large hand cupping your cheek and fingers brushing behind your ear. He's very much into eye contact when he's fucking you, it's another way of letting himself know you want him and you're not thinking of anyone else but him

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Had a decent enough sex drive for a guy in his fifties but in terms of milk and roses he's got a new lease of life when it comes to his libido. He finds himself having to jerk himself off a couple times a week when he's supposed to be working and when you send flirty texts of what you've bought and nudes he can't think of anything else. It's a rush for him and you've inadvertently helped him cut down his drinking habits, purely cos he wants to be able to last long enough with you when he can. He's only jerked off a few times in his office on quiter nights when the dressing room next door is empty, mind always going back to the first night he met you. Every time he finishes into his free hand, he swears he's going to fuck you right on the plush couch like you wanted.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink, degradation kink, femdom, findom, choking, humiliation, dom/sub dynamics

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

There's no possible way for him to pick just ONE place. He’s had you just about everywhere in both your respective apartments but he is partial to fucking you the dingy breakfast table of your apartment. Having you bent over it with wild gasping breaths is enough to finish him off early if he's not careful. He's too enamoured with the way you meet his thrusts every time, showing you're just as eager as him

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Oz has always been a creature of indulgence and giving in. So anytime you splurge with his cash or his credit card statements come in, he gets too turned on to focus on anything else. The idea of you draining his bank account has been the straw that broke the camels back a few times when he's jerked off at work or in Carmine's office when he's stepped out to take a call. And when you tell him he'll be the king of Gotham? He's practically non verbal at that point, all the praise and love you give him sending him over the edge when he pictures fucking you in front of the glass window of Carmines office. His soon to be office, you remind him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I feel that as open as Oz is, he couldn't bring himself to hurt you no matter how much you would try reassure him you want him to. It's different for him to want to be hit or roughened up a little, its about giving you the control and deep down he does believe he deserves the treatment. He just can't imagine doing it to you, it turns his stomach to think of doing something accidentally hurtful for you in bed let alone on purpose

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He LIVES to give head. You could shake him awake in the middle of the night to say you want him to go down on you and he'd jump at the chance. Oz's love language is acts of service and this is no different for him. It gives him the opportunity to show his gratitude for you without having to find the appropriate words for his feelings. He's not the most articulate but he knows you understand with every caress of his scarred cheek and the dig of your nails in the skin of his neck when he goes down on you. I've talked about his reluctance to receiving head in milk and roses and its something he's beginning to enjoy again like he did when he was younger. He knows he's not much to look at, at least in his own eyes and is never pushy if you aren't into the idea for whatever reason. You really need to drill it into his brain that you think he's sexy

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the context really. He's equally skilled at both and if he were to be honest he does enjoy taking it slow. It gives him the opportunity to drag things out for him (ever the masochist) and give you as many orgasms as possible before you tap out. He never thought he'd live to see the day he'd enjoy a slower fuck in the middle of the day but he does. Must be a symptom of getting older he thinks. If you're feeling particularly hot for him you know the buttons to push to get him pounding you deep and quick in no time so it's a happy balance of whatever the two of you are into in the moment

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves a quickie, will gladly take one whenever he can. It makes him feel young again truth be told and fucking you at the Lounge is what he's been waiting for his whole life, and he says all the time he wishes he met you when he was young.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's all about risk, anything you throw at him he's game for. He likes to remind you he's been around the block, and has no real anxiety about trying anything new. If you suggest something he hasn't done before it takes him by surprise, but it turns him on to think that he's inexperienced in something and you're the one who gets to show him the ropes (do not pardon the pun)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's really only got one round in him and he makes it known early on, but he's more than happy to focus on you for however long you want him! It's a rare and welcome surprise when he's got a second round in him and he puts it down to cutting back on the booze. Who needs it when he's practically vegetative after a good session?

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn't own any toys of his own, the girls once tried to buy him something for Christmas one year but someone blabbed and Oz was completely embarrassed and banned any adult presents from being exchanged at secret Santa (no fun allowed 😡)

He's into using them with you or on you exclusively, he's just shy at the idea of buying them. Yes unfortunately you are fucking an old man stuck in his ways. He loves your magic wand and it's become a good friend of his either by making you come even quicker than he can, or when you feel like focusing on him and running it along the length of his dick. You swear you've never seen his cock so red and wet, and you most definitely have never seen him cum so much after a few minutes with it on a medium setting. Plus the needy sounds he made throughout, the ones he couldn't hide or bite his tongue to keep inside were music to your ears 🥰

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You could picture oz as a tease and he is in some ways. When you're in public like in the lounge he likes to tease you by saying he wants you to sit on his lap and feel his hard on for yourself but when it comes down to it, he loves to spoil you. He'd give you anything you asked for, and he's prepared to do it. In between the filthiest dirty talk you've ever heard, he'll whisper in your ear to tell him what you want and you know he'll deliver 😈

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He never stops talking, broken sentences that start and restart several times if you're riding him. Little gasps and whimpers disguised as grunts when you take control. You can feel him practically growl from the depths of his wide chest when you bounce on top of him. As much as he likes to show off, he's not above begging and will gladly do so if you tell him that's what you want to hear. He'll beg nicely, quietly, loudly whatever way you want if it means he can cum and he loves when you flex that power over him

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Would gladly wear a cage for you, he's daydreamed about it a few times since meeting you and seeing you get into the financial domination side of things plants the seed in his mind. You've asked in the moments before climax who owns him, and who owns his dick and he happily splutters that its you and only you each time - he hopes you'd be into the idea of keeping him locked up for your use only. He just has to think of how to bring it up, he secretly hopes you will first.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

We've all seen colins dick, we all know it's FAT. Oz foolishly thinks it looks smaller cos he's gained weight to which you reply that you're glad you met him when you did. You don't think you could have taken much more of him to begin with. He does love when you tell him how big he is when he's inside you, or much he's stretching you. It puts him under your spell every time 😏

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fairly high, especially since meeting you. But Oz gets turned on by the violence that's married to his life and business, so he tends to bottle it till he sees you and well we know what happens 🥴

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As much as he'd like to fall straight asleep, he likes to make sure you're settled and comfortable first. Even if he's fighting to keep his eyes open, he'll mumble some sweet pillow talk first before he dozes off. You can barely understand his words but appreciate the sentiment in his warm tone.

#oz cobblepot #oz cobblepot x reader #oswald cobblepot #oswald cobblepot x reader #ok back to writing i go #this was fun tho omg

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thotsforvillainrights · 2 years

Note

Ok this might cause great chaos, I mean even more so than the office gremlins usually make, but what if Skeptic and Geten fell for the same s/o due to the fact they were legitimately the first person to be genuinely kind to them?

(Expect it to be less than civil with a little bit of pettiness mixed in there. I may be slaughtering their canon personalities in the process, but who cares. I love writing stuff like this lol)

~Skeptic, Geten & Falling for the same S/O~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Let’s say you transfer to Deika for a job or whatnot and you end up working under Hanabata and his offices. Through him (naturally) you’ve worked your way into a friendship pretty fast. Your kindness gives you the upper-hand with him and you also find yourself being promoted much quicker than the others despite being there for such a short time. You’ve made a few enemies in coworkers for that but it’s a story for a different time. Anyhow, you start to tag along with him on lunches and dinners as you pick his brain for work information to help you better yourself at the job. Unfortunately you had to turn him down when he eventually asked you on a date sometime in the future. Luckily for you he brushed it off and didn’t take it personally. He simply wasn’t your type. Even more lucky is that your rejection didn’t cost you the job either! Other than this, you eventually got to meet with his friends and mingle yourself into the liberation army somehow. Everyone was rather taken with you but there were two that seemed to be more interested than the rest.

-Skeptic and Geten were the two main members to be avoided at all cost (especially if you lacked thick skin). Skeptic often made note to condemn you of any mistakes or slip ups you made in front of him. He was cold, calculating, and a perfectionist above all else. He never put his faith in you to do anything right and whenever you slightly messed up, you had to listen to him basically degrade you for 15 minutes straight. Geten was rather rude in a snake-ish kind of way. He didn’t hesitate to say mean things about you under his breath. He constantly questioned your validity and your place in the MLA above all else. On top of that he went out of his way to avoid you and when he had to be near you, he never spared his mean words. You were sure both of them hated you the most. However, you wouldn’t let this get you down! You had a few experiences like this in your life before so you wasted no time applying yourself in the right ways. Kill them with kindness. Each day you went out of your way to be especially kind to both of the men. Sometimes you poured yourself out to Skeptic, bringing him breakfast every morning and baking him some good every week. He never asked you for any of it, and he never thanked you either. Meanwhile you always extended your help to Geten in whatever he did. Anytime he’d injury himself you made sure to help patch him up despite his complaints. Over time it was clear to see you were finally making progress with them.

-Meanwhile on their end, something was happening to both of them...Skeptic started to think about you more than his very own work (which is something he despised yet couldn’t stop). He started to look forward to your daily coffee/breakfast runs, and your weekly baked good just for him. Your kind smile radiated warmth whenever you’d gift it to him. One day he finally took the effort to mumble a ‘thank you’ to which he hopes didn’t come out too awkwardly. He started to feel special at the thought of you doing these things just for him. Geten on the other hand was beginning to slip up (on purpose) just at an attempt to be near you. He quietly watched you clean his scratches and bandage his wounds like nothing. The focused look in your eyes coupled with your gentle touch was making him feel some type of way. He grumbled and complained less and less. When you offered to help him, he secretly cherished the time he was able to share with you. A lot of thinking went on behind the scenes while you remained unaware of the growing passion for you. One day it finally boiled over!

-Skeptic had heard you were back in Detnerat’s building today after being away for a little while helping Hanabata with his new campaign. You hadn’t had time to bring him breakfast like usual but that was okay. He was away working on his own company so it was understandable. He smiled to himself as he paced down the hallway and reached the doorway where you were at. His arm were heavy, weighed down by the flowers and chocolates as well as the other items he purchased for you. He was going to confess his feelings to you today even if he died of embarrassment. Just when he reached for the door handle, his hand touched another familiar hand. He quickly looked to see it was Geten, arm also full of various items. It didn’t take him long to connect the dots and he glared. “What do you think you’re doing then?” Skeptic asked in annoyance. Geten scoffed before answering him in a smart-ass tone. “What the Hell does it look like I’m doing? I’m assuming you have the same thing in mind?” Skeptic grits his teeth momentarily as the two stare each other down. Suddenly the door begins to open and they both take off down the hallway, dropping the items for you to find. You probably shrug either of them off as secret admirers and come to think that perhaps it must be Hanabata trying at your heart again.

-For the next 2 weeks both boys begin to become more and more forward with you while being more aggressive with each other as well. They often try to find ways to one-up each other as they compete for your affections, meanwhile you start to feel a little overwhelmed and surprised by all the attention both of them are showing you. Your days began to consist of Skeptic coming to chat with you with a more friendly demeanor than what you’re used to. He started to buy you lunches and dinners more often and also had his puppets help out around Hanabata’s offices when you were away. He’d also extended his help whenever you needed it should you ever need it (tech wise). Geten was different. Now you noticed that instead of ignoring you, he was lingering around you more than usual. He followed you around whenever you were at Detnerat as if he was a lost little puppy. He was getting hurt more often so you figured it was for the best that he was near you anyway. He sometimes even graced you with a small conversation, something out of the ordinary for someone like him. For a little while you just thought you’d gotten through to them with your kindness but now you were picking up on a few things here and there. One of the things was the way they were at each others throats when they were in the same room with you. It was like a display of dominance or something odd like that. You’d never seen them insult each other like this before. It clicked: you had some crushes. That was likely why you had all that stuff at the doorway a few weeks ago. Some of the items were repeats meaning it was gifted to you by both of them.

-Although you had turned down Hanabata when you two had first gotten close, it wasn’t the same with Skeptic and Geten now that you knew they’d both favored you. They were (unlike Koku) each your type. Now it was simply up to you to choose who you would confront about feelings...

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #skeptic bnha #tomoyasu chikazoku #bnha geten #mla #meta liberation army #Headcanon

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 2 years

Text

Welcome to the Love Club

Pairing: Yandere! Yoshikage Kira x reader

Description: You didn’t think it was a good idea to break in to Kira’s house but your best friend, Yukiko, thought it was a fantastic way for you to learn more about him. You always did have a hard time saying no to her… you just hope that things didn’t end up too bad for the two of you…

Content Warning: Yandere, canon typical Killer Queen bs, canon typical creepy Kira shit, character death (but not from jjba, just a character I made up), minor description of blood and injuries, ask to tag

Rating: sfw

Word Count: 3177

Notes: Whoops, I cannot fucking help myself. I have an idea, I write it, I find out far too late it cannot be contained in a one shot, I suffer the consequences. Regardless, here’s this. I fucking love Kira and this idea refused to leave me alone so here it is! Expect part two uh, whenever. I still have more bullshit to unveil, so fear now.

Notes, again: I had been looking for this all NIGHT I've been moving fics over to this blog since like, 8 looking for this one. I've been playing with the stand the reader gains with this in another story so I FINALLY can write a part 2 to this like. a year later sksksks

Part: One | Two

You were sure, when you were younger, you had grander dreams for yourself. Finish your education, get a nice job, find that someone special, maybe even start a family… who knows, really.

As of now, you didn’t really mind though, you found yourself content in your current place. After all, you did get a nice education and even if your job could be a little mundane now and then, it paid the bills and then some and that’s all you could really ask for.

Really, you didn’t mind working at a small office in Morioh. You were friends enough with most of your coworkers and enjoyed going out with them from time to time, even lucky enough to be working with one of your close friends you had known since high school.

She had always been… well, it put it nicely, Yukiko was certainly the more outgoing one. Not that you were shy per-se, more so it was hard to match her energy. Someone so vibrant like her was appreciated around your work, at least by most people. Still, she caused her fair share of trouble– and loved to drag you into it.

Out of everything you had, you lacked well… a partner. Yuki whined and pouted, complaining about it more than you how ‘someone so cute and sweet shouldn’t be single for so long!’ While you agreed, you had simply forgotten to look for romance when pursuing your career and education.

Still, the heart is a fickle thing, something you knew far too well. After all, there was one man you worked with that always managed to make your heartbeat pick up with his soft smiles and kind gestures…

“I can’t believe I let you drag me into this,” You huff at your friend, running your hands over your arms quickly. You weren’t cold but were quickly growing uncomfortable the closer the two of you grew to your destination.

“It’s because you likeeee him” You didn’t appreciate the way your friend drew out the word, eyeing you playfully as she giggled. “Besides, chances like this don’t happen often!”

“Still… we’re invading his privacy. Kira is a very private person… I can’t imagine how upset he would be if he found out we were doing this, Yukiko…” Just saying his name had goosebumps rising up on your skin; the early summer air was warm and welcoming but you felt anything but that.

“But I found out where he lived! And overheard him say he would be busy tonight! All for you! So you can make a move!” She argued. “Come on, we’re close!” She dragged you by the hand and you stumbled after her. “After all, surely you can learn something about Kira at his house, right?” She argued.

“Well…” You didn’t have the heart to fight against her right now, your nerves growing as you neared his house. The nameplate read Kira… you were certainly in the right place. “Couldn’t what we’re doing be considered a crime?” You tried one last time.

“Oh pshh” She waved your hand dismissively, easily walking into the grounds of his house. You followed suit, not liking how wrong it felt to be walking in his garden. “Besides, I was right! His car isn’t here,” She laughed in a way you could only call evil. “Everything is going so well!”

“Going well? I feel like I could throw up I’m so nervous.” You admitted, still sticking close to her. To your horror, she went right for the door, turning the knob and frowning softly when the lock wouldn’t give. She ignored you and milled about, looking for an extra key.

“Come on, you think someone like Kira would leave a key around, Yuki?” You pulled her gently back by the shoulder. “Let’s just leave before someone sees us.”

“No way! We’ve made it this far already!” She marched away from the door, humming to herself as she stood a ways back to look for another way in. “Oh! Hey wait!” She jogged up to a nearby window. “Look, he left it cracked open! Probably enjoyed a nice breeze while he ate his breakfast and forgot to close it.” You only frowned as she struggled to push it open more.

“Well come on and help me, _____!” She cried. You scrambled over, deciding that now, Yukiko was right; there was no going back, not after this. With your help, the window gave way and opened wide enough for Yukiko to fit inside.

“Alright, hoist me up, and I’ll let you in threw the front door!” You folded your hands together and gave her a boost, grunting as you lifted her up and over into the house.

“Don’t break anything!” You cried as she pulled herself through. Once in, she gave you a thumbs up and ran to meet you at the door, all grins. “I can’t believe we actually did this,” You breathed, entering the threshold of Kira’s home.

“Believe it,” Yuki laughed. She had turned on a light in the room she came in, it looked to be the kitchen and dining room. The two of you ventured further in the house, careful as you could be in your wonder and excitement.

You gleaned at old family photos and knick nacks, and marveled at his décor. Even in his home, Kira was refined, dignified, and polished. You wondered how he managed to maintain professionalism, even in his own home…

“Oh look, here’s his bedroom!” It was divided by a slide, one side housing his bed, dresser, and some other personal effects, the other a desk and some shelves. You and Yukiko divided, with her snickering “I’ll let you look at his clothing.”

You ignored her comment and your own blush. Something was calling you, anyways.

Yukiko was a little loud with her ohhs and ahhs but you wouldn’t have gotten this far with her had you not learned to filter her words. Kira’s bed was well made as if he had never once slept in it. Of the few things lining his dresser mirror, they were all well organized; his cologne (you ignored the urge to smell it; you weren’t that weird), some medication, and other things you glossed over.

His top drawer was filled with ties. You always did love the ties he wore; when you had caught him in conversation one day, he admitted that many of them were custom made. It was a fond memory, one of the only times you could remember the smile on his face was genuine as he explained to you his weakness for cats.

It was… cute, and endeared him to you more if at all possible.

His other drawers held what you might expect; some more casual but still rather nice clothing for his leisure, belts, socks, underwear, and the likes. Still, you checked them all, sitting on your knees before the dresser as you slowly opened the bottom drawer.

To your surprise, no clothing sat there but instead something a nice cloth had been draped over. Pulling it up gently, you gasped in surprise. It was an ornate bow and arrow, the arrow its self more than the bow.

You wouldn’t have ever guessed Kira was into archery; still, this arrow seemed even too fancy for that. Just holding it in your hands, you could swear it thrummed with some kind of power… It was strange.

“Hey Yukik-” You craned your neck to catch your friend’s attention, your breath catching in your throat as you saw Kira before her, looking none too pleased.

She was pallor, not even knowing how to explain the situation. Before her on the ground was a jar, broken and spilling… something. She must have dropped it in surprise in seeing him… Kira didn’t even say anything; he grabbed Yukiko roughly by the wrist with his left hand while in his right, making an odd motion– as if he were setting off a bomb– and before your very eyes she was reduced to nothing. Even the dust in her wake quickly faded, as if she were never there to begin with.

You didn’t have a moment to even comprehend what you saw, crying out in pain. You looked back to your hands, surprised to see the arrow you had been so carefully holding had pierced right into your thigh. Deeply, too, as if someone had stabbed it into you with intent. Right as the noise left you, Kira’s gaze turned your way, surprised etched into his features as he saw you.

“W-wait, please.” Tears were rimming your eyes. You knew it, you knew it, you shouldn’t have come here with Yukiko. This was a bad idea and it, she was just… she was gone.

“Please, don’t hurt me.” You fully turned to face him, backing yourself up against his dresser to seem as defenseless and subdued as possible. “L-look, I hurt myself. I wouldn’t be able to escape even if I tired!” You cried.

“The arrow…” Kira moved to you with purpose, causing you to flinch when he reached you. Without a care, he pulled the arrow from your thigh. You cried out, the pain of it being torn out far greater than that of it going it. You clutched at your thigh, sure the wound would be bleeding but… hardly any blood came out. It was as if hadn’t been touched at all. But you could see your blood clearly coating the arrow where it had sunk into your flesh…

“So, you’ve been chosen.” His voice was even, betraying no emotion per usual. “But your Stand will be no match for Killer Queen.” He stood again and to your shock and horror, beside him manifested some tall, muscular… cat man? That was the best way to describe what you saw before you. Kira was reaching for you and you knew you couldn’t have that happen.

You had to protect yourself at all costs.

“W-wait!” You caught his cold gaze with your own and for a moment, you saw it soften. You had to cling to that, look him in the eyes and keep speaking. “Kira I… I’m sorry you caught me like this,” You admitted, bashful.

He paused, pulling back softly as something stirred in him. While it was true that you were far preferable compared to the company you kept around and many of the other people the two of you worked with, Kira knew you had to be dealt with. You had just unknowingly gained a Stand, one that might be a counter to his own Killer Queen. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to end you just yet…

“It… was Yuki’s idea… I know now that’s not saying much…” You sigh, closing your eyes a moment before meeting his gaze once more. “I-it’s a little embarrassing but well…” You bit your cheek, both flustered at admitting this and repulsed at yourself at the same time. He just did something to Yukiko, and you’re confessing your love to him?

“We came here because I wanted to get to know you better… I um, really like you Kira.” You felt like a school girl again and god, it was terrible. A scared, confused, nervous school girl who was quite literally putting everything on the line to survive.

Kira was actually rendered speechless for a moment. Your sudden confession bringing about… very confusing feelings in him. No person had made him feel this way ever. Since when had you become so… special to him? The thought of having to get rid of you now was actually upsetting him… It was all strange and foreign to him.

It suddenly hit him; you were probably using the power of your stand and you didn’t even know it. Kira was powerless to stop it as well, just as ignorant as you on what it could possibly be.

“You…” He paused, taking careful consideration with his words. He hated this, hated feeling so… soft in front of you. Was your stand preying on any positive feeling he had for you before?

“It was wrong of you to come to my house uninvited but…” You perked up as he paused again.

What was he saying? You knew too much. Kira couldn’t trust you to leave and say nothing but he also couldn’t stand the idea of you, in your entirety being gone. It was frustrating beyond belief.

“Now that you’ve come, I can’t allow you to leave.” There was only one choice. Kira had to keep you here until he could figure out a way to rid himself of your stands effects on him…

“I-I’m sorry?” You blinked up owlishly, not quite sure you heard him correctly. “Kira did you just um… say I had to stay? Here?” You stood up, standing before Kira and whatever it was beside him. It watched you as impassively as he did…

“That’s right.” Kira sighed, running a hand through his hair.

What sort of mess was he getting into? His quiet life was starting to slip out of his grasp all because of you. But he found he couldn’t be all that upset about it, the prospect of you staying here with him making him far too excited to be good.

By all means, he should be upset– you and your friend brake into his house while he’s out meeting his new girlfriend, figure out what he’s doing and you even get struck by his stand arrow. Instead, he can’t help but puff up a little seeing your eyes on him.

Conflicting emotions well up in Yoshikage Kira but he knows one thing; you make him happy, far more than any girlfriend, past or present, ever had. It was a dangerous feeling for someone like him to be having for another person.

“Until I know how your stand has affected me, I can’t let you out of my sight.” Perhaps, after all, it was a good thing the two of you were coworkers.

Kira could only smirk; perhaps luck was favoring him, after all.

“S-stand? Kira, you’re making no sense…” You frown glancing over to where Yukiko once stood. “And uhh… what did you do to Yukiko? She was standing right in front of you a few minutes ago, but…” Your voice trailed, unwilling to admit what you knew to be true. But surely he hadn’t done that…?

“My Killer Queen took care of her.” He stated simply, offering no other explanation to the matter. “It’s my stand. Stands are…” Kira paused a moment. “A measure of ones will– a reflection of their determination and deepest desires.” He smiled softly looking your way.

You looked so cute, brows furrowed in confusion and unshed tear glistening in your eyes… He rid himself of those thoughts, though. “When that arrow struck you, you gained an ability of your own. It’s the only reason you’re still living now.” You swallowed harshly, nodding meekly at his words. “Either you really wanted to stay alive… or you must really like me _____,”

The intimacy of him using your first name was not lost on you. Heat flooded your cheeks as you watched him for any change in his demeanor. He had that same, soft, charming look on his face he often donned at work when the two of you ended up talking about cats… To see him looking at you with such unadulterated adoration in such a place, after all he had said and did was as confusing and maddening as it was pleasing.

“Then… why aren’t you killing me now? Like you did to Yuki….” Your words were soft but Kira was listening to every one very closely, watching as a few silent tears slid down your cheeks.

“You make me happy… it’s as simple as that.” Kira gave you a small, nonchalant shrug. His total lack of apathy for the situation at hand had you reeling.

Ten minutes of being alone with him in his own house and you had seen so many new faces of Yoshikage Kira you were sure you weren’t ready for yet.

“The moment that ceases so be… Well, if that happens I’ll show you Killer Queen’s real power.” All you could do was nod at his words. You weren’t sure what to make of anything anymore.

Honestly, all that mattered in the moment was that Kira said he wouldn’t kill you yet. Everything else could come after this night– survival was key. And if survival meant learning what your ‘stand’ was and how to best manipulate it to your new situation here with Kira then you would do so, gladly.

After all, if Kira had simply killed Yukiko upon seeing her in this room… she must have figured something out. Something Kira didn’t want to get out… You were spared because that arrow decided to lodge its self in your thigh. Almost as if if had chosen you for some reason…

So for now, you would play along. Keeping Kira happy couldn’t be too hard, could it? After all, if your stand made it so you just… being here made him happy, perhaps things would be easier than you anticipated. He couldn’t keep tabs on you all the time, could he?

“Ahh… it’s the weekend, isn’t it?” Kira hummed. “We don’t have to go in tomorrow. I wonder, what will we do with our time together…?” Kira found that teasing you brought him just as much if not more joy that simply watching you.

He couldn’t help himself. Your stand was far more dangerous than you even realized. Perhaps, with enough work on his end, he could use that to his advantage.

After all, you got yourself into this mess by admitting to Kira just how much you adored him; really, had you stayed quiet and accepted your fate, neither of you would be in the current mess you found yourselves in. But for once, Kira couldn’t say he minded…

“We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” He gently cupped your cheek. You flinched and closed your eyes, likely knowing what this meant for you having seen what happened to your friend. “Don’t fret, it’s only a precaution. You won’t die as long as you behave.”

“Behave…?” You repeated softly. Kira could only smile softly, his mind flowing over with how cute you looked and acted. “I-I’m not looking to die soon so um, I’ll do my best, I guess…” You frowned, looking to the floor.

Just what had you gotten yourself into? You should have been more persistent when you told Yukiko you had a bad feeling about this…

“Good girl.” Kira couldn’t help the praise, nor the sweet way he trailed his hand down your cheek.

Even if you were subconsciously using your stand, it was having incredible effects on him… He noticed, too, how you seemed to only fluster at his comment. Perhaps, you breaking into his house was a good thing, after all. He would have to wait and see but Kira was quite certain your disturbance of his quiet life might actually improve it after all.

#jjba #yandere kira x reader #yandere yoshikage kira x reader #kira x reader #yandere x reader #jjba part 4 diamond is unbreakable

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87435678753256732 · 1 year

Text

Feb 2023

helo!!! we are 3 months into 2023, and wow has it been a ride. the last time i posted, i had been broken up with and was processing the grief. i wanted to reflect on that a little more before i update you on the next things that have happened.

januarys retrograde sucked! or at least that’s what i thought at the moment. i am SO happy things happened the way they did, and that i was let go instead of staying in an awkward relationship that i convinced myself could somehow work. let me list the weird things i now am happy i left behind. 1. lack of sexual discipline. i’m all about sexual positivity, but there is definitely a line that cannot be crossed. fantasizing about weird sexual topics (incest?!) is fucking weird. 2. unrealistic goals. i’m all about supporting people, and i understand that not everyone has similar career timelines, but having unrealistic goals for yourself with things you aren’t even good at was a bit painful to see. i was the funny one basically. 3. couldn’t make me cum. okay, selfish some might say, but damn! couldn’t at least pick up a book or something? 4. mom. okay, your mom was hot and i’ll miss her. you had a terrible relationship with her which should have been a red flag. especially when you physically let out your anger. that’s the list so far that i can think of. basically, i did charity work. i’m not entirely bad bc i got to learn so much about myself and others during this short period of time. my mom asked what happened. i told her things were off, and our personalities weren’t a good match. i’m embarrassed that i brought him over for christmas, especially when he did nothing but complain about the food and games we played with my family. the gift he told me he didn’t even pick out, then later blamed the effort put on my birthday instead. what the fuck? lmao. my mom believes i was used for my body, and warned me to not let other men easily let me give myself up again. i can tell she really didn’t like him, i would’ve appreciate a heads up or something. my best friend also shared similar sentiment. her first issue was when he asked me about having an open relationship, something i would never imagine myself doing as a strictly monogamous person, which i let him know. i believe the desire to explore sexually also let to the breakup, which would make more sense than blaming my physical appearance. an introvert and extrovert aren’t a good “opposites attract” story like people say. anyways, it’s march and things have been awesome. but first let me talk about February.

on the second half of january, i focused on reflecting and healing. i had my therapy sessions and rants with online friends about the issue. their validation helped me tremendously. i will admit that it was easy for me to move on so quickly because i 1. convinced myself to like this person, even as a friend and 2. i didn’t allow myself to fall in love with them. my gut feeling did NOT let me, which im extremely grateful for now that i look back. the negative traits outshined the positive. the main obstacle i was getting past was the attachment, for example, no longer having someone to check in on.

in february, i sat with the idea of possibly dating again, even if it was just for casual hookups. i mentioned this in a jokingly way to my best friend, and she suggested that i download hinge. i decided to download it in the beginning of february, and set up my profile the first day. i had previously known about the number of men that outnumber women, so i was aware that i might have an influx of folks. and i was right! i met some people that were fun to talk to, but things didn’t go anywhere. and i met others that felt like i was talking at a job interview, asking them questions without them asking any questions about me. i went on my first hinge date feb 10 i believe, and it wasn’t as terrible as i thought it could be. the guy pulled up in a cowboy fit, which was interesting. possibly going through a manic episode. he paid for our food, which i insisted on helping with, and didn’t suggest doing anything sexual which was pretty nice of him. i wouldn’t have minded it, but it was also interesting to see what religious ppl do instead of hooking up. we stopped talking about three days after the date, mostly bc of his inconsistency and lack of desire to go on a second date (yet wanted to keep texting?) i told my best friend we’d hop on and start swiping again on monday. from monday to wednesday, i focused on ppl that had sent me likes instead of sending them myself. priority shipping if you will. there were def some interesting characters in the mix. i will admit that i focused more on people that replied to my prompts, as we’d have something to talk about. on monday i swiped on a guy that questioned the mcdonald’s rewards system, which i was suspicious about. from mom-wed, i kept up with the conversations i had (around 5?) but noticed only one stood out, one person that kept up with my dumb shit. he asked me out on a date tht wednesday, and we went with the bit and went to mcdonalds. i drove to the location and arrived about 10 minutes after leaving home. i was nervous, mainly bc all this guys pics looked kind of different, but fuck it. i parked and called, and his voice as HOT AS FUCK. a teardrop fell down my ear but i knew i couldn’t let my horniness succumb my ability to form a relationship. pulled up, and HOLY FUCK this guy was cute/hot/handsome/WOW. first thing i thought was holy shit, his pics didn’t do him justice (but hey, that means more fer me). we get our food and talk for about an hour. our date last around 3-4 hours, and then we go inside his car bc it was really windy and cold outside. there, we do more talking and find out more things about ourselves. he told me about a person he had recently ended things with due to various reasons, and i stood there wide eyed as i realized i would be nothing like that person. as we talk more, he ask for a kiss, and my whore brain automatically turns on and goes YIPPEE! but i act cool 😎 and lean in. WOAH was it hot. we pull away, look at eachother, and then do some more kissing. i stop to laugh because we’re literally still at the mcdonald’s parking lot. i ask if maybe we could take the car elsewhere, and he mentions he could take us back to his place. WOWOWJWPWAHJ instant gushing from my coochie. i was so sex deprived and borderline desperate that i eagerly agreed. my sex drive is high, which i mentioned, and he told me his was too. typical for a man, heh. fast forward, we hook up and dudes pussy whipped. pulled out the old tricks in the book and wowed him. he asked what my bc was, since apparently i seemed seasoned. i told him, and asked what his was. double digits?! HARLOT! but guy laid pipe really fucking good so i guess i’m glad i got to meet the seasoned veteran. so this was in february (2/22) angels numbers, woaaaa

about three days after we see each other, he tells me that he plans on deleting binge, and that he likes me. i’m like WOWIE, tht was fast. ff to 2/26, and i ask if he’d like to be in a relationship with me, to which he quickly replies “yes” to. waooo. i will have to make a second post for march, keep ya updated!

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

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Hello! Lots of love to you. 😘 can I request GoM+ Takao thinks reader is going to breakup with them but is actually not. It can be funny misunderstanding or angst anything really. Happy ending.

A/N: Lots of kisses for you my dear anon! 💋 I tried to keep them all the same length, but guess what?? I failed (✌︎ ՞ਊ ՞)✌︎ Hope you’ll enjoy these nonetheless!! <33

Tags: GoM and Takao x reader ✅ SFW ✅ fluff ✅ angst ✅ jealousy ✅

image/art source: Takao -> Pixiv (by もいさま)

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Kuroko:

Being in a relationship with Kuroko was filled with nothing but tranquility and love. The two of you rarely had any type of conflict with each other, but one very urgent problem you’d always had in mind was the lack of communication. Because your boyfriend was so silent and barely complained whenever something was amiss, you tended to misunderstand each other…

One morning after you’d entered Seirin’s school building, you immediately caught a glimpse of your blue-haired boyfriend, and just as you were about to go up to him and greet him with your usual hug, he wordlessly turned his back to you and disappeared in the crowd. His behavior was quite unusual, but you figured that he just didn’t see you and went on with your day.

Unfortunately, the young man kept showing you the cold shoulder on that day, and by the end of his team’s basketball training, he’d even gone back home before you.

“Did something between you two happen?” asked Kagami as soon as he saw your dejected reaction to the unexpected news. Your grip on your school bag’s rims tightened and you simply shook your head.

“Not that I’m aware of anything…”

“Then why don’t you just ask him?”

His teammates stared daggers at the tall young man who had once again said something insensitive, but to you, it was a simple summary of the constant problem between your lover and yourself, so you couldn’t help but giggle at his question and nod.

——

Just where have you hidden yourself Tetsu?!

Annoyance had distorted your usually calm facial features and was chasing away any of your classmates that hoped to approach you for whatever reasons. After Kagami had given you the necessary push you needed, you made it your mission to find your lover and confront him once and for all, but he was nowhere to be found. No matter who you asked, where you went, what you did, it was as if he never came to school. At times such as these, his low presence proved to be pretty useful and a damn nightmare for you, but you stayed vigilant and even decided to make use of some…unexpected tactics.

During the second break, you sprinted to your lover’s classroom, knowing fully well that he was already gone, and called for his partner, who only very reluctantly agreed to accompany you during your search. The plan you’d forged relied entirely on Kagami’s strong presence that - according to his teammates - was so strong that even the people who saw him daily couldn’t help but stare at him. You knew that Kuroko was more or less immune to this and preferred to look down at his book, so you were positive that with this plan you’d find the odd one out of the crowd pretty easily.

Luckily for you, the plan was a success and after just a couple of minutes you’d caught sight of the familiar blue hair, but when you locked eyes with your loved one, a sharp pain ran through your chest. Kuroko looked heartbroken and had to bite his lip to hide his anger and tears.

“(Y/N), this is your chance! Go! Run!”

The unexpected encouragement from the man next to you managed to wake you up from your trance and not even a second later you were running after your lover. Fortunately for you, he wasn’t that quick and on top of that, you were convinced that he ran extra slower than usual because somewhere deep inside of him he wanted to talk to you as well.

“(Y/N)…I-”

“We can’t continue like this Tetsu,” you began and intended to take a small breather before you continued, but the anxious face of your counterpart made you reconsider, “what I mean to say is, that we can’t ignore our constant misunderstandings due to miscommunication. I love you Tetsuya and whenever I am with you everything is nearly perfect, but we need to do something about your aversion of expressing your opinion and my reluctance to speak up about it.”

You couldn’t blame him for being so surprised that he couldn’t answer instantly since you surprised even yourself with how direct you were. Just as you were about to break the uncomfortable silence between you two, Kuroko unexpectedly wrapped his arms around you in a hug.

“Thank god…I thought you wanted to leave me for Kagami-kun.”

“Excuse me, what? Why would I-” you stopped for a moment and remembered the scene he saw just a couple of minutes ago before you corrected him, “…I needed his help to find you, since all of my earlier attempts were futile against the legendary Phantom Sixth man, you know?”

And with that small joke, you both chuckled, kissed each other, and decided to spent the rest of the break hand-in-hand, while you resolved the small thorn in your relationship.

Kise:

Being Kise’s lover was pretty tiresome and restricting. Since he was a famous model a lot of rules had to be followed by not only him but you as well.

Any selfies you took are not to be shared with anyone and not to be published. Bragging about him as your boyfriend was out of the question. Public dates? I think not.

When his manager had first thrown all of these at you, you were pretty stomped and ready to burst with anger, but he stopped you and after your talk, Kise reassured you that you would still do the majority of the things “normal” couples do, but you’d simply have to be more careful and aware of your surroundings than others. You trusted him of course and he didn’t lie, in fact, he made an enormous effort to provide you with a proper love life, one that you deserved. Much to your surprise, everything was working out just fine and you got used to the abnormalities of some situations pretty quickly, but as we all know life can rarely be filled with nothing but sunshine and rainbows…

-` EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH MODEL №1 KISE RYOUTA ´-

That was the headline of one of the many magazines your boyfriend was featured in. You always made sure to show your support for his career by buying almost every issue that had a section dedicated to your blond lover, that and the fact that the photographers and designers always made him look hotter than he already was. With a big grin on your face, you browsed the magazine until you found the corresponding pages and began reading yet another interview.

At first, the questions were pretty standard and tame, asking the young model what his future plans were, how he manages school, basketball club, and modeling without being stressed out at all, and many more similar questions such as these. Being his significant other, you caught a few lies of his that he had to make up in order to keep your relationship a secret and even though it didn’t sit entirely right with you, you brushed it off since you knew that he couldn’t help it. With mixed feelings, you read on until one particular question and answer caught your eye.

-` Q: A lot of your female fans have been constantly speculating about what type of boyfriend you’d make, what’s your take on that subject?

-` A: (laughs) Well you see, I hate to break it to everyone, but I like the type of women that don’t tie me down. I just can’t imagine myself being with the same person every single day, it’d be quite suffocating, you know?

You stared at that answer for a while, hoping that the words would just merge into something that didn’t sound so…ruthless, but to no avail. Just as you were about to continue your lecture, the front door to your apartment opened and the familiar voice of your lover echoed, filling your home with more life than before. While the blond removed his shoes and jacket you quickly hid away the magazine and forced yourself to smile, hoping that he wouldn’t notice…

——

“You damn idiot, what were you thinking?!”

“Oh (Y/N)…what do you even see in him?”

“I have never been more pissed off to be in the same team as you…”

The moment Kise had entered the gym to participate in today’s training all of his teammates had surrounded him and had begun reprimanding him for something he couldn’t quite understand because of how chaotic everyone was. It took a while, but when they became more or less calm he used to chance to find out just what’s got them so pissed off.

“Isn’t it obvious you imbecile?! That over the top answer of yours is what we’re so mad about”

“Kasamatsu-senpai I can’t quite follow…what answer are you referring to?”

After being kicked down by the shorter man and lectured yet another time, Kise finally understood just what this fuss was about. You’d been quite out of it since his latest interview got published, so the guys decided to find out what had you so bothered and the answer was, of course, Kise…who else?

“B-But I didn’t mean it! It was just for show an–”

“Does (Y/N) know?” interrupted Moriyama with an unusually serious tone. Your lover intended to answer fully confident that you were aware, but a small voice inside of his mind stopped him in his tracks. How were you supposed to know that he didn’t mean it when he never explained himself? What if the reason you’d been so absentminded these past few days was that you were planning on leaving him?

N-No…I can’t let that happen…i-if we break up then what am I–

“Excuse me, is Kise here?”

At the unexpected sound of your voice all of the members instantly shut up, turning to you, but before anyone could answer you, the blond took off sprinting right towards you and wrapping his muscular arms around your body.

“Please forgive me (Y/N)-cchi, I…I figured we’d been over this and that you know that no matter what I say to the press, I never really mean it. It’s all supposed to be a façade to make me more attractive to the public, b-but you know me, right? The real, insecure, weak, and ambitious me…the one that’s no good without you…”

Even if he’d taken you by surprise with his sudden hug, his words rendered you pretty much immobile and left you with no choice but to listen to his desperate apology. He held you tighter and buried his face in the crack of your neck. The moment you felt something wet drip down on your clothing, you wrapped your arms around him protectively, gently caressing his head, and kissing his temple all the while he whispered one apology after the other, begging you to never leave his side.

“I won’t ever leave you, Kise…I promise”

Midorima:

“…and with that, we’re coming to today’s last and unfortunately most unluckiest signs of all…Cancer!”

At the sudden announcement, Midorima flinched, grip tightening on his iPod, as he continued listening to his daily horoscope. His sign being the unluckiest out of all was quite the rarity and that alone was worrisome, but the fact that today’s misfortune was predicted to be in his love life made the man the more afraid. Usually, he’d ignore any prognosis that went beyond his career, but the moment you had become his girlfriend, Midorima couldn’t help but lend an ear every time the presenter of his favorite show mentioned the word love.

Your lover’s flame for you has been near extinction, I suggest breaking up with them before they do, or else this pain will haunt you for eternity…

With heavy steps, the green-haired man made his way to his school, lucky item in hand and a never before experienced fear deeply rooted in his heart. If possible he’d try to avoid you as much as possible today, so that you couldn’t break things off with him. He was aware that his behavior was quite over the top, but that was his way to cope with the anxiety of losing you - his most important person. In Midorima’s eyes this was a solid plan, but putting it into action was harder than expected.

Every time you jogged up to him with your angelic smile, your big and beautiful eyes that sparkled the moment you saw him, the energetic way you waved to your boyfriend when you spotted him across the hallway were so adorable and heart-warming that whenever he had to act extra cold towards you, it felt like his heart was being torn apart anew every single time. While he was beating himself up over his behavior, you simply shrugged it off and figured that he was on his usual tsundere trip for some reason and decided to ask him about it after basketball practice.

“Shin-chan sure is acting weird today, huh?” asked Takao with a hint of amusement in his voice as he sat down next to you on a bench in the courtyard. You simply looked up at him and nod with resigned smile on your face as you answered: “I’m somehow used to his antics, but something must’ve happened for him to act so…distant.”

The boy next to you studied your expression and despite his usual enjoyment of watching a misunderstanding between the two of you unfold, he could see how much the green-haired man’s behavior was weighing on you, so he broke his silence and told you about Midormia’s plan that he’d schemed following today’s horoscope.

——

“Midorima Shintarou, we need to talk…now!”

Your loud and sudden order startled the young man in gym clothes, who was mere movements away from throwing his umpteenth three-pointer, as well as his teammates. If it weren’t for the serious tone in your voice, he would’ve come up with some kind of excuse to dodge the upcoming conversation.

Now that the two of you were outside of the gym you didn’t beat around the bush and got straight to the point: “Are you seriously avoiding me all day because of Oha Asa’s words? Is that how little you believe in me and my feelings for you?” Your boyfriend never quite knew how to deal with such straightforwardness and seeing how with each question you uttered, the tears in the corners of your eyes grew, pushed him even further into a corner until he couldn’t handle it anymore and just needed to shut you up. Out of nowhere Midorima took a tight hold of your shoulders, seizing your frantic movements, and pressed his lips firmly to yours, kissing you in the process.

“…now that I finally have your attention, allow me to explain myself, will you?” he asked and waited for your nod before he continued “Look…I know I overreacted and to be honest, my behavior bothered me more than you think. I was just…j-just so afraid to lose you. Up until now everything Oha Asa said came true, s-so–”

Before he could finish his sentence, it was your turn to kiss him on the lips and use his moment of confusion to stop the train of negative thoughts that were about to overwhelm him. “I love you Shintarou…more than any horoscope could ever hope to calculate and sure, every time you listen to this show it all comes true, but did you forget that my sign is on that show as well?”

Your sudden question caught him a little of guard, but the moment you pulled something small out of your pocket he couldn’t help but smile to himself as a light blush spread across his cheeks.

“Unfortunately for you, today is my lucky day and your beloved presenter advised me to be more assertive than what I’m used to, and show my lover just how much he means to me.”

Aomine:

With quick steps, you neared the basketball club’s gym while frantically looking around for your boyfriend, who’d once again decided to ditch today’s training and laze around somewhere.

“Captain, we might have a problem!” you shouted out the moment you entered the building, ready to break the unpleasant news to the young man in glasses, who looked surprisingly relaxed, even though one of his best players was missing yet again. But before you could even say anything he simply put his hand up, motioning you to look behind him with his head, and there you saw the wanted man, crouched down while reading something.

With a heavy sigh, you joined Imayoshi and Wakamatsu, who was looking at the power forward with hopeless and annoyed expressions. After explaining to them that you couldn’t find him at his usual spots, you asked how they got him to join practice that quick.

“Oh you know…the usual” the blond said as he tapped a few times on his mobile phone, searching for something, and the moment he found it, he showed you the typical photo with which they always managed to catch Aomine: one of his favorite gravure magazines being held above a candle’s flame. You eyed the image a tad longer than what the men next to you were used to and then replied drily: “I see.”

The two players you were standing next to, were quite surprised by your reaction and couldn’t tear their eyes from your back as you walked towards the bench where their coach and manager were seated. They wanted to brush it off at first but the moment you had sat yourself down, your sad expression managed to guilt-trip them to such an extent that they immediately walked to the dark-skinned young man to lecture him.

“Aomine, you idiot, stop reading these things already!”

Said man didn’t even flinch at the sudden scream from the blond and continued looking through his magazine. Wakamatsu was already agitated enough and ready to throw punches at his sitting teammate, but the captain stopped him with an unobtrusive head-shake and took his chance not short after: “Ya see…your cute girlfriend’s over ‘ere and she looks mighty disappointed at the fact that ‘er boyfriend gives some random women more love ‘n attention than ya give ‘er. If ya keep that up, then who knows what could happen.”

It didn’t take much to annoy or upset your boyfriend and if you were as tactful as Imayoshi, you could do it whenever you felt like it, but this time he intended to make the man before him aware of what seemed to be a minor problem.

The two of them watched as Aomine finally closed his magazine and stood up, a terrifying glare fixated on the wall before him, and hissed out: “My relationship with (Y/N) has nothing to do with you, so don’t even butt your noses where they don’t belong.” He turned and just as he was about to leave and enter the practice match, he stood beside the man with glasses and stared at him with the same amount of bloodlust he had whenever he faced a strong opponent, and whispered: “Call her cute one more time and see what happens, captain”

——

What the hell is going on?

With a furious expression and gritted teeth, Aomine’s eyes followed your frantic movements in annoyance. He watched how you held Sakurai’s hands and whispered something to him to calm him down, how Wakamatsu ruffled your hair as thanks for bringing him a bottle of his favorite drink and a towel, and how Susa and Imayoshi patted your back while praising you. Today was the first time he actually noticed this, but now everything was making sense.

Since the beginning of this week, Momoi told him that she’d be away for two weeks and couldn’t manage the team in that timeframe. Her childhood friend wasn’t interested, so he didn’t ask any further details such as why she going away or who’d take her place for the time being, but now he wished he would’ve.

During her absence, he didn’t receive any of those dreadful SMS and for the first few days, he was living his life, skipping every single practice day. He did ask you a couple of times whether you wanted to ditch your class and come hang out with him, but he got rejected pretty quickly. Additionally, he rarely asked you out himself so the lack of messages from you wasn’t surprising to him, of course until he heard some of the substitute players comment something about how well you were doing your job as temporary manager.

“So that’s why you were so busy, huh?” he asked in his typical monotone voice the moment you had come back to the bench where he and the coach had taken place. Without sparing him even a single glance you took your clipboard and began explaining something to the older man. Seeing how you ignored him, paired with your cold attitude made Aomine involuntarily remember his captain’s words.

If ya keep that up, then who knows what could happen.

Your conversation with the coach was quickly wrapped up and not soon after just the two of you were left sitting on the bench. Your boyfriend’s deep blue eyes glanced briefly at you and observed how you were writing something in a small pink notebook that most likely belonged to Momoi. He never considered the fact that you would actually lose interest in him or perhaps even break up with him, but your recent behavior change matched exactly that and it scared him more than he let on.

The moment you finished writing and intended to pack everything up, a big hand took a gentle hold of your wrist. Slightly startled and taken aback you looked at the man beside you, who was covering his lower face area as he murmured something that only you managed to hear and understand.

Please don’t go…d-don’t leave me

A small smile slowly adorned your lips as you took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers, and squeezing it ever so slightly. You figured that the reason he was hiding his face was because of the blush that had painted his cheeks in a shade of dark red. An unusual but very welcome sight as well as a great reward for the plan the entire team had come up with alongside you. The goal? Teaching your lover a small lesson that he’s surely not forgetting that quick.

Mission accomplished…

Murasakibara:

“Hey Atsushi, my friend told me they’d be opening a new store in–“

“Mmm…I don’t wanna go (Y/N)-chin”

You were stunned at the sudden refusal of your boyfriend even before you’d finished your sentence and couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you looked at his slightly annoyed face.

Of course, he’d say that…

And with that prompt rejection, the conversation between you two died down and you wordlessly continued watching the movie you’d put on for tonight, while gently caressing the purple head of the large man who was using your thighs as a pillow.

——

“Eh? You rejected (Y/N)’s invitation again?” asked the black-haired young man while he handed his gigantic friend a tissue for his sticky fingers. With a slightly annoyed glare, Murasakibara snatched the handkerchief from him and hurriedly removed the honey residuals from the snacks he had finished a couple of minutes ago, before answering: “Of course I would…I’m not in the mood to go shopping for hours in this heat.”

The man’s laziness never failed to surprise Himuro everyone who has ever talked to him was aware of his quirks and despite it all, no one has ever left his side. The same goes for you as well. Since the first time you’d seen him, your heart already belonged to him. It was easier to pursue him than you’d expected since his team liked you very much and always helped you out by telling you about his schedule or when he’d come to practice. He was pretty cute once you got to know him better and unbeknownst to you, he had also fallen in love with everything about you. Your smile, the adorable way you tried to follow his basketball practice, the way you panicked when he told you that he didn’t like the type of candy you’d picked out, and everything else about you made his heart thump hard against his chest.

“You know Atsushi…if you keep your indifferent attitude up, your relationship might end pretty soon.”

“W-What do you mean…?”

With a perplexed expression on his face, Himuro took a glance at his friend who had panic written all over him, and reluctantly explained how you could feel neglected by him, or even think of leaving him because he seemingly doesn’t want to spend time with you. The purple-haired young man opened his mouth, wanting to protest but anything he said was immediately rebutted by his friend who told him that he was the wrong person to tell this to, and with that, Murasakibara sprinted out of the room. His destination: your home.

——

You were just out of the shower and preparing yourself to go to bed, when suddenly the doorbell starts ringing furiously, scaring you in the process. With a thumping heart and silent steps, you made your way to your door and took a glance at your peephole, needing less than a second to recognize just who had decided to spontaneously visit you this late at night.

“Atsushi, what are–”

“I’m sorry (Y/N)-chin, please don’t leave me! I-I promise I will go to that store reopening with you a-and to any other event you’d like, I’ll even do it without you having to buy me over with sweets, just–”

Thrown aback as you were, you took a tight hold of Murasakibara’s arms, squeezing them while you screamed at him to hold on and stop talking. Despite your reassuring words it took him a good while to calm down, so you made use of it and prepared some soft drinks, and put a couple of his favorite snacks in a rotating multi bowl set. After putting everything down on the small table in your living room, you got your boyfriend his favorite blanket, covering him with it, and finally sat down next to him.

“Now then, I’m almost afraid to ask you this, but…why are you pleading with me to not leave you?”

With his big and almost puppy-like eyes, he looked at you and asked with a slightly trembling voice: “S-So you really w-want to l-leave me?”

“Heavens no! Who even gave you that idea?”

The moment these few words left your lips, the tension finally left the young man’s body and he slumped back on your couch with a relieved sigh, whispering a silent thank god before massaging his closed eyes. You had never seen your lover being as worried as tonight and you figured that whatever has been bothering him must’ve been quite serious, and that made you in fact even more curious than before. Despite that, you figured you’d wait for him to start his explanation, or at least that was what you’d planned, but after a couple of minutes of nothing but silence, you decided to speak up and reassure him first.

“I’m not quite sure what happened, but it seems like you’re feeling bad for refusing my invite from some days ago, and well…I was kinda disappointed about not being able to go with you there, but I’ve known you for so long now and truth be told, I was prepared for such an answer so I’m not pissed off or anything, you know? You’re just the type of person to prefer staying indoors while lazing around…that’s just how you are and how I love you, so…”

You got embarrassed after a while and the young man’s missing reactions didn’t make it any better, so you eventually stopped mid-sentence and called out to him.

Silence.

“Atsushi…?”

You put your hand on his shoulder and gently shook him, causing his arm with which he was covering his eyes to fall to the side, revealing his slightly puffy eyes and sleeping face.

D-Did he…fall asleep…?

Who would’ve thought that your reassurance alone would have such an impact on him and cause him to fall asleep?

You giggled to yourself and gently caressed some strands of his hair away from his face, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek as you silently wished him a pleasant nap. A few seconds passed during which you contemplated whether you should go to your room or snuggle up to him, you picked the latter and as carefully as possible, leaned your head on his shoulder, closed your eyes, and missed the small smile that adorned Murasakibara’s lips.

Akashi:

Akashi usually isn’t one to get jealous of other people, since he is quite confident that there is no one better suited for you but him. And yet whenever he sees how you talk to Mayuzumi he can’t help but feel a tight pain in his chest and notice how his mood instantly drops. He’d immediately turn away from the sight of the two of you and go somewhere else, preferably the gym where he can either let his frustrations out on the ball or on some of the unmotivated basketball club members. When you were close to him during one of his bad days he was prone to behaving rather rude and harsh and even though he regrets it seconds after opening his mouth he just can’t stop himself. One day though, he truly lost it.

Everything was seemingly going well and then he saw both Mayuzumi and you come in the gym together, hand in hand, laughing, and worst of it all: you were blushing. The red-haired young man watched how his upperclassman helped you sit down on the bench and the way you two looked at each other made the captain feel sick. That’s when a certain thought entered his mind.

What if (Y/N) is planning on breaking up with me for….

While you laughed alongside the older member of the basketball club, you noticed out of the corner of your eyes the way Akashi approached you two and immediately sprung up to calm him down. “S-Sei, please calm yourself down!” you pleaded as you held onto his wrists, but no matter what you said he wasn’t listening, he only had eyes for the man behind you.

Out of desperation you wrapped your arms around the slightly trembling body of your boyfriend and began whispering how nothing was going on between the two of you, how Mayuzumi had only helped you reach the gym since you had sprained your ankle on the way, and how he had teased you for loving the captain too much. As if released from some sort of spell, the young man came back to his senses and returned your embrace in slight confusion. While you were quick to forgive and forget the sudden snap of your boyfriend, the grey-haired man behind you wasn’t in the mood to just forget how the first-year would’ve stabbed him with a ballpen if it weren’t for you. Luckily the other main team members came to calm their teammate down, while you excused yourself, took Akashi by the hand, and went out for a walk to help him calm down.

——

Holding tightly onto your boyfriend’s hand you dragged him off to a more remote area where you could properly talk to each other and resolve any type of doubts that seemed to sprout inside of his already restless mind as a sudden and unexpected whisper caught you off guard. You halted mid-step, turning to the young man behind you, and asked him to repeat what he’d just said.

After a short moment of reluctance, he nodded and did as asked. “I’m sorry for losing myself back there.” His sudden apology caught you quite off guard and made you forget your initial plan. The Akashi you knew rarely showed such enormous remorse for his actions, he might have finally found inner peace with himself and his insecurities, but that didn’t mean that he was now a completely changed man who’d thrown his entire pride away. Not being able to hold back your curiosity, you asked why he felt the need to apologize.

“The way I was ready to lash out at someone older than me, in the same way, I did with Kagami back then was uncalled for…not only that but your expression,” he paused, softly caressing your cheek and continued with a silent voice “that fearful expression you had when you saw me…I-I don’t want to see it ever again.”

Now I get it…

A sad smile adorned your lips as you squeezed his hand tighter. You were secretly thankful for his small outburst right now because it showed you not only that he indeed loved you as much as he usually told you, but also that despite his perfectionism he was very much flawed. He was afraid of losing you and equally afraid of you hating him for expressing these worries. Without saying anything you wrapped your arms around him in a hug and held him tightly as soon as he’d returned your embrace.

“Seijuro…please don’t try to tackle every worry you have on your own. That’s why we are a couple, right? Anything that bothers you, no matter how trivial or serious it is, please share it with me instead of tackling that burden on your own, ok..?”

His sharp yet beautiful eyes looked directly into your own before he leaned his forehead on your shoulder and murmured: “I know, it’s just…I’m still not used to having someone so dependable as you by my side, offering me so much support that I don’t know what to do with it.”

You giggled at his statement and kissed his head, thankful that you had more or less resolved one part of his issues, but more than anything you were happy that from now on he’d involve you more in his worries and problems.

Takao:

Everyone from Shuutoku warned you multiple times that being lovers with Takao would cause you to have severe trust issues and you didn’t believe them at first, but after a couple of weeks, you finally understood their warnings. The lively young man was surprisingly a jokester and tended to take certain things not serious enough for your preference, but since it was a part of his personality, that you’d fallen in love with, you decided to overlook it for the majority of the time.

Usually, his jokes were kinda misplaced and sometimes even more sympathy-inducing than fun, but they never failed to make you crack even the smallest of smiles. But lately, though his jokes started focusing on love and were constantly dealing with the topic of breakup or cheating and it made you quite anxious and hurt that he took these two so lightly without considering your feelings.

Day after day you put up with them until you just couldn’t take it anymore and interrupted him, saying that he should just stop talking for a moment. You were so agitated that you failed to notice his taken aback expression.

“Hey (Y/N)-chan, you do know that I’m just joking, right? There’s no need for you to take it seriously!”

There he goes again with the same excuse…

The young man attempted to take your hand in his, an usual gesture he made every time he upset you, but right now this was the last thing you needed. When his slender fingers brushed yours, you slapped his hand away.

“Not this time Kazu-chan…I’m sorry” you whispered and hurried off, leaving your boyfriend behind who was blown away by your reaction.

——

A few days passed since your little outburst and you’d been avoiding Takao ever since, afraid of being confronted with what you’d told him. You felt bad of course for treating him like that, but you were just not ready to talk to him yet and needed some time to come to terms with your thoughts first.

“What’s with you two always gluing yourselves on me whenever you have some kind of problem?” asked the green-haired young man who you’d forced to stay by your side since then. You responded with a giggle and told him that thanks to his confident behavior and direct words you felt placid and could sort your thoughts in peace. He simply sighed and looked at his lucky item for today, a silver ring with a small green jewel, which he’d once again gotten from his captain, who told him that it was yet another merch of his favorite idol.

“You shouldn’t avoid Takao so much. We both know that he makes jokes to hide away his insecurities and weaknesses and what do you think might happen if he sees us right now?”

He’s…right

You bit your lower lip and slumped forward, leaning your elbows on your thighs as you nodded a couple of times. Nothing good would come out of you brooding over this on your own and having Midorima with you wouldn’t make your little “fight” with Takao just disappear. Seeing you so lost in thought, the young man behind you had an idea, one that he didn’t entirely like, but right now all he wanted was to make you feel better, so he swallowed his pride and handed you the ring.

“Take it…i-it’s not like I’m giving it to you forever s-since it’s not mine and all…b-but Oha Asa said t-that Scorpio might need some k-kind of symbol o-of…love so” he stuttered as he held out his hand, the fragile ring between his bandaged fingers. You were at a loss for words at his gesture and all you could do was whisper out his name in surprise.

“Shin-chan! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Suddenly someone took a hold of your slightly outstretched arm and tugged on it, causing you to stand up and fall against their chest. You looked at the face of the person and it was none other than Takao who was glaring at his friend through glassy eyes. As if bitten by a bug Midorima jumped up and began protecting himself, but all you could focus on was the man who had his arms wrapped tightly around your body. While the two men insulted each other and bickered you realized just how stupid this entire situation was and couldn’t help but smile.

You placed your hand on your boyfriend’s cheek and turned his head, so that he was now facing you, and kissed him, shutting both of them up almost instantly. It took the young man a shot while to return your kiss, but when he did he also took the opportunity to properly embrace you.

“I’m sorry for overreacting Kazu-chan, it’s just that I-”

“No, don’t apologize (Y/N), I know I went too far this time. You know I love you more than anything else in this world and that I’ll never think about leaving you.”

The smile that adorned your lips widened as you nodded energetically and reassured him that your love for him is also one that will most likely last forever.

While you two made up, smiling at each other, the green-haired young man looked at the ring and grinned to himself.

I knew it…Oha Asa is never wrong

#knb imagines #knb scenarios #knb fluff #knb angst #knb x reader #gom and takao x reader #gom x reader #takao x reader #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Imagine if Meng Shi begged and bargained and collected favors till she was able to send her A-Yao to education with the Lan Sect, perhaps even become a cultivator with them. Would he take that change? Would he become a rogue cultivator? Would the strict rules help curb his inner muderimpuls or enrage him or teach him to hide better?

A Good Fit - ao3

“The…Lan sect?” Meng Yao said doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

“I am sure,” his mother said, her mouth tight. She looked upset, the way she always did these days when he referenced, intentionally or otherwise, the original plan that she had had to send him to join his father, sect leader of Lanling Jin. She’d raised Meng Yao on a steady diet of stories of what his life would be like when his father finally took him back the way he’d promised her he would, stories that had filled his days and nights for years and years and years, and then just last year she’d suddenly stopped talking about it entirely. It was as if the person who’d told those stories had nothing to do with her.

Meng Yao didn’t know what had happened, but he assumed it must have been pretty bad.

“It'll be a good fit,” she added.

“Then I’ll go to the Lan sect,” he said, and pretended not see the way his mother relaxed a little, relieved that he wasn’t asking too many questions. “I’ve heard they are gentlemen there, righteous but gentle; it will be the best match for my personality, I’m sure.”

A lie, of course. ‘Gentlemen’ were just as likely to come to the brothel as brutes, and they were all the same once they had a cup of wine and a beauty in their arms – Meng Yao tried not to have any illusions.

“Can we afford it?” he asked instead, since that was something he was sure his mother would have thought of, would have expected him to ask. “Gusu is so far away…”

“I have obtained a letter from the local sect recommending you to their sect leader, Lan Qiren,” she said. “He’s the one that teaches the classes – the one that sent out the summons asking the subsidiary sects to look for individuals with raw talent to join his classes and offering them an extra seat for their sects for each nameless orphan they find that lives up to Lan sect standards. Only the Heavens know why he’s doing something like that…I assume they’re trying to expand.”

That seemed like the most reasonable explanation. Meng Yao nodded. “So I’ll be traveling with the local sect?”

“That’s right,” his mother said, and raised her chin a little. “At least this much, your mother was able to do for you.”

She’d begged and bargained and traded favors for it, then, Meng Yao thought, and yet taking him along was to their own benefit: if they were looking for inherited cultivation talent sufficient for the Lan sect, then the bastard son of another Great Sect leader would be a better bet than some random nobody. She’d probably humiliated herself for nothing.

“Will you come with me?” he asked, more concerned with that – it was too easy for women of ill repute to disappear into the depths of the city if they didn’t have someone to watch out for them.

Even someone as young as he was. He wished he was older.

“You can come back to visit me during the Spring Festival,” she said, which meant no. “I’ll be all right, A-Yao.”

Meng Yao wasn’t so sure.

Still, not having him around would at least remove a visible reminder of his mother’s age – she’d been kicked out of the better brothels because of him, because no one wanted a woman who was a mother. Leaving would at least do that for her.

“I’ll write,” he finally said. “I’ll write as often as they let me.”

“And I’ll write back,” she promised him, kissing his cheek. “I promise.”

With that, Meng Yao supposed he had to be satisfied.

The Lan sect was both exactly like what Meng Yao expected and absolutely nothing at all like anything he could have dreamt.

For the first, his cynicism was almost immediately confirmed: the boys raised there were snobby as anything, looking down at the rest of them as little better than barbarians, and many of the adults were the same way. It was clear that this whole business of recruiting talented nobodies was a project of the sect leader’s – the interim sect leader, no less, not even the real thing – and nobody else’s; they were only just barely going along with it. Adding to that the fact that there were dozens if not hundreds of rules, and Meng Yao could glumly foresee a future of having his lack of knowledge held over his head as a fault, even with his marvelous memory to act as his backing.

For the second…

Well, there was Lan Xichen, who was – as unbelievable as it seemed – to actually embody all those things that people said about gentlemen, all kindness and gentleness and fierce upright pride, except only for real. There was Lan Wangji, who was basically perfect in every way and kinder than he gave the impression he was, willing to help tutor anyone who asked if only they dared disturb his solitude long enough to do so. There was the boy Meng Yao shared a room with, Su She, who’d punched the boy from the Yunping cultivator clan in the mouth for calling Meng Yao a son of a whore and pretended it was because they weren’t allowed to talk about that sort of thing, when actually it’d been because he hadn’t wanted rumors to get around that might make Meng Yao’s life harder in the future.

There was Lan Qiren, who was strict and a little boring but fair, painfully fair, handing out punishments with an equitable hand no matter that it meant that he was punishing the locals as often if not more often. It’d been his idea to bring people like Meng Yao into the Lan sect, and defending the idea was the only time he truly seemed moved to passion. Now that they’d passed the initial examination and been judged to match Lan sect standards, Lan Qiren announced, as far as he was concerned, they were Lan sect just as if they were born there, as if they’d been children of his own.

And he even seemed to really believe it, too.

Today, Meng Yao’s head was still warm from when the stern Teacher Lan had put his hand there, gentle and approving, and his ears still burning from the murmured “Well done, Meng Yao, as expected.”

“I think I would kill someone for him,” Meng Yao said dreamily to Su She, who snorted.

“You’ve got such father issues,” he said disdainfully, as if he didn’t have entire family issues. That was just Su She’s way, though – he bitched and moaned and complained without end, and he’d probably kill someone for Meng Yao if Meng Yao so much as hinted it was something he’d want. They’d made friends for a reason. “You know the bit about the poor kids being his own children is a lie, right?”

“I know which sect’s leader is my father, thanks,” Meng Yao said, rolling his eyes. “I’m well aware it’s not Teacher Lan. Like he’d ever have kids of his own, anyway.”

“That’d require noticing when someone’s flirting with him,” Su She agreed, all solemn for just a moment, and then he dissolved into sniggering giggles. Meng Yao couldn’t blame him: it was, in fact, extremely funny when women (and sometimes men) tried to flirt with Teacher Lan, mostly because of the way that he very genuinely and completely missed that that was what was happening each and every time.

“Laugh all you like,” Meng Yao said peaceably. “You’d kill for him, too.”

“Probably,” Su She agreed. “But only because of you.”

That was fair enough. After getting the lay of the land, Meng Yao had arranged for them to ‘accidentally’ be overheard by Teacher Lan while talking about the misconduct of one of the teachers who was the most biased against guest disciples, one of the ones that had been harassing Su She in particular for over a year before Meng Yao had arrived, and despite Su She’s initial nervousness about the plan, it had all gone splendidly. Sure, they’d been punished to do five copies of a treatise on upright conduct because they’d breached Talking behind the backs of others is prohibited, but the teacher in question had been sentenced to two hundred strikes with the discipline rod for abusing his position and three months of enforced seclusion to contemplate his misbehavior, and then, Teacher Lan had said, his expression dark and threatening, they could discuss what role would be the best fit in the future.

The other teachers had taken notice and shaped up very quickly, after that.

Comparatively, those five copies made in the nice cool Library Pavilion instead of having to do chores on the hottest days of summer? Practically a pat on the back for bringing it to his attention.

Su She would never have dared to raise anything if it was just him, Meng Yao thought; he had a strange fear of authority figures that combined envy and misery in an explosive combination – he would have just suffered and suffered and suffered until he’d been pushed too far and then it would have all burst out at once. He wasn’t like Meng Yao, who was unwilling to keep to his “proper” place and was more than willing to use his greater-than-average share of brains to get what he wanted, no matter what rules he broke in the process. He was the sort of person who was willing to do whatever it took to obtain his desires – no matter what it took.

Well, maybe not no matter what. He wouldn’t want to disappoint Lan Qiren too much.

(Okay, so maybe Su She was right and he had some unresolved father issues. So what if he did? Whose business was it but his?)

It’d taken Meng Yao a while to fully adjust to the Cloud Recesses.

Some parts he’d figured out right away – the way they all flattered themselves as gentlemen even if they were actually little more than hypocrites (Teacher Lan and his personally taught nephews exempted, of course), which of course meant that Meng Yao’s ability to act pitiful at the drop of a hat and cleverly turn black into white made him a teacher’s pet at once. The vegetarian meals were easy enough to adapt to, given that his mother hadn’t had the money for meat all that often, and the training and cultivation and all that wasn’t any challenge for his excellent powers of retention – he had ambitions of becoming one of Teacher Lan’s aides one day, and worked assiduously towards that goal. Even waking and sleeping early, which was practically the opposite of his schedule at home, was something he could adjust to, given time and incentive.

It was his mentality that took some time to adjust.

Meng Yao had perhaps grown up with too many of his mother’s stories, painting an image of a matchless paradise – at the start, he looked at everything around him, serene and elegant but not quite as rich and shining and thought that it would do, for now. When he’d first arrived, he had had every intention of making a good reputation for himself and using that reputation to get his real father’s attention – he’d liked Teacher Lan from the beginning, despite his best attempts to not let his heart be swayed, but he’d reasoned that if a teacher was like this, then a blood-related father would be even better.

And so, for the first half-year, he’d treated his time at the Cloud Recesses…not lightly, no. He was extremely serious about making sure to get the maximum benefit he could. And yet, at the same time, he still was not really committing himself to the place.

This wasn’t where he was going to live his whole life, he reasoned; it was just a stepping stone to a better future. That meant he would exert himself to point out things that made him look good, to eliminate obstacles in his path, to win himself allies, but not bother with those longer-term problems, the ones that really ought to be fixed but which would take a great deal of effort with little reward other than annoying people.

His feeling of superiority and emotional distance lasted right up until the first discussion conference.

From a distance, Jin Guangshan was everything Meng Yao could have imagined – perhaps a little too similar to the clients that his mother often saw, a little dissolute to pull off the air of a refined scholar he affected, but wearing more gold than Meng Yao had ever seen in his life, with a retinue of servants that dwarfed the other sect’s. Each of those servants were dressed more finely than even main clan cultivators in some of the smaller sects, and though Meng Yao’s Lan sect guest disciple clothing was of such quality that he didn’t need to fear their disdain, he couldn’t help but be secretly impressed.

He'd exerted himself more than usual to trade away all of his chores and duties, freeing himself up to take on patrol duty near the Jin sect. He’d perhaps daydreamed about some sort of encounter – nothing active on his part, of course, but he couldn’t quite resist playing through some fantasy of catching someone’s eye by chance, getting called over, a “You have a familiar set to your chin, who’s your father?”, a shy halting admission, recognition, a joyous reunion…

Instead, his father spent the entire night getting drunk and cursing the Lan sect’s hospitality for not providing him with girls to go with his liquor, calling Lan Qiren a miserable prude with a stick up his ass right in front of the Lan sect disciples that clenched their fists in barely concealed rage. He’d seen Meng Yao all right, ordered him to come forward, but it’d only been to mock him in front of all of his servants – and not even for being his bastard son, no, that would involve bothering to pick him out from the crowd or to ask who he was. No, he’d mocked him simply for being one of the poor disciples that Lan Qiren had taken in, all because his accent was marked with the distinct tones of Yunping rather than the sweetness of Gusu.

“Tell me, boy,” he said, breathing fumes into Meng Yao’s face and making him feel suddenly as if he’d never left the brothel – that the Cloud Recesses had all been a vague dream, and now he’d woken up and lost it all. “How does that old fart Qiren expect you to pay him back for all he’s done for you? I heard the Lan sect includes a pretty face as one of its standard requirements…”

Meng Yao put his gaze above his father’s head and pretended to be deaf.

“It seems like rather a lot of effort,” one of his father’s attendants remarked. “Even if Second Master Lan wanted a boy to warm his bed, couldn’t he just buy one like any normal person?”

“Bah, boys,” his father said, and leaned back, waving his hands in dismissal. “Why would anyone bother with a boy when you could have a soft woman instead? Just as long as they’re stupid enough – you know, there’s nothing worse than a woman who’s talented and knows it, too smart, always trying to get above their station…”

“You’re thinking about that whore in Yunping again, aren’t you? The one that interrupted your dinner and made a scene, claiming you’d promised to take in the son she bore you?” the attendant said, laughing. “I told you, you should’ve just killed her for her impudence rather than just having her beaten and thrown out. That way the matter wouldn’t still be bothering you…”

“Go away, boy,” another servant said to Meng Yao, who was frozen stiff in belated terror, nausea churning in his stomach as he realized his mother could’ve gone out one day and never come back, and he would never have known why – or maybe it was that he’d been spending his considerable time and brain on pleasing someone who would have done that, who nearly had done that. “Your accent’s brought back bad memories, don’t you see?”

Meng Yao left.

No, to be more blunt: he fled. He ran away, hot tears filling his eyes until he couldn’t see – belly full of regret and disappointment, crushed dreams feeling like broken shards of glass in his mouth and throat.

He tried to tell himself that it was better to find out now, when they were still distant, before he'd sold his soul for the futile chance to get that horrible man's affection, but he couldn't quite throw off the shame of knowing that if he hadn't heard such a thing up front, he probably would have done that. Would have humiliated himself like that, and for what? A man who regretted not murdering his mother?

He ran right into Lan Wangji, who was also on patrol.

Lan Wangji took one look at him and grabbed his wrist, dragging him away from the main pathway and all the way to his uncle’s rooms.

Lan Qiren was still awake despite the late hour, writing something at his desk, but he set aside his brush at once. “What’s going on?” he asked, frowning. “Wangji – Meng Yao – one of you report.”

“Meng Yao was on patrol by the Jin sect,” Lan Wangji explained as Meng Yao furiously tried to dash away his tears using his sleeve.

“Who permitted that? First year disciples aren’t permitted to patrol during discussion conferences,” Lan Qiren asked, his frown deepening. “It wouldn’t be proper – ah, but no, I recall now. I suppose it was inevitable. Wangji, well done, and thank you. You are dismissed.”

After Lan Wangji left, he turned his eyes on Meng Yao.

“You volunteered, didn’t you?” he asked.

Meng Yao felt his back go cold: Lan Qiren knew, then. It had never been said out loud by anyone as far as he knew, and yet it was clear that Lan Qiren knew who his father was – and probably his mother, too.

He knew that Meng Yao was – that he wasn’t anything more than –

“You are one of my most promising disciples, Meng Yao,” Lan Qiren told him, and poured him a cup of tea from his own pot, pressing it into his hands. It was finer tea than Meng Yao had ever had in his life, full of smoke and flavor. “The rules say Be loyal and filial, but they also praise reciprocity. You have not been recognized, and have not received your forefathers’ grace. You can fulfill your obligations to chivalry through your respect for the parent that raised you.”

Meng Yao stared down at the teacup. Lan Qiren had completely misunderstood the nature of Meng Yao’s concern – he was disappointed in what his father was, not worried about not living up to his obligations of being a filial child. And yet it was a little nice to hear that as far as Lan Qiren was concerned, the rules said that he could tell his father go hang for all he cared…

And that he ought to honor his mother, which was something no one who knew her had ever said to him.

“Even if she –” His voice stuttered. “Even if she’s a…”

He couldn’t say the word.

“Appreciate the good people is not qualified by class or profession,” Lan Qiren said, and his monotone voice was blissfully without emotion, as if this were just another lesson in class, and not the deepest hurt of Meng Yao’s life. “I have never met your mother, Meng Yao, but you are a good child – diligent, organized, sincere, with good judgment, and you clearly adore her. That tells me everything I need to know.”

Meng Yao burst into tears.

Meng Yao liked Lan Xichen a lot, but he also had to admit that sometimes, the older boy was, well…

“Dumb as a pile of rocks,” Su She announced.

“Do not criticize other people,” Meng Yao said piously, but then chuckled, shaking his head. “Say, rather, that he’s naïve and sheltered, and overly inclined to believe the best in people.”

“Like I said: dumb as rocks. How many times is going to get himself swindled into being someone’s sword or shield before he figures out that the problem is him?”

“Some people don’t have the capacity to understand the depths of humanity’s foulness –”

“Yeah, dumb ones.”

“Su She, please.” Su She held up his hands in surrendered. “At any rate, if Lan-gongzi is going to keep falling for people’s tricks, it’s beholden on us to help protect him.”

“You just don’t want Teacher Lan to be sad about something serious happening to his nephew,” Su She said knowingly, but he was already nodding. “All right, what are we going to do about it? He outranks us. We can’t exactly tell him to his face that he’s being…”

He paused.

Dumb as rocks went unsaid, but then, it didn’t need to be said out loud for the meaning to be clear.

Meng Yao sighed.

“You can only trick someone so many times,” he said. “If we want to keep him from getting tricked by other people, then we have to trick him first. And better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lan-gongzi likes to save people,” Meng Yao explained. “He really sees himself as a chivalrous gentleman – he puts chivalry first, even though Teacher Lan says Learning comes first. That’s why he always sides with whoever he perceives to be the underdog in a given situation, no matter how wrong that impression is. That’s how most of the people who’ve been tricking him have gone for it: playing the victim, appealing to his sense of righteousness, pulling the curtains over his eyes to obscure what’s actually happening.”

“Okay. So?”

“So, we’ve both got miserable backstories – you being taken from your family at a young age and then bullied, me with my mother and, even worse, father. If we get him on our side, early on, he’ll side with us over anyone else – that way we can keep him from getting roped into other people’s private grudges.”

Su She frowned. “That seems a little manipulative.”

“It’s for his own good, and that’s what’s important,” Meng Yao said, and smiled faintly. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lan-er-gongzi?”

Su She jumped, turning around just in time to see Lan Wangji, who had been standing in the shadow of a nearby tree, step out.

He had a serious expression, as always, but a thoughtful one.

Meng Yao waited patiently.

“You cannot take advantage,” Lan Wangji finally said, and Meng Yao knew he’d won the most important ally in the battle to save Lan Xichen from himself. “That would change it from a virtuous act to a selfish one.”

“Like we need anything from him,” Su She said haughtily. “Maintain your own discipline.”

“Arrogance is forbidden.”

“It’s not arrogance if it’s justified! It’s just self-confidence!”

“Do not argue with family,” Meng Yao quoted, and was pleased to see both of them drop it at once. “Listen, we all share the same goal, and we have to start somewhere, don’t we? We’re stronger together than apart. Together, we can do anything, even protect Lan-gongzi.”

That and more, he thought as the other boys nodded, following his lead. Lan Xichen is just the start.

“The Wen sect will make trouble sooner rather than later,” Meng Yao said thoughtfully, one day. His friends turned to look at him. “Yes, I’m serious.”

Lan Wangji nodded, serious as always, but Su She scoffed.

“You can’t even convince that Wei Wuxian boy to leave poor Lan-er-gongzi alone,” he said snidely. “How exactly are you expecting to bring down the Wen sect?”

“I don’t convince Wei Wuxian to leave Lan-er-gongzi alone because Lan-er-gongzi doesn’t want to be left alone,” Meng Yao said. “Obviously. Isn’t that right?”

“You should call me by name,” Lan Wangji said, which wasn’t answering the question and definitely wasn’t denying anything. “You were saying, about the Wen sect?”

Meng Yao smiled.

“What brings one of Teacher Lan’s most promising disciples to the Unclean Realm?” Nie Mingjue said, peering at him thoughtfully. “You’re at the wrong time to be one of the usual messengers.”

Meng Yao smiled at him.

“I think you’ll find that we have similar goals, Sect Leader Nie,” he said. “When it comes to making sure that certain people in our lives don’t get hurt by the bad decisions of others, I mean. In your case, it’s your younger brother, who’s a friend of mine –”

Friend, source of information, it was all about the same thing in the end. Meng Yao didn’t have real friends outside the Lan sect, but he’d been very careful to cultivate good relationships with all his most important peers.

“- and for me, well. A teacher for day, a father for a lifetime. I’m sure Sect Leader Nie can understand the importance of protecting one’s father – right?”

“You don’t need to use any sophistry on me,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes. “If you have an idea on what we can do to stop the Wen sect before they go and burn someone’s house down, I’m all ears.”

By chance, Meng Yao did.

It was a good plan, too, daring and brave in equal measure. If it worked the way he hoped it would, he’d win enough fame to get Jin Guangshan to beg for him to join the Jin sect – not that he would, of course.

Meng Yao knew what he wanted, and he knew how he was going to get it, too.

“This is a lovely house, A-Yao,” Meng Shi said, running her hand along one of the soft tapestries on the wall. “Truly lovely. Whoever you rented it from has good taste.”

Meng Yao bowed. “Thank you for the compliment, Mother. I put a lot of thought into it.”

“You own it?” she asked, surprised. “But don’t you live up the mountain, with the sect?”

“I do. This is for you.”

“For – me? A-Yao! This is too much – how much must it have cost–”

“I saved the Lan sect’s core texts from being destroyed,” Meng Yao said. “I’m an inner sect disciple now – I could ask for a dozen houses like this, and they’d grant them to me without blinking twice. Teacher Lan would insist on it.”

“Teacher Lan,” his mother murmured. “That’s the one you’ve taken to treating as your own father, isn’t it? You’ve spoken so much of him, in your letters…”

“There’s no need to scheme,” he told her. “He wouldn’t notice your flirtations, anyway.”

His mother arched her eyebrows at him.

“He’s really oblivious.”

“Still…”

“Really no need,” Meng Yao said, and couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Lan Qiren pulling him into a hug when he realized that the books – and Lan Xichen – were all safe from the Wen sect’s attempt to burn down the Cloud Recesses, and, later, again, that Wen Ruohan was dead. He may have deliberately schemed for that second hug, and he might or might not have plans for more. “He already takes me as a son.”

His mother relaxed.

“Good,” she said, and smiled herself. “So, A-Yao, was I right, all those years ago? Was the Lan sect a good fit for you?”

“Yes, Mother,” Meng Yao said. “Yes, it was.”

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #lan qiren #su she #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #a good fit

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manias-wordcount · 3 years

Note

Mmmm, giiiiiirl, i loooove the way you write for link aaaah. The fic abt the house keeper? Rejuvenated my s o u l. Anywhosies, I was wondering if I could request a Link x Reader fic where she and him have been travel partners and friends for a while and she is patching him up. The reader would be more on the sassier side and v quick witted but as she is tending Link's wounds she is quiet because he did something stupid and got himself hurt. And imagine with me if you will, it's the first time Link sees the reader cry. The fluff angst romance bro,,,,,,think abt it. Thank you in advance ♡

You Over Me (Any! Link x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗮 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵! 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗵! :] 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀, 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗮 𝗴𝗼! 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴!

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳 (𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗱) 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝗷𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

“Idiot!”

Tighter.

“Idiot!”

Tighter.

“IDIOT!”

Tightest.

This time, Link let out a hiss. The sound was quiet, and you almost didn’t hear it at first. But despite the volume, it perfectly portrayed the pain he must have felt. Though, you couldn’t tell if it’s from the way you wrapped his gauze, your sudden rise in volume, or your purposely rough cleaning of his latest stomach stab wound. Not that you cared. He deserved this for what he put you through.

You’ve known the blonde all your life. Ever since the moment the two of you met, you’ve stuck to each other’s side like glue. Wherever he went, you went. In your early childhood, you were rarely seen without him. And he was rarely seen without you. What he lacked with his respectful, quiet, good boy personality- you made up for with your fiery and tough attitude. Together, the two of you made up for each other’s shortcomings. The perfect pair, the dynamic duo. You and Link.

Forever.

Then a crisis came. Death and destruction riddled the land as monsters lurked behind every corner. Innocent lives were in danger, and the side of light needed someone to protect those who were good and pure. The world had a last hope. And that last hope just so happened to be your very own Link. Even though he was still so young and only one boy, no one could argue with fate. He had a job to do, and nothing could stop him from doing what’s right. Not even countless nights of fighting, begging, tears, and shared fears. No matter what angle you looked at it, there was no way out of this. No matter how badly he still wanted to be a kid. No matter how badly he still wanted to be with you. But that wasn’t his decision to make. Neither was it yours.

So naturally, when the world needed a hero for all of Hyrule, they got your Link. And your Link got you. Because even a hero needed someone to save them too.

Suddenly, your life went from laying in the sun and ignoring chores to fighting for your life against forces you would only dream about in your nightmares. You went from brandishing dull wooden swords and pretending to be knights to always keeping a bow on your back, a hand on your knife, and a sword attached to your hip. And no matter how much you’d complain about having no food to eat and no bed to sleep on, you know you wouldn’t have changed your answer the day he asked you if you would join him. There was no way you could send him off to fight this battle alone. Because you know you would look up at the stars the two of you would sleep under every night and wonder if he was just as scared and alone as you were.

If he was even alive at that point.

That’s why every fight is a moment of anxiety that threatens to destroy you from the inside, out. Link means everything to you. He is your everything, and you’d do absolutely annoying things to keep him alive. But he’s the picture-perfect idea of a hero. The very thing he was scared he could never live up to is the same behavior he was able to fall into naturally. He’s courageous and always willing to take a stand. He’s kind in the sense that he looks out for the little guy- the ones who aren’t always able to help themselves. And he’s more than willing to sacrifice his life for the sake of another.

A good habit for a hero. A bad habit for the fated hero and Hyrule’s last hope.

“Honestly, I just don’t get how you manage to injure yourself again and again.” You find yourself exclaiming hotly as you tie the two ends of the gauze surrounding his torso together before shooting him a glare. “People give medals to those who come back from war, you know.”

The way he playful huffs at your concern is dismissive enough to make you groan aloud and flick his forehead. Though you can’t find it in you respond back as he drops his tunic from where he was holding it out of your way and sticks his tongue out at you. Instead, you hold out your hand, and he presents you with one of his, covered by a long, jagged slice down his forearm that just oozes blood.

You had seen him get hurt thousands upon thousands of times. You were the one and only witness to the moments when he refused to be pushed around. But you were also there for the moments when it seemed like he was never going to get back up again. Each time, you were his nurse. The one who cared the most about his safety when it seemed like he never did. But this time- this time hurt.

During the fight, you had heard the grunt of pain he let out when the monster aimed for his throat. He easily blocked with his hand, but at the cost of directing the knife into the one blind spot on his leather his arm guards: the point where they were tied together. You made quick work of your own foe before you were able to spare a glance in his direction. A peek just long enough to see if he was in mortal danger. What you saw was terrifying and yet so cruelly familiar. Link, lying on his back and fighting with all his strength to keep the monster’s knife from plunging further into his stomach.

With all its attention on Link, tackling the monster was easy. You were able to catch it off guard, knock away its weapon, and make a quick and easy kill. After that, there were only a few more monsters left to handle. Luckily, you were able to use their lack of coordination against them to win your fights. Above all things, you had to be quick. Link needed you right now.

But with the immediate danger gone and the adrenaline starting to die now, you were able to start focusing more clearly. You turned your head to face your best friend. He was already trying to prop himself up by leaning back on his arms just to look back at you. His left arm was the one that took the hit- you could tell by the way he gingerly avoided putting his weight on that arm. The left side of his torso was the side that was stabbed. There was no doubt in your mind that it was. The dark stain on his green tunic that seemed to grow larger and larger by the second told you all that you needed to know. And so did that sheepish, apologetic smile on his face.

He had taken another hit for you.

Again.

“You’re so reckless. And stupid.” You say as you remove the broken arm guard and begin to clean his wound. You’re angry. You’re just so upset that your chest feels heavy, and a lump gathers in your throat. And while your eyes start to water and water, you keep on scolding him because he just never realizes. When will he realize? “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother. I should just leave you behind wasting our medical supplies like this. All you do… All you do is throw your stupid life away!”

He gives you a shrug before the movement suddenly jerks into a pained wince. The old you would have laughed at him some more. The old you would have called him funny names while he’d shoot you a stink eye and tackle you down the hill. But that was the time where you both were just kids. When the worst injuries came from falling off of trees and scraping knees while racing home. That was what the old you would have done. The child you used to be.

Now, everything is so much more real. The consequences are no longer cool scars that you can show the rest of the village children. It’s life or death now. A life you could easily lose if you’re not careful. You knew that from the beginning. It’s the very reason why you choose to travel with him. So he never had to face a battle alone. So he’d never feel helplessly in pain. So there was always someone who had his back. But that required him to take care of himself too. To not view his life as worthless because he’s all the world has left. Because he’s all you have left. The world needs him, not you. And you knew that. So why...

Why…

“You’re just- you’re just so stupid!” You couldn’t hide the sob in your voice as you wrap his arm in gauze. Nor could you hide the giant tears that rolled off your cheeks like waves you used to make in the pond at home. All you could do was keep your head pointed towards the ground and avoid his gaze and hope he didn’t realize. But this was your Link that you were talking about. He knows you. He knows everything about you. He knows when you’re happy and when you’re hungry or sad. When you’re confused and when you’re angry. When you lie and when you tell the truth. And now…

And now he knows what you look like when you cry too.

You don’t fight him when he takes his injured arm and uses his hand to lift your chin up. You know you look like a mess. Your face dirty and your eyes bloodshot from all the tears you’re crying from him, but you don’t care. What you do care about is the way his blue eyes soften in surprise and remorse. Because those are eyes that are still alive. They look at you and they blink and they tell you that the body before you isn’t slowly fading and going cold. And that’s all you care about. That’s all you need. For your Link to stay alive. Your life be damned, all you wanted was him and his pulse and that would be enough. So why...

Why…

“Why can’t you just be more careful, Link? Please. I need you, Link. I need you.” You’re sniffling as you tie the final knot before dropping your hands to your lap. Even through your blurry vision, you can see the way his lips quiver in a way that mirrors his own. You’re getting to him. Your sadness, your fears, and your vulnerability. It’s reaching him this time. It’s finally reaching him. After all these close calls he finally seems to understand what you’ve been trying to say to him. You’re just glad you’re just thankful you weren’t too late. “So stop worrying about me like this! Stop hurting yourself like this! I just want you, okay? I just want you to…”

As you trail off, he’s quick to snatch into his arms and pull into the uninjured side of his torso. You fall unceremoniously onto his lap and that’s all it takes for you to break out into full-grown, ugly sobs. It wasn’t fair. Why did he keep throwing away his life for you? He was the Hero. You were just the support. The world could live on without you. But the world couldn’t turn without him. So why did he never listen? Why did he never value his own life as much as you valued his?

If only you knew...

Your fist closes around his tunic, holding tight, as he slowly strokes your hair and shushes you best he could. In reality, he got your message. He got it a long time ago. He knew from the moment you decided to come with him and venture off into the scariest and the most dangerous parts of Hyrule just for him. He always knew. Despite that, it never stopped him from doing what he thought was right in his heart. He never wished to cause you this much distress. And if he could take away all your pain, he’d do it again and again in a heartbeat. Because if only you knew...

If only you knew that he felt the absolute same about you.

492 notes · View notes

infernal-fire · 3 years

Text

suburban dream

summary: how do you wake up from a nightmare? is it a nightmare if you’ve been asleep the whole time?

major warnings: noncon/dubcon smut, stalking, mention of pregnancy, some cum play (check the prompts for indications of other warnings)

a/n: this is for @iraot’s 1.1k writing challenge. BIG congrats on 1.1k (i cannot explain how glad i am that others get to read your amazing work) and another BIG thank you for hosting this challenge.

Here are the results of my wheel spins:

Kink wheel: daddy kink, somnophilia, breeding kink Character wheel: Jake Jensen Situation wheel: Neighbours AU

You let out a breath of relief as you dropped the last brown box into the corner of the room. How you managed to own this much stuff, you’d never know. Glanced around the living room, it was difficult to decide where to begin. After much contemplation, you huffed and picked up the pizza catalogue, deciding to call it a day.

It was unbearable to leave the house in the mess that it was. On the other hand, your right hip wailed in agony every time you bent down. Lacking the much-needed support of friends or family, you had no option but to suck it up and unpack… but that can wait till tomorrow.

Fishing out just the necessities for the night, you climbed up the stairs and headed into the master bedroom. Massive house for one person, you noted. You did insist that an apartment would suffice but Tony was a stickler for rules.

All Stark employees have to be residents of a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood.

Before getting the job, you weren’t even aware that “Stark-Jensen” neighbourhoods were a thing; it was a term coined by the tech company itself, referring to neighbourhoods that are protected by Stark-Jensen technology. The crime rate in these neighbourhoods are always startlingly low, the odd criminal or two being from inside the community itself. All things considered, how could you say no to free housing?

Sure, the security measures assured that you never had to worry, but it also made you wonder why they were there in the first place. This place was as secure as the Stark Tower; why? You tried not to ask too many questions, afraid of getting on Tony’s bad side. Besides, it isn’t characteristic of him to give you a straight answer anyway.

Life is good, your most harrowing concern at the moment being that your new place had no curtains. It had been a long time since things were calm and you were just recognizing that your days had been free of storms for some time now. Counting your blessings for the second time that night, you stepped into the shower and reminded yourself of all the things to be grateful for.

To say you were in a good mood was an understatement. You finished your night routine right as the pizza was delivered and excitedly skipped down. No one told you how fun living alone was but they didn’t need to - you quickly found that independence is a glorious necessity in everyone’s life.

Jake stood bewildered at your person throwing the door open. He gripped the pizza box tight to ensure he didn’t drop it and continued to look at you like you had grown a third head. He never was very good with his words, but your beauty truly inhibited his ability to think.

“Hi?” you asked.

“Hey, I-I’m your neighbour, Jake. Saw that you were moving in and I came to ask if you need any help.”

“Oh,” you contemplated, looking past him. “Where’s the pizza person?”

“I paid for it. Housewarming gift?” he said like a question and handed it over.

You received the warm box and waited for him to say something as he fiddled with his hands. His smile looks so familiar but you couldn’t place your finger on it.

“So…Do you need help?” He looked up right at the end. You grinned at how shy he was.

“I would really appreciate the help tomorrow,” you replied casually.

“Oh, so… I’ll come by tomorrow morning?” He looked hopeful, as if you were the one handing him the olive branch. You took a once-over of his build, sure that he would come handy when your hip gives up again and nodded in response.

He nodded back slowly and turned around to leave, but seeing him at your doorstep felt eerily similar to a puppy left out in the rain.

“I don’t think I can finish this pizza alone,” you called out. He turned around, a glint of happiness apparent in the shine of his eyes.

“Do you have time to help me with this right now?” It was your turn to look hopeful and you really hoped this cutie took the bait.

He did.

You couldn’t ignore the nagging at the back of your head that you had seen him somewhere. You also couldn’t dismiss the fact that dinner together was just a little awkward. The conversation started off with small talk, and it didn’t take a genius to tell that neither of you enjoyed it. Luckily, it shifted to talks about the neighbourhood and your old job. After that, the words flowed easily, the two of you bonding like you had known each other forever. Although it was smooth sailing, you couldn’t help but wonder how he knows so much about the neighbourhood security measures. When he mentioned that he had lived there for about 6 years, you chalked it up to a simple accumulation of knowledge he must’ve acquired from being around for so long.

“So everyone who lives around here works for Stark-Jensen, right?” you questioned, trailing your finger on the rim of your second wine glass for the night.

“Yeah, for the most part. Though it’s hard to tell who works for who.”

You chuckled in agreement.

“What is it with that? I mean, I work for Stark, and my colleagues, too… but exclusively for Stark. Jensen does exist right?”

“Yeah,” he snickered, “He does. Stark makes the tech and Jensen does the coding.”

“So they’re a two-man team, but Tony’s the face of the company? Seems sort of unfair,” you muttered, quirking your brow a little.

Jake smiled at your comment, glanced at his hands and looked back up at you.

“Maybe he wants it to be that way.” He nudged his glasses up and took a little sip of his wine while peering at you.

You cocked your head to the side and considered the information. Your head was hazy and you needed to stop drinking; alcohol and cute guys are not a good mix.

“Wait.” You squinted at him.

“Does that mean you’re a Stark-Jensen employee?”

He let out a chortle and took your glass from you.

“Hey, hey I want that back!” you whined, not even caring that you’re embarrassing yourself.

“I think that’s enough for today.” He gently helped you up, waiting for you to move.

“I can usually handle my liquor,” you promised, clinging onto his broad form for support.

He started moving you up to your lone mattress in the corner of your room, softly laying you down.

“Jake,” you caught his arm. “You didn’t answer the question. Do you work for Stark-Jensen?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

You pouted at his answer, still gripping his wrist like you owned him. He tenderly pried your fingers off him and placed them on your belly.

“See you tomorrow,” he mumbled as he left your room. You drifted asleep easily, blissfully unaware of how you’d never be able to live down the humiliation of your drunken stupor.

The next day, you hoped Jake wouldn’t show up. It would save you from the burning heat that crept up your neck every time you recalled the night before.

Unfortunately, Jake had found it way too amusing an opportunity to tease you, showing up at your doorstep at 10 AM on the dot.

The day went on without a hitch, the conversation picking up easily from where you left off. Jake found it endearing when you groaned at the mention of your state, only after three glasses of wine. The question of his employment never crossed your mind again, both of you having way too much fun unpacking. You felt ten times better knowing that your neighbour was a loveable, single, hunky nerd; it made the stress of settling in that much better.

Of course, like all good things, the weekend came to an end. Monday morning, you eagerly prepped yourself for a new week at the office. Being Tony’s right hand took five rounds of interviews as well as background checks into every living relative you had. After the turbulent hiring process, you found that the job was not any easier. Luckily, the move had you feeling more thankful about being in sync with all the Stark tech; with FRIDAY managing your house and personal appointments, it was easier to keep track of Tony’s day.

You stepped out of the house and shielded your eyes from the beautiful day. Just then, your lovely new friend stepped onto his porch wearing casual attire.

“Have fun at work!” he called after you.

“Thanks! Are you going to work?”

“Yes, I am.” You took in his outfit one more time, chuckling as you wondered what job would pay enough to live here while dressed in sweats.

“Well, in case I don’t see ya’... Good afternoon, good evening and good night!” you exclaim loudly.

Jake giggled like a schoolboy and waved goodbye before ducking into his car.

Tony’s 10 AM meeting has been pushed to 11 AM, Miss L/N.

“No, no, that won’t do! He has another meeting at 12 PM, the timing will clash. FRIDAY, who was he supposed to meet at 10 AM?”

Speaking to the AI felt more like talking to yourself, but with time, you assured yourself that it would look as cool as Stark when handling your things.

He’s meeting Mr Jensen, the co-founder of Stark-Jensen. I believe you have not met him yet.

“Yeah, I haven’t. Could you call him for me, FRIDAY?”

Sorry Miss L/N, Mr Jensen’s phone is switched off. He has already notified Tony of the change in plans.

“What an asshole,” you grumbled.

On the contrary, I think you would like Mr Jensen, Miss L/N.

“You can just call me Y/N, FRIDAY. Oh, and, send out a notification to all of today’s meeting hosts and tell them to push it by one hour. If they complain, send them my number to take up any problems they have.”

It’ll be done by the time you reach your office.

“Thank you,” you smiled and pulled into your parking spot, right beside Tony’s.

It was hard to imagine what would’ve happened today if Tony didn’t give you access to FRIDAY. Calling each meeting host and personally asking them to push their meetings seemed like a tedious and mind-bending task. And frankly, you didn’t ever look forward to talking to Karen’s. But now, you would never have to know; FRIDAY was an absolute godsend.

You stepped onto the other side of security clearance just as the clock struck 9 AM. Strutting up to your office, you made a mental checklist of everything you need to do during the day. Usually, Tony didn’t require you to sit in for his meetings. He has a different set of assistants for note-taking purposes.

Too consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t notice the large picture of Jake and Tony sitting side by side on the wall beside the elevators. You also didn’t notice Jake’s smirk as he passed by you with ease. He would’ve stopped to say hi, but he knew that you didn’t realize who he was yet. Now he just had to figure out a way to get you to show up to his and Tony’s meeting and give you the heart attack of a lifetime.

Beep, beep.

The Stark-watch buzzed on your wrist, letting you know that Tony was calling for you. You had barely even stepped into the elevator and he was already whining like a baby.

You shook your head and stepped into the doorframe of his lab.

“Come here!” his voice called from the far end of a lab. Your suspicions of him being under the work table were confirmed when he wheeled out on his back and handed you a wrench.

“Do me a favour. Tighten this for me?”

He handed you the arm of an Iron Man suit, what you assumed was his latest mark. He already lived at the lab as it was, you wondered how he ever had time for Pepper.

“Come on, put your arm into it L/N! You know what, you’re distracted, give it here.”

“Did you call me here to tighten your screws?” You shifted your weight onto one leg and crossed your arms. It was sassy of you, but Tony’s assistant needs to have some backbone, famously said by Rhodey.

“Well, you know me, screws always loose.” He knocked on his head and chuckled at his own joke. You sighed and turned to walk out.

“I need you to sit in for my 11 o’clock. And cancel everything else today.”

You gasped and turned again, marching to where he was lying down.

“Tony Stark, you have no regard for anyone’s time! I already pushed everything back by one hour because of your buddy Jensen and now you’re asking me to cancel everything?”

“I know, and I agree. I wish I could go to the mind-numbing meetings with corporate clowns, but I want to show you and Jensen something cool.”

He stopped fiddling with his toy just long enough to glance at you.

You sighed and called for FRIDAY, groaning for the umpteenth time since that morning. Why were you acting like this was the first time he’s done this? It was probably your lack of energy from moving. You couldn’t wait to get home and maybe call Jake over for dinner. Now that you considered this possibility, time seemed to pass slower, but at least there was something worthwhile to look forward to.

When 10:55 rolled around, you were sitting in Tony’s lab, patiently waiting as Tony set up his latest invention for demonstration.

“Where’s your buddy?” you asked, checking your watch for the time again.

“On his way,” he replied without turning away from his work.

He paused and took a step back to admire his work before facing you.

“You haven’t met Jake, have you?”

“Jake?”

Right on cue, Jake walked through the doors of the labs and you whipped around to find your grinning friend.

“Howdy neighbour,” Jake sneered.

“Oh, right. You live beside each other,” Tony muttered as he gathered some more things from his desk.

You shamelessly inhaled the pinewood and vanilla-infused scent of Jake as he sat down beside you. To have him so close to you was a dangerous thing, your cunt unknowingly clenching every time he moved his biceps.

“Stop making heart-eyes at him.”

You threw whatever was in your hand at Tony’s head, and it happened to be a pen. It narrowly missed as he ducked and doubled over in laughter at your embarrassment. The bastard took sick pleasure in it so he often made it a point to humiliate you, but it usually wasn’t in front of the co-CEO of the world’s largest tech company.

The rest of your time in that lab went on without any heart attacks - as far as anyone knew, the slick between your thighs doesn’t account for a ‘heart attack’, per se. You shouldn’t even be thinking about Jake like that. He was technically your boss too.

Tony dismissed you at lunch and told you to take the rest of the day off, much to your delight. You slid into your car and dropped your head onto the steering wheel.

You had barely moved into the neighbourhood and you’re already finding ways to be fired.

~Time skip~

You sighed and laid back in the over-the-top maternity chair Jake got you for feeding. Your baby gurgled as curled his little fingers into his palm before knocking on your breast once. With a light chuckle, you cooed as the little bundle began falling asleep.

This was the only place in the house that had a sliver of sunlight gracing the inside of the house.

You could have outdoor privileges if you didn’t pull that little stunt.

Could you really blame yourself for trying to leave? How were you to know that it’s impossible to leave a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood?

Because it says “Stark-Jensen” in the name, you dumbass.

Fair enough.

You lost count of how many times you sigh on the daily, instead opting to count the number of times you’re able to hold off a mental breakdown. Today, you got the rare privilege of privacy, with Jake being gone to another one of Stark’s presentation.

You reminisced about the last time you sat in Tony’s lab and watched him explain his latest creation. Little did you know that the first time you sat with Jake in there would also be the last time you ever sat in there.

You gently placed the Jim in the cradle. Again, one of the many over-the-top investments made by Jake to ensure the baby got state-of-the-art care. The way Jensen had made you sit beside him as he put the contraption together almost had you lurching. But you didn’t want to wake the baby. The horridness of the memories cannot outweigh your will to keep Jimmy from crying.

“Look at it!”, Jake excitedly spun the box to show you. It must’ve cost an unreasonable amount of money - not that he couldn’t spare to spend the coin, but the purchase confirmed your worst suspicions; he was serious about this all.

Your eyes, puffy from the days of crying, were barely open. Yet you still nodded, figuring that if you put up with his enthusiasm now, he’ll let you go to sleep without raping you like he did every night.

Anyway, you were wrong.

When did everything go so wrong?; How?

You picked up your phone. Your eyes flickered between the only two contacts saved on it. Jake made sure you couldn’t do anything except call him or Tony.

You missed your ex-boss (who was always more of a friend to you). But, it was obvious that calling him wasn’t worth it and would rarely yield any fruitful conversation. Tony always spoke as if he were walking on glass around you and your words were always monitored and censored by Jake. It didn’t take long to figure that one out.

“I don’t know what happened, Tony, she’s just unhinged,” Jake explained over the phone. In the background, you struggled against the bonds that held you to his bedframe. You sobbed harder into your gag and tried to scream ‘help’. All that came out was a shriek.

“You hear her? She’s completely unfit to come into work… What happened? I don’t know man… She’s breaking down under all the stress. A few days of rest might do the trick. No, no, you don’t have to come down. I’ll take care of it.”

He ended the call and you went limp, pausing your hysteria. He smiled at you as if he hadn’t kidnapped you. As if he hadn’t just made Tony believe that you were off your rockers. As if he hadn’t just fucked you five times over the span of 48 hours.

He had planned every step of your entrapment to the letter and it was all going according to his plan.

You put your phone facedown on the dining table and walked back upstairs to your room. His room. Your room, too.

Never, you internally screamed.

Well, it’s too late to debate it.

You stood at the foot of your bed and traced the footboard. He took you countless amount of times on this bed and every instance held some clue that he was working up to what was happening now. You could see that now - but what was the point now?

You giggled as Jake pushed you onto his bed. Who knew this golden retriever could be so rough?

“Shhshshshhh” you slurred and Jake laughed in response.

“Tony’s not here, baby,” he replied, climbing on top of you.

“We’re not gonna get fired?”

“He can’t fire me, sweetheart.”

“Oh… yeah.” You frowned, remembering that your risqué relationship was only risky for you.

In your drunken haze, you didn’t realize Jake was rubbing his bulbous tip against your folds, gathering slick.

“Condom?”

“Don’t have,” Jake lied.

“Oh,” you hesitated.

“It’ll feel so good, baby.” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck and sunk in before you had the chance to protest.

“Jakeeee,” you whined. Writhing under his grasp, you shook your head side-to-side as he vigorously fucked into you.

He abruptly stopped and pulled out. “What have I said about saying my name?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you sheepishly say.

“That’s right, slut. You’re gonna make me a daddy, right?” He pushed back in.

“Yeah, you are. Gonna make me a daddy, so call me daddy.”

The implication of his words flew right over your head in your drunken haze and blank mind. Any ounce of sense that you had left was being fucked out by his thick length.

“Gonna blow my load. Fill you tight cunt, not gonna last long.”

His words were broken with loud moans. He couldn’t think straight with your warm, wet pussy inviting him in over and over.

As you shook from an overwhelming orgasm, your pussy involuntarily clenched, causing Jake to lose any last bit of restraint he was holding onto. He pushed in as far as he could go as you flailed around. He pinned your arms down and pressed his mouth into yours, delivering a hot and heavy kiss that had you panting.

He pulled out, but the string of cum that followed made you blanch. You never were one for cum play. Still, you didn’t protest when Jake pushed everything back in with two fingers.

“Gotta’ make sure you’re full baby.”

You shake your head now, but again, what’s the point? It’s all done and dusted. Though, you should give yourself some credit. Even if you had realized earlier, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He would’ve realized that you knew before you could’ve even thought about escaping.

As you drifted asleep, you adjusted the volume of the baby monitor one last time and slumped into the fluffy pillows.

How do you wake up from dreams? Was it by pinching yourself? You couldn’t wake up from the nightmare that was your reality when you pinched yourself. You doubted that would work right now. You couldn’t recall how to open your eyes. Instead, you whimpered in your sleep, reliving the moment Jake finally revealed his ulterior motive

“You did what?” Jake was seething, but the only indication of it was his clenching jaw and red face. His tone was the perfect embodiment of the calm before a storm.

“I know you aren’t happy… but Jake, you- you’re always talking about babies and a family. It was so overwhelming and I… I-I…” You were shivering now, unable to withstand the heat of his glare. You had never been on the receiving end of his anger. Hell, you had never even seen him angry.

“I didn’t have an abortion, Jake, for god’s sake stop looking at me like a killed a baby! Plan B is not a crime. I’m only even bringing this up because I started on birth control anyway. Plan B every time we have sex is just not practical or feasible.”

At this point, you could’ve been speaking to a wall. Jake still hadn’t said anything and you were beginning to wonder if he had even been listening.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” he whispered, at last.

“What?”

“I watch you do everything, I can’t believe I didn’t know about the Plan B.”

“What… What are you saying?”

“I said,” Jake stood up, “I’ve basically been watching you 24/7. And I don’t know how I didn’t notice this.”

“What do you mean watching me?” Tears in your waterline were threatening to blur your vision but you blinked furiously in an attempt to keep looking Jake in the eyes.

“You think FRIDAY works for you?”

Jake leisurely cracked each knuckle and took a step towards you. You took one back.

“Oh, now, don’t be like that.”

You woke from your nightmare that was the boiling pot and jumped straight into the fire. Jake was already moving in and out of your channel, moaning about how he missed you too much.

You tried to adjust yourself but he caught your arms and pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach.

When he pushed back in, the hopelessness of your life manifested as tears; it happens every once in a while.

Today, you had a new record: you were able to hold off a total of 7 breakdowns.

But, of course, that was right before he pinched you awake every time.

Masterlist

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romione-trope-fest · 2 years

Text

Rambunctious Ramblings

Read on for a creative DH Missing Moment from @dot-adsty!

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Title: Rambunctious Ramblings

Author: Dot-Adsty (primary tumblr Dot-Adsty not Dotadsty)

Trope: DH Missing moment

Summary: Before the rescue of Harry from the Dursley's in Deathly Hallows, tensions are high. The youngest of the Burrow's inhabitants are excluded from Order meetings, and they are sick of it. Especially Ron, who plans to do something about it.

Word Count: 965

Rating: T for language

No Trigger Warnings

-----

“This is ridiculous,” Ron shouted. “They’re treating us like children!”

Hermione sighed and looked up at Ron. He was pacing across the floor of his bedroom, anxiously pushing his hand through his overgrown hair as he plodded from one side of the tiny room to the other. Through the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Ginny give her the side-eye as if to say this again.

“I’m of age, you’re of age,” he pointed at Hermione. “The only person who isn't of age is bloody Harry. I bet they’d let him sit in meetings if he were here.” Ron heaved a sigh and collapsed in a huff on his bed. He didn’t last long in his relaxed state and soon jumped up to continue his tirade.

“The twins are even there! They’re only a couple of years older than us!”

And aeons less mature, Hermione thought to herself with a smirk.

“What?” Ron asked Hermione, noticing her smile.

“Nothing,” Hermione whispered and brought her eyes back to her book in embarrassment.

“How are we supposed to help, if we don’t know what’s going on?” Ron stressed, not slowed down in the slightest by Hermione and Ginny’s lack of enthusiasm.

“With everything we know, and everything…” he paused and looked at Ginny with an air of suspicion, “we have to do, they should be begging us to join them.”

“You know what,” Ginny asked, tossing her magazine to the side, “is ridiculous? It’s you complaining about not being included in Order meetings when you won’t include me in what you're planning! What do you know, huh? What are you planning on doing?” she asked desperately, looking at Hermione and Ron.

Hermione gave Ginny a sympathetic look. They couldn’t tell Ginny what they knew, they couldn't tell anyone, at least not according to Harry. Hermione had pestered him a few times about letting someone know their plans, someone who was older and wiser, someone who could continue the hunt...if they couldn’t. But Harry was strict in his resolve not to tell anyone, especially not Ginny.

“That's right, you won't tell me!” Ginny huffed and stood up to leave. “We’ve got to protect Ginny. That’s what you all say. Well, I think that's utter bollocks. If you’re old enough to be in the Order, I’m old enough to know what you're doing. It’s not like I can’t help.”

Ginny looked at the pair with pleading eyes, and Hermione felt terrible that she couldn’t include Ginny in some way. She could only imagine what it would be like knowing that your brother and your…friend were risking their lives and you could do nothing about it. After a moment of silence, Ginny left the room, slamming the door as she left.

“She’s a bit emotional, don't you think?” Ron asked Hermione, and Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron’s total lack of self-awareness.

“She’s got a point,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, well,” Ron shrugged. He folded his arms and sat across from Hermione. “I don’t know how you can be so calm, don’t you want to know what's going on?”

“Of course I do,” Hermione replied succinctly. “I just happen to know that whinging about it won’t change anything.”

Ron harrumphed in protest and began playing with loose threads on a throw at the edge of his bed. Just as Hermione was starting to refocus on her book, he spoke up again.

“I just–,” he paused, looking down at his hands, “I want to do something. It feels like I’m sitting on my bloody ass all day, while the whole world's burning to bits.”

“I know,” Hermione responded in a gentle tone. “But when Harry gets here we’ll have plenty to do, plenty to plan.”

“Yeah, but what about now,” Ron sighed. “I mean you can’t be fine with doing nothing, reading,” he tilted his head to read the title of her book, “Pride and Prejudice, and sitting about.”

With a sigh, Hermione removed the book cover from her book and revealed the real title–The Unique History of Deadly Potions and Spells.

“Great,” Ron said, sounding annoyed, “so I’m the only one doing fuck all.” He stood up, seemingly propelled by his frustration and tossed the ratty blanket he was holding to the side.

“Well,” Hermione said, “we could do something.”

“Yeah, like what?”

Hermione stood up and walked to Ron. “We could practice duelling?”

“What, duel you? No way!”

“Because I’m a girl?” Hermione asked in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest and letting out a huff.

“No, because you'd bloody beat my ass.”

Hermione couldn't help the small smile that formed on her face. She knew she should be admonishing him for his language, but she decided to ignore it and take the compliment.

“Do you have any other ideas?” Hermione asked.

“We could go downstairs and demand they let us in the meeting,” Ron stated.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Ron questioned, appearing taken aback by Hermione's agreement.

“I told you that I want to know too.”

Ron nodded his head and held out his hand. “Let’s go, then.”

Hermione stilled, looking back and forth from his opened hand to his face. He seemed to be doing the same thing, his eyes staring intently at his outreached palm. She figured he would snatch his hand back, realising his mistake. But he didn’t. After what would have typically been much too long for someone to take another’s hand, Hermione reached out towards him. She squeezed his slightly sweaty palm as their hands collided.

“Alright,” Hermione smiled as they walked out of the bedroom, still hand-in-hand.

Suddenly, everything felt easier. She felt like she could do anything, even interrupt the people she so looked up to and demand that they include Ron and her. As long as she had Ron by her side.

#submission

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Broken trust, pt.5

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four

Summary: Meeting at the fold, Aleksander has a choice to make and this time, his anger threatens his control.

Warnings: angst (my apologies), fluff sprinkled on top, indicating smut

a/n - This one is the last one before the finale, I’m sure this time.

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Darkness stood before her, utterly filled with terrors spoken of in every tale in Ravka. Y/N stared at the fold from a distance, remembering the first time she had seen it.

It unnerved her in the past, the unknown playing with her imagination to fashion something much worse than reality. She was no fool, Y/N understood the gravity of what she wanted to execute. This fold had taken countless lives since its creation – her parents as well.

Exhaling loudly, she placed a hand over her chest as she closed her eyes. Whatever possessed Aleksander to create the fold couldn’t excuse the lives lost or the orphaned children who grew up the same way she did.

“Are you sure?” Mal’s voice is heavy, nearly pleading for her to give up her plan. She glances at him, not with uncertainty but with unwavering determination.

“I have to do this. You know this.”

Reaching for her hand, Mal’s fingers slip across her open palm, intertwining with her own. “It’s not too late to change your mind. This burden doesn’t have to be yours.”

A heavy sigh passes her lips, but it does nothing to relieve the true weight inside her chest. “I will never be free of it if we leave now.”

“Of him, you mean?” Mal frowns, his lips pressing in a thin line she wished she could turn into a smile. “You’ll never be free of him.”

“You could have been on that ship”, she reminds him, gently stroking his cheek. “If I wasn’t in that tent and I didn’t meet him, you’d have been on that ship with no survivors.”

Looking up at the sky, he sighs, “It would be better.” His eyes meet the surprise in hers, “I wouldn’t be sending you off into the darkness without any control over what will happen.”

“I’ll come back”, Y/N musses. “I always do”, she smiles softly, sniffling.

“You better!”

Slapping Mal’s arm, Y/N frowns, “I’m kind of insulted how little faith you have in me!”

Fingers running down her spine had caused shivers run throughout Y/N’s body. She chuckles, hiding her face in the crook of Aleksander’s neck.

“Don’t hide from me”, Aleksander complains. Trying to untangle himself in order to take control once more, his throaty chuckle furthers her need to cling to him.

Her arms wrap around him, pulling him closer as if he’s the air she needs to breathe. “I used to daydream about us.” Her small voice freezes him, his lips twitching with her confession.

“In what manner?”

Rolling to her side, Y/N glances at him only to shake her head. “It’s silly.”

Cupping her cheek, Aleksander leans in, close enough for their noses to touch. “Tell me.”

“I imagined how it would feel like to wake up and see your hair disheveled or how your lips would feel against mine”, her eyes flicker to his lips, causing her to lick her own. “Just about how I’d fall so hopelessly in love with you.”

“So you’re in love with me”, Aleksander raises an eyebrow, teasing her.

Wide eyed, Y/N blushed deeply with his heavy gaze upon her. He never blinks, never stammers or stumbles – Aleksander is a work of art and she couldn’t believe she blurted her feelings out for such perfection in a foolish daydream ramble.

“I wanted to tell you I love you without making a fool of myself, but that didn’t work”, she huffs, turning on her back. Staring at the ceiling, she wished she could hide now. A man as serious as Aleksander must find her so immature after her display of childish behavior, but she couldn’t face him.

Instead, he propped himself up on his elbow, his face obscuring her view of the ceiling. “I find it adorable”, he whispers almost wistfully and Y/N couldn’t understand why.

What is he longing for when she’s right there, under him? She didn’t miss the lack of a love proclamation on his behalf, but she could wait a while longer to hear him say it. After all, she’s the one he’s meant to be with.

“So you won’t run for the hills, screaming?” She kinked her eyebrows, beaming at his silent determination.

“Takes far more to frighten me, Sunshine. I’ll always be there for you.” He leans in, pecking her forehead. “For you”, he adds as his body presses her into the mattress. Staring intently in her eyes, his knee pushed her thighs apart. Resting his forehead on hers, Aleksander’s hand moved up her forearm until his fingers intertwined with hers, holding her hand tightly in his as he pushed inside her.

A moan escapes her, eyes closing as he whispers into her parted lips, “And inside you.”

Aleksander never wanted to leave his Sunshine. He wanted to spend the rest of eternity with her unraveling under him each and every night. He still loves her more than anyone else could. All he could think about is how it might need an eternity for him to make things right with her, because in time he believed she’ll see reason and understand he’s right.

But she fell in love with him as he is, temper and wicked plans and horrible notions of what love is. She knew that about him before she ever learned of who he is. She looked past everything he had done, Aleksander couldn’t figure out what’s so different about this.

“General”, Ivan stops at the entrance of his tent, out of breath. “Someone is spotted at the outskirts of the fold. The men believe they mean to enter the darkness on their own.”

Standing, Aleksander straightens his back. His eyes narrow and his jaw unclenches long enough for him to speak, “Who is it?”

“A woman and a man”, Ivan responds, swallowing thickly as he takes note of the general’s flared nostrils.

Forming fists, Aleksander lifts his chin. Despite the end of their relationship, Aleksander didn’t forget Y/N’s promise. He knew she’s brave, far braver than any Grisha he’d ever met. Aside from him, that is.

His Sunshine had a persisting quality about her, one he used to appreciate before. She would defy the devil himself if he stood in her way and it used to bring a smile to Aleksander’s lips. This time around, he and the fold are her devil.

“STOP THEM”, he orders. “She had never been in the fold before!”

His booming voice surprised even him, but it terrified Ivan who nodded and ran out as if he would cut him in half right then and there. To make matters worse, Aleksander wasn’t sure he wouldn’t.

Looking at his hands, he could have sworn he caught a tremble in a usually steady right hand. “What are you planning, Y/N?”

Fingers grazing Y/N’s, Aleksander felt a tingle run up his arm and to his heart. He always felt like shadows clouded any chance for happiness. Somehow, through it all, he saw where the shadow ends and there she stood. He trusted in her light, the one he could see even when she didn’t conjure it to the surface. She was Sunshine incarnated, his saving grace.

“I’ll never be strong enough”, she croaks, turning away from Aleksander.

With a frown etched on her forehead, Y/N swallowed thickly. She didn’t expect Aleksander to slide a finger under her chin, tipping her face up to his. He smiles, the gesture lighting up his eyes, enough to lock her breath in her throat.

She wondered how many were as lucky as she is to see those dark skies hang stars to lead them out of a storm.

She hoped none did. Selfishly, she hoped to be the only one who knows how gentle, how kind the Darkling can be.

“You make me proud, you know that?” His words are honey, his lips set in a genuine grin as he brushes his nose against hers. “You are the strongest person I know.”

Biting her lower lip, she looks into his eyes briefly, but long enough to know he won’t judge her.

“Could you hold my hand?”

He had all the understanding she sought in his dark hues, a tenderness she always prayed to find in someone. There was no doubt in her mind she could trust Aleksander.

As his hand embraces her smaller one, she can’t help but look up at him with a look he wasn’t used to.

She looked at him with hope, with expectations of something he wasn’t sure he’d be able to rise to, but he was determined to try.

“Can you tell me more about you?” It felt vastly important to see the change in every line of his handsome face as he remembered the past and she didn’t want to miss a single word, expression or look he could bestow upon her. He felt more important to her than anyone and this wasn’t just a story, it was his story.

If he were honest with her then, Y/N knew she’d have forgiven him. There was no shadow of doubt about it as she stared at the fold mere inches before her. She could see what true darkness is and she never saw it in Aleksander. That’s when the guilt appears, taunting her. If she stayed with him, could she have managed to change his mind about it all without ever spending a day without him? She still missed him far too much, more than she should.

“Stop!”

Looking over her shoulder, she flashes an uncertain smile that disappears just as quickly it came to be, fading to give way for her tear-filled eyes to glisten like stars in the moonlight. She should be angry, she should be running away from him, yet the sight of Aleksander riding toward her only rooted her.

“You can’t stop me”, she remarked, her eyes brimming with tears as he frowned, his forehead forming a few worry lines she’d normally tease him about because their age difference is so vast despite him looking so young, but she reveled in knowing he actually cares enough to worry about her.

Unless it wasn’t worry for her, rather the fold.

“You can’t possibly do this, Y/N! Even if I wanted to help you destroy the fold, I’d never send you in so soon with so few preparations!” He smiles, but the gesture is empty, it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’ll fail.”

"If you really thought I couldn't do this, you wouldn't be trying so hard to stop me", she snapped, "to distract me!"

For one instant, she feared she’d gone too far. There was something, a flash in his eyes, an expression that flitted over his face that locked her breath in her throat. But then he relaxed, not completely, but much of his frightening tension - battle-ready tension - seemed to flow out of him.

"I'm trying to stop you because you're going to kill yourself trying", he replied. "You begged me to let you go and I did, but look at you now.” His frown deepens, “You’re standing at the edge of certain doom and you have no one to guide you."

“So guide me!” Lifting her chin, she struggled to draw breath and forced herself to shrug as she looked away. “You said you'd always be there for me, with me”, she pauses as she remembers he also promised to be inside her. And he was right, he’s inside her, just not in a pleasurable way. He courses through her veins like a disease, an infection she can’t eradicate. ”So how did this happen? Why weren't you here?”

She wanted him to say something – anything. She wanted him to fight for her, to say he couldn’t imagine life without her and to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness which she’d give…even after everything, she’d give him the forgiveness and love he seeks.

The way her tears fell had grabbed onto his heart and squeezed it tight, those drops of salt filled with emotion had reached him too, tearing through him unforgivably.

“If you go in there, I’ll have no choice but to hurt you.” His voice is shaky, his resolution weaker than the words he’s using. “Don’t put me in this position.”

“So you really think I can’t read you? That I don’t know when you’re lying to me?” A meek smile appears on her dry lips, “Didn’t you promise me you’d never lie to me again? Never to hurt me?”

“Y/N”, Aleksander raises his voice as a warning, yet her smile refuses to falter as her eyes hold his gaze captive.

Her lips part, her mind screaming with every step she takes backwards toward the fold, yet she never felt more at peace. She didn’t know what is stronger – her need to run and save her heart from heartbreak by staying in his arms forever, or her determination to destroy the fold. Yet with every step, she’s more convinced that both those needs are one of the same.

“Don’t”, he holds out his hand once she turns away from him, a step away from the fold he created.

Looking over her shoulder, she knew there was no choice at all. The need to save herself from heartbreak and the need to destroy the fold both require her to save Aleksander from himself.

Pushing his hair back, he dismounted, taking a few steps closer to her.

“Come on, love. Draw your invisible swords. Stop me”, she challenged, seeing the anger she evoked once his shadows began pouring from around him.

He ignored her words as he advanced, his dark eyes growing darker. He bent over her, took her defiant chin in his hand. She tried to pull away but he held her fast. He kissed her, roughly at first but then his grip and kiss became gentle, deep – a proper lover’s kiss.

Y/N felt herself drifting. The pleasure of his hand on her cheek, his kiss, it weakened her resolve. He pulled away from her and looked deep into her eyes, the warm and glowing fire behind them setting his own light ablaze. All thoughts of hatred were gone from them, yet his darkness surrounded them slowly.

Narrowing her eyes, Y/N stumbles back. “No. No”; she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her lips quivering. “You can’t just kiss me and make it alright.”

“You’re my weakness”, Aleksander admits, “the one thing I lack power against. Whether it’s loving you when you’re near and driving me absolutely mad or feeding your memory after you were gone. Letting you go was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.” He narrows his eyes at her with a simmering anger burning in them, “It’s just not in me to do nothing and let you slip away again.”

Scoffing, Y/N stands her ground, “We could have made it work. If you loved me, you'd have fought for me. You'd have listened to me and abandoned the foolish notion of power you seek. But you didn't, which means I loved you more than you loved me.”

"I FOUGHT FOR YOU! You didn't let me win. What was I supposed to do, huh? Force your hand and drag you to Little palace by the hair?” Gripping her arm, Aleksander pulled her closer, her hand resting on his chest with her palm open toward his heart. She’s not a heartrender, but her touch does possess the ability to make his heart explode.

“Should I have taken you by the throat until you submitted?” He speaks lowly, his voice darker than she had ever heard it before. “Did you expect I'd want to see your hatred for me every single day if I made you stay? Tell me, WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"

Swallowing thickly, she was rendered speechless. She didn’t know what to say without provoking him further. A part of her wondered if she should fear him, if he would kill her if it came to it.

“I fucking need you more than I need to breathe.” He says through gritted teeth only to release her from his bruising grip. If she was anyone else, she’d be a corpse by now. He knew it, but so did his people. Soon enough, they’ll lose respect for him. People will stop fearing him if he keeps allowing her to defy him.

"You make them all think you're a heartless murderer, but you're not. I know you're better than that." Her voice is raspy and devastatingly painful. Y/N takes a few steps back, her eyes no longer holding back tears as they spill down her cheeks.

His heart is desperately flailing inside his chest as her grief overcomes her features and he can’t touch her again, he can’t make it go away. Time and time again, he’s the cause instead of being her cure.

In her pain she sees him as the bad guy, yet in truth he’s drowning in a sea of uncried tears too.

When you hurt a woman you love, most of them can’t even look at you, not even turn to you. But what does a man do when the woman he hurt, the woman he loves most in the world, stares right into his soul as he shatters her completely?

What can a man do when her teary eyes hold his with such bravery, such complexity as she crumbles and he has to bear witness? When he’s the perpetrator and sole witness of her fears and sorrow?

There isn’t a single thing in this world that breaks like a heart does, Aleksander knew that now for in this silent exchange between their souls, the silence has never been so deafening.

"But I am a murderer." His jaw clenches as he raises his chin, “If you take another step, I will prove it to you.”

Eyes narrowing, Y/N nods to herself. Averting her gaze, she pursed her lips before turning around so quickly Aleksander didn’t have time to react.

She held her breath once she entered the fold, moving left on instinct.

Covering her mouth, she looks up at the thundering clouds that seem to be the only light in the fold. Merely seconds after she moved, a knife like substance crossed into the fold, slicing the air where she once stood and a gasp escaped her.

She looks back, finding no trace of Aleksander, but she wasn’t a fool – that was meant to be his gift to her for defying him.

Swallowing thickly, she shakes her head at the devastating thought. Is he past saving? Would he truly kill her?

Part 6/finale

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #aleksander x reader

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pradaksj · 3 years

Text

Safety Net || part one. (m.)

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ on new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together.

❧ pairing⟶ jungkook/reader

❧ genre⟶ enemies to friends, friends to lovers, roommates au, fluff, angst, pining, eventual smut, boxer!jungkook. two-part series.

❧ word count ⟶ 24,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ mentions of oral and sex but nothing explicit or descriptive. fight scene that involves drunk man. mentions of bullying (in the past).

❧ music⟶ safety net, selfish, stuck on you, exile, +more

❧ a/n (please read) ⟶ this story switches a lot from past & present, I color coded borders to make it easier to tell :) dark purple = entering/still in the past, light purple= present, also this is unedited so sorry for any mistakes 😭 ill come back to edit a lot of things soon.

01 | 02

“Oh perfect, y/n!” Hobi stops you dead in your tracks before you could completely make your way onto the living room, “You don’t mind grabbing some more firewood from my car while I finish these up,” he says, currently too busy melting the chocolate for the s’mores he was making.

You see tonight was New Year’s Eve, and you and a couple of other close friends had decided to rent out a cabin in celebration of the new year instead of going out to some end of the year party, choosing comfort over a night of wild drinking. In the end it didn’t make much of a difference, because the moment you saw Jimin and Taehyung walk in with a pack of soju and other cheap liquor in their hands, you knew that by the end of the night someone, if not everyone, was going to end up completely wasted.

And of course, you were right. After hours of being outside in the cold, with the boys drinking as if there was no tomorrow, everyone had now made their way back inside, complaining that it was too cold outside and that the cabin came with an indoor fireplace for a reason.

Never one to drink too heavy, you had kept your drinking at a moderate pace, only allowing yourself to reach a relaxed kind of buzz. Namjoon and Yoongi on the other hand were currently debating on whether the US’s landing of the moon was nothing more than a fake ploy to beat Russia and was instead filmed on some movie set.

Jin and his girlfriend acted as measly facilitators between the two men who had been bickering back and forth for the past hour, their slurred speeches making it difficult to take either one seriously.

Jimin, for his part, had attempted to keep his drinking at a minimal but with Taehyung acting as his partner in crime, the two were now playing an unbalanced game of ping-pong, both of them looking as if at any moment they were going to knock out on the table. And Jungkook was— well where the hell was Jungkook?

But before you could dwell too much on the thought, Hobi’s voice snaps you back to reality, “pleaseeee, I’ll even add an extra chocolate square to your s’more, just like how always like em,” he flashes you a smile, your roommate of 3, going on 4, years knowing just what to say to convince you, not that you needed much of it.

Minus Hobi, you were probably the person closest to being sober, and you did not want to imagine the different disastrous scenarios that would happen if he sent anyone who wasn’t yourself out there. You also highly doubted any of them would even be up for it, and so with that you just let out a small groan, mumbling, “Where are your keys?”

Excitedly he points to the kitchen island, where his Hyundai’s keys laid across, “I parked right near the lake,” he says, immediately causing you to look back at him, brows furrowed in confusion, “No one wanted to carry the wood from here to the bonfire earlier, so I just parked near the lake to save our energy,” you roll your eyes, “Come on, it’s just a 2 minute walk at most, and I’m sure there’s still people celebrating across the lake as well so you don’t feel so scared, but if you want I can ask Jungkook to go wi—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine—” you interrupt, grabbing the keys and beginning to make your way out, quickly putting on your coat because God knew how cold it was outside. “He’s probably asleep already, knowing him,” you chuckle, the boy who Hobi had introduced you to in the last year and had been living with you two as well, had habit’s that were all too predictable by now. And though you knew he’d be more than glad to get up from bed and help, for now at least, you wanted him to rest as he, himself, was probably tired from carrying things back and forth all day in the help of preparing everything. “I’ll be quick,” you say.

“Make sure that no wooden splinter cuts you,” he shouts out before the wooden door closes, having been the victim to such cuts all day, “and call me if you find it too heavy!”

Beep. Beep.

Double clicking the lock button, you grunt as you try to simultaneously carry the uneven pieces of firewood and place Hobi’s keys back into your jacket’s pocket.

“Oh my God—” you mumble to yourself, frustrated by the lack of cooperation from the keys. The wood was now slipping from your hands, its gritty texture eager to leave you a cut and as predicted it does.

Wincing in pain, you uncaringly drop the pieces of wood, worried more about the cut on your hand than what had fallen on the ground below. Luckily the cut wasn’t too bad, nothing a little soap and water couldn’t fix, but the tingly sting in your hand meant that you’d have to wait a while before picking the wooden pieces back up.

Around you, you could hear the sound of different groups of friends and family celebrating with their own events, spotting different bonfires all around the lake. Glancing at the time on your phone, it currently read 11:00, only one more hour until the new year. A part of you was tempted to walk further down the path that led to the lake’s shore. Maybe even secretly wait so that you could watch the fireworks these groups of people most likely had shoot up into the sky at 12. Especially because you knew going back to the cabin, no one would want to come back out with you to watch. Honestly, how bad did they need their wood?

And so by convincing yourself, you begin to walk further towards the lake, careful not to trip on any of the scattered rocks that surround you. By the time you made it down, you were surprised to see just how far you were from other families, most, if not all, of them being directly across the lake. Honestly you wouldn’t have preferred it any other way.

You didn’t want to seem creepy, but the sight was somewhat comforting, the kids running around in their winter gear while their parents and friends all surrounded their bonfire, sticks and marshmallows in hand.

Not to mention that tonight was a full moon, the milky glow from the moonlight reflecting against the ripples of the lake, and the tiny stars which surrounded the magnet that was the moon only adding to the grand scenery in front of you. Usually you weren’t a sucker for these kinds of things, but wow did it look amazing. The person who’d really enjoy something like this was probably—

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, confused if you were seeing things because there he was, not too far from where you stood, sitting on a giant rock with his feet dangling, careful to not touch the freezing water. His right hand throwing the small pebbles that were near him to the lake. Not too hard, and not too soft. Clearly in his own world.

A small smile graces your lips, as you watch him continue, the lake not being the only thing the moonlight was hitting. His glimmering doe shaped eyes focused on the view in front of him, and you could only wonder what had him in such deep thought, but instead not wanting to bother, you slowly began to walk back, careful to not to make any loud noises.

One Step. Two Steps. Three Steps. Crrreaaak.

Mentally, you groan at the sound of the branch breaking, hoping that it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

“Y/N?” he says unsurely, his attention snapping towards the sound, squinting while trying to make out your figure from afar. Your tensed shoulders drop in response. Deciding that there wasn’t much you could do, you turn around and walk towards him, feeling a little guilty that you’ve probably interrupted his time alone.

He watches as you make your way towards him, scooting to his left in order to make space for you because unbeknown to you, he was not at all bothered by your presence. In fact, he had just been thinking about you along with a question that had been looming over his head for quite some time. And the fact that you somehow managed to appear in this exact moment, almost as if it was fate, only left him in further awe.

“I thought you were asleep,” you chuckle, gently sitting down on the empty spot next to him, slowly rubbing your slightly cut hands together in an attempt to stay warm.

“I was going to sleep, but,” he pauses, “I just couldn’t,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “and well why waste such a good view by being in bed, am I right?,” he laughs before quickly noticing the fresh scar on your hand, “What happened?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

You shrug your shoulders in response, “I came to grab some more firewood from Hobi’s car and well long story short, I dropped them and well I got left with this,” you laugh, not taking your tiny injury too seriously.

Opening up your hand to further show him, he carefully examines the pinkish-red scar which was now slightly swollen, sighing in disappointment, “Mm you should’ve gone to go get it disinfected,” he mumbles, slightly shaking his head as he decides that he wasn’t going to lecture you any further, for in the past year he’s learned that even someone as sweet as you, has their own buttons capable of being pushed.

Having pushed them many, many times before, tonight he just wanted you to feel relaxed and not have to worry about whether he’d say the wrong thing or not. Tonight… well tonight he just wanted for you to seek comfort in his presence, the same way he’d found comfort in yours along the way.

“It doesn’t hurt too much if I’m being honest,” you give him a small reassuring smile, if anything your hands felt more clammy than they did pain. The warm feeling in your chest only expanding to the point where you swore you could feel it at the bottom of your toes.

Honestly, it was a feeling you found yourself all too familiar with these days, and though you knew what it was, you were also unsure on how to act on it, fearful of ruining the friendship with Jungkook that had gone through several ups and downs this year. And so for you the easiest thing to do was to just avoid thinking about it and avoid talking about it.

But there was no denying that the rush of emotions you’d feel whenever you managed to crack a laugh out of Jungkook to the point where his nose would scrunch so high up that you were sure that those happy days would last forever, or the ticklish butterflies you’d feel in your stomach on movie nights where he’d randomly begin to twirl your hair with his fingers, and the rapid heartbeat you’d feel hitting against your chest after an argument over something so trivial, until of course after several days of the silent treatment, one of you would get over themselves and stubbornly apologize whether it be through words or actions, were nothing but love.

Because even in the good and bad of your friendship, the arguments and the laughs, the tears and the smiles, somehow along the way you had found yourself falling in love with the boy who was nothing more than a stranger a year ago today.

“50 more minutes,” he says under his breath, bringing you back to reality.

Awkwardly you smile, “Yeah…” you breathe, the cold crisp weather causing vapor to come out of your mouth, a sign that you were freezing despite having such a thick sweater on. Jungkook is quick to take notice, offering his own puffy jacket for you to wear, to which you quickly refuse, “Take it, I have a sweater underneath anyway,” he pressures. You find it doubtful that his black cotton turtleneck was going to be sufficient enough for him in this weather.

You giggle at his sweet gesture, finding it all too endearing, “I’m telling you I’m good,” you laugh, your shivering fingers telling a different story, “Until the clock strikes twelve at least,” you bargain, pushing the sweater in his hand away back towards him, “then I’ll go back to the warm cabin.”

He looks at you as if unconvinced, but decides to drop it and take your word for it. And if you somehow managed to weasel into staying any longer past 12, then he’d just have to forcefully carry you back to the cabin.

Soon a comfortable silence fills the air, the two of you appreciating not only the view but each other’s presence. How fitting was it that the person you met on New Year’s day last year was going to be the person you ended it with, and begin a whole ‘nother year with.

“Can you believe it’s been one whole year since we’ve met,” he suddenly breaks the silence, almost as if reading your mind. To that you let out a small breathy chuckle, in disbelief yourself. Time had gone both so slow and fast this year, it was fascinating really, how you could be both so aware and unaware that someone’s very own existence was beginning to take such a special place in your heart.

“It feels like,” you pause momentarily, a small gentle smile appearing on your face as you remembered your first encounter with Jungkook, not knowing that it’d only be the beginning to the originally rocky relationship you had with him, “It feels like it was only yesterday.”

December 31, 2018.

New Years Eve.

11:00 PM.

“Only one hour left until the new year everybody!” the DJ shouts onto his mic and over the blasting music of the party you were currently at, “Make sure you grab that special somebody before the clock strikes 12!”

“You heard him y/n, go grab a special somebody,” Hobi teases, the two of you currently sitting at the bar acting as mere spectators to the group of partygoers that were currently having the time of their life on the dance floor.

For both you and Hobi, this type of setting was a little… how could you describe it … out of place for the two of you, but after weeks of begging from both Jimin and Taehyung and a little added pressure from Namjoon and Yoongi, the two of you now found yourselves here drinking the final night of 2018 away.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny,” you playfully roll your eyes, grabbing the shot glass full of tequila and downing the surprisingly smooth liquor. Hobi follows suit and chugs down his own. A squirmful look on his face following soon after. “Maybe if I drink enough, I’ll find myself dancing just like them,” you laugh, glancing at your group of friends who were currently acting as the life of the party, Jimin busting out what he calls his most “exclusive” moves.

Hobi, unlike him, remains silent which catches your attention. His attention was now on his phone, his face now appearing both red and stressed out. Nosily, you stretch your neck and attempt to peak at what could possibly have your roommate so worried, but Hobi’s quick to catch you. Immediately he pulls his phone towards his chest.

You gasp in dramatic fashion because one, your roommate wasn’t one to keep secrets from you, and two, well you were beginning to feel a little tipsy. “Now what could Jung Hoseok be hiding,” your words come out slightly slurred, a sign that the only thing you should be drinking from this point onward was some water.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he’s quick to respond, back on his phone but this time keeping it out of your reach, his fingers quickly tapping against the glass screen. You could only wonder who it was that had him typing as if his life depended on it.

“Come onnnnn,” you sing, playfully pushing his shoulder, “It can’t be that interesting, considering you don’t do much,” you pout. He looks up from his phone for a moment, but only to shoot you a glare, excusing your teasing with the fact that you were barely holding onto the state of being tipsy and on the brink of being considered drunk.

Hobi’s eyes quickly read the most recent text he’s received, rolling his eyes at whatever it was before sighing in distress, “You really wanna know?” eagerly you nod your head yes, “Well I was hoping he would be here so I could introduce you to him,” he gently shakes his head, clearly disappointed by tonight’s outcome.

“Ooooo who's the special person,” you quirk your brows up and down, but Hobi’s quick to shoot the idea down.

“Oh no, no, it’s not like that,” he laughs, “this person is a..” he pauses, trying to look for the best word to describe his relationship with said person, “Mm I guess we can call him a childhood friend,” he hums, “and well he’s been going through a bit of a tough time right now and well long before me and you ever met, he went out of his way to help me and well I think this time it’s only right that I’m there for him.” you tilt your head, slightly confused as to where this was going, “And sooo,” he sings, “I was hoping that by bringing you here and having you in a fun mood, that I could ask if he could stay at our place for a couple of months…”

You remain silent, Hobi’s words processing through your head one by one, an effect of the alcohol currently running through your system, “Only until he gets used to being in Seoul again, and finds some kind of solid ground here of course,” Hobi throws it in, worried that your silence meant rejection.

“Oh…” you mumble, thinking to yourself for a moment. Hobi’s friend huh? Well you and Hobi were like two peas in a pod, meaning whoever was a friend of his, was a friend of yours, point blank. You trusted that whoever this friend was, and whatever predicament they were in, chose to go to Hobi for the sole reason that Hobi was one of, if not the kindest person you’ve ever met, and was one of the very rare kind of people who made sure that whatever it was a person was going through, that they found a way to overcome it. And well you also assume that Hobi was going to take care of this person’s expenses … right?

You smile once you reach a decision, “Of course they can stay Hobi,” you laugh, a little offended that he thought you’d say no, but glad that he asked anyway.

Immediately Hobi breathes a sigh of relief, glad that he got that out of the way, “But he’s using your bathroom, make sure you tell him that!” you throw in, not wanting the order in which you had your things arranged to be touched with.

Hobi laughs in response, “I’ll make sure to tell Jungkook that,” so that was his name, Jungkook. Not too much of a common name in Korea, interesting, you think.

“So when do I get to meet our new temporary roommate?” you ask in eagerness, curiosity a driving force.

Hobi sighs recalling his text from not too long ago, “Well he was supposed to come here and celebrate tonight, giving you two a chance to meet beforehand, but,” he rereads the message on his phone, hoping the three bubbles would pop up at some point before scoffing and ultimately giving up, locking the screen, “I’m not entirely too sure if he’s going to make it.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you get up from the bar stool and stretch out your arms, yawning in turn, “Mm well I guess I’ll just meet him on move in day,” you joke around, glancing at the time on your phone, “but for now I need to go pee before the countdown, there’s only like 10 minutes left,” you exclaim, surprised by how fast the hour had gone by. Hobi nods in response, getting up himself and making his way to the dance floor, joining your group of friends.

And so you begin to walk towards the ladies’ room, humming yourself a tune over the EDM music that was currently close to rupturing your eardrum. How people liked this kind of music was something you’d never understand, but to each their own right? Luckily you weren’t as drunk as you thought you were, the effects of the tequila only acting as something quick and not long lasting. Now in more of a buzzed state than “drunk”.

“MmmMmmMmm,” you hum, pushing the door of the ladies room and making your way into one of the stalls. But what you saw once you opened the restroom stall was … um …. it was safe to say that you were shocked at the sight in front of you. Shocked to the point where you couldn’t even properly react, not even a shriek coming out of your mouth.

Instead you just stood there, wide eyed, at the sight of a brown haired woman on her knees, with her hair in a messy ponytail giving um … oral … on what you could only describe as a very very handsome man.

Now if you were to ask if he was really all that into it? Well it seemed a bit unclear considering how the two of you were now having a complete stare down, a shocked expression on your face while he had a stoic one on his, until slowly a small smirk began to appear on his face.

He scoffs before saying, “Enjoying the view?” and with that you finally shriek and quickly close the stall dorm, practically running out the door because not only were you embarrassed by the situation that just happened but still in complete shock.

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, leaning your head against the wall in an attempt to process what just happened. And once you did, you facepalmed yourself in frustration, mad at the reaction you had because God was that embarrassing.

You had acted as if you’d never seen, hell, as if you’d never done the dirty with someone, but for some reason walking in on someone receiving their um... pleasure… had you feeling like a kid who didn’t know about the birds and the bees. And his little comment only added salt to the wound, he probably thought you were enjoying the view with how long you had stayed there standing like an idiot!

“Start grabbing your partners everyone because the countdown is happening in exactly three minutes everybody! Three minutes till we enter 2019!” Three minutes?! You had to find your friends quick! Pushing off what happened to the back of your mind, you speed walk back to the main sector of the club, looking through the crowd of people in hopes of finding at least one of your friends.

“Where could he b—Ah!” you impulsively squeal once you spot Hobi along with the rest of your friends, quickly making your way towards them, Hobi spotting you as well.

“There you are! What took you so long?” Hobi asks, but just as you’re about to answer, a voice from behind interrupts.

“I caught traffic, and well parking was a bitch,” the voice, all too familiar, sends a feeling of panic through your body because turning to face the owner of said voice, was just as surprising as the scene you walked in on only moments ago.

“Y/N! This is Jungkook, Jungkook this is Y/N, my roommate I was telling you about,” Hobi shouts over the music, and all you can do is stare at the man in front of you wide eyed. Your mouth slightly agape in shock, while Jungkook on the other hand has a teasing grin on his face, as only the two of you knew what had transpired in the ladies’ restroom. He sticks his hand out for you to shake and you notice the small number of tattoos that cover his hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we got one minute on the clock! Start saying your goodbyes to 2018, and get ready to say hello to 2019!” The DJ shouts excitedly, lowering the music for the countdown that’s about to begin.

“Earth to Y/N?” Hobi says waving his hand in front of you, having left Jungkook with his hand open for quite some time now.

“Oh,” you say, bringing yourself back to reality and shaking his hand in return, but the moment you do he brings you in for a small friendly hug, “What a small world,” he whispers into your ear, winking at you as he pulls away.

Hobi, unaware of how you two originally met, rolls his eyes, “Hey, hey hey, she’s our roommate not some girl you can go messing around with,” Hobi says, “Now come on you two, there’s only 15 seconds left!” gently he shoves the two of you towards your groups of friends who were now wearing their New Year’s props which included giant sunglasses, feathered boa’s, and more.

“In 10, 9, 8 , 7, 6…” everyone begins to scream the numbers of the countdown, 2018 clearly leaving with a bang, “5,4,3!” you suddenly feel an arm wrap over your shoulder, and like in the movies a part of you expected it to be the man you just met, but thankfully enough it was Jimin who was clearly drunk, excited, and in clear need of catching his balance. But of course that didn’t mean someone didn’t have their eyes on you from afar…

“2, 1! Happy New Year!” The fog machine erupts and the strings of golden confetti begin to fall from the club’s ceiling. Cheers to the New Year.

Clutching your stomachs in laughter, the two of you poke fun at the recollection of that fatal first encounter, “I really walked in on you getting,” you heave in such a way that you’re incapable of completing the sentence, genuine laughter filling the air.

“Hey, you were the one who stood there like you’d never seen a—” playfully you push his shoulder before even he gets the chance to finish his own sentence.

“Like what you see?” you exaggeratingly mimic his voice from that night, lowering your voice by several octaves. He cries out in laughter, tears now forming in the corners of his eyes, feeling cringe at his choice of words from a year ago today. Who did he think he was? “The woman didn’t even bother to look up! Clearly you had her enamored in what she was doing!” you tease, and in response he wraps his arms around you in a playful manner, telling you that he didn’t want to hear any more.

“What even happened when I left?” you ask, curious to know the answer considering you only knew what you did afterwards.

“Well I overheard the DJ yell about the countdown so I had to cut it short, and well we exchanged numbers. I mean it wasn’t at all a drunk hookup or anything, I was sober, she was sober. I think I went out with her once afterward, but,” he shrugs his shoulders, “It was just meant to be a one time thing I guess,” he mumbles, shaking his head in slight shame and embarrassment. See a year ago, hookups like that were the norm for him, but a year ago he was also nothing like the person he was now. Was it for the better? He’d like to think so.

Shaking your head, you mumble, “To think our relationship would only get worse,” you stare at him accusingly, “no thanks to you!” He stays silent, not bothering to deny the accusation.

“Hey you didn’t make it any easier!” he huffs, “Do you need help with that? What’s that? I don’t think that should be placed there,” he mocks your questions from that day many months ago, move in day.

“I was just trying to be nice! Make things less awkward, you know?” you feel your cheeks get red, now seeing how pushy you had probably been.

He scoffs, “No you just didn’t want your things invaded with mine,” it was now your turn to stay silent.

“Mm,” you hum.

January 2019.

“I don’t think that should go there,” you whisper to Hobi, watching Jungkook place more of his things around your apartment, secretly hoping it was the last batch.

This had to at least be your 15th complaint today, but what bothered Jungkook more was that not only wouldn’t you tell it to his face, but they’d be said in such a superficial tone. He didn’t care if you were trying to be “nice”, it sounded fake and prissy and he’d prefer it if you could just shut up for one moment. People like you were just so… annoying, and to think he thought you were cute.

“Do you need help?” your voice interrupts his train of thought, your figure now looming over his shoulder, and attempting to look at the content of his cardboard boxes. Harshly, he closes the flaps, momentarily scowling at you before taking a deep breath and putting on his best face.

“No it’s fine, I’m almost done but thank you though,” he says, now his turn to be superficial.

“Oh well just let me know if you need anything,” you smile, as unbeknownst to Jungkook, you really were just this nice of a person. Yeah, things may still be a little awkward on your part because of what happened on New Years Eve, you of course having to pep talk yourself several times in the mirror this morning, but to you it was important you established some kind of friendship with your new roommate. Even if he wasn’t going to be here for long.

“I’m gonna go get us takeout,” Hobi announces, not only tired but hungry from having helped Jungkook carry his stuff upstairs to the apartment floor all day, because out of all days in the year, today the elevator just had to be out of service. “I’ll be back,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter and making his way out. Leaving you and Jungkook to yourselves.

An awkward silence fills the living room air, Jungkook currently taking a small break on the long couch, while you sit on the short one, fidgeting with your fingers. Maybe you should make conversation? It wouldn’t hurt right?

“So Jungkook,” you begin nervously, he looks up from his phone and places his attention on you, a stoic expression on his face, “um..”, you mentally scold yourself for not already having a question prepared before speaking, “where are you from?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he scoffs, “Korea?” he says, as if stating the obvious.

Feeling flustered, you reiterate your question, “No I mean like where did you move from, you know…” your voice lowers at the end.

He sighs before responding, his attention now back on his phone, “I was in the states for a while, but I’m originally from Busan.”

Immediately you light up, seeing this as an opportunity to further the conversation, “Oh I have a friend from there, I don’t know if you met him on New Years, but his name is Jimin!” you excitedly ramble, “He was the one with the dirty blonde hair, black turtleneck, sparkly jac—”

“Yeah I know,” Jungkook rudely interrupts, now getting up from the couch and walking towards his new room, “Let me know when Hobi’s back, yeah? I’m freaking starving,” and with that he enters his room and shuts the door, leaving you slightly taken back.

“Will do,” you quietly mumble to yourself, a little hurt to say the least by his cold action. Shrugging it off, you excuse it by assuming he was just grumpy. You were sure that he'd be more open to having conversation after settling his things in.

That night after cleaning a couple of your own things, and eating the food Hobi had brought, you remained in bed and on your laptop, Youtube surfing the rest of the night away. That was of course until you heard the sound of your restroom door opening and closing. Right away you get up, already knowing what transpired, but wanting to see the mess that was most likely made with your own two eyes.

Walking into your restroom, you’re immediately hit with the scent of your strawberry shampoo and lavender body wash mixed in with the foggy steam that was created, a result of an extremely hot shower. The sink, a travesty to look at, was spilled with water all over and you did not even want to get started on the “manly” products that were now side to side with yours behind the mirror’s cabinet. Meanwhile, your hair brush was covered in strands of dark brown hair that clearly weren’t yours. But the final straw? Finding the cap of your $100 dollar serum halfly screwed closed with remnants dripping down the bottle.

Shutting the cabinet, you practically stomp out of your restroom and immediately towards Jungkook’s door. Raising your hand to knock, you take in a deep breath, reminding yourself to be calm. Maybe Hobi didn’t tell him anything about using your restroom. This was only going to be a one time thing until you cleared it out with him.

Gently, you knock on his door, patiently awaiting his response. You could hear the sound of muffled music playing in the background, meaning it was probably much louder inside the room than out. Raising your hand to knock again, the door swings open just as you’re about to tap against the black wooden door. A shirtless Jungkook with your baby blue towel wrapped around his waist.

“Yes?” he smugly says, your cheeks almost an embarrassing shade of crimson. It’s hard to not look at what’s in front of you, but you manage.

“Oh um—” you fluster your words, “um —” you gulp before finding your words again, “I was hoping Hobi had told you about the bathroom situation…but um..I guess he didn’t so um yeah, my bathroom is only for me to us—”

“He did,” he cuts you off, huffing a small laugh.

“He what?” you asked, unsure of what he was referring to, or at least acting dense about it because you did not want to believe that the shirtless boy in front of you completely disregarded the simple rule he was supposed to follow.

“He told me about the whole bathroom rearrangement, buuuuttt,” he teases, “your restroom has the bigger shower and well add strawberry scented shampoo and lavender body wash into the mix and honestly it was a done deal for me,” he stretches his arms above himself, dramatically yawning, his abdomen stretching out in such a way that the towel on his waist was barely clinging onto its dear life.

“But—But—”

“But what?” he cocks his head to the side, amused by your panicked behavior, “It’s also the closest one to me so,” he shrugs his shoulders, “Well if that’s all you came here for then, goodnight,” he winks at you before turning around and slamming the door once again.

You stand there bewildered by what just happened, your mouth agape in shock. Did that really just happen or? Because if it did then he practically just told you that he didn’t give one single fuck.

Making your way back to your room, you’re unsure on how to feel about everything that just happened because sure you’ve encountered your fair share of rude people before but to live with one was a completely different story. And Jungkook wasn’t only rude, he was the smug kind, the “I know I’m good looking, so I can treat anyone the way I want to because my good looks will let me get away with it,” type of rude. Was it a little specific? Yes. But it’s true. Honestly, it was the type of person you thought only existed in rom-coms but clearly they exist in real life. Jungkook being a prime example of such an attitude.

“Just a couple of months,” you breathe out, throwing yourself onto your bed in exasperation, “until he gets settled down in Seoul,” you repeat Hobi’s words from New Years Eve to yourself, sighing before allowing slumber to sweep over you.

“So much for a couple of months,” you tease Jungkook, nudging his shoulder a little bit because a year later and he was still your roommate, and ironically it was you and Hobi who practically begged him to stay.

He scrunches his nose, “ I don’t see you complaining.”

You raise your hands in defense, “I’m just kiddinnn,” you sing, “What would I do without your buttermilk pancakes huh?” you grin at him, his eyes rolling playfully in return.

“Is that all you want from me? Pancakes!” he chuckles, “Ah I should’ve known,” he shakes his head. The two of you giggle at each other’s banter, his high pitched laugh truly infectious.

“What do you think y/n and Jungkook from the beginning of 2019 would think of this scene right now?” you ask, knowing the answer.

Jungkook ponders at the question for a moment before letting out a deep breath and answering, “Mm I think they’d have a hard time believing what’s in front of them, at least I would. I think you would be happy to see that your goal in becoming friends with your new roommate worked out just fine. It just took a bit of time was all…”

February 2019.

To say that you were struggling to live with Jungkook would probably be the biggest understatement of the year. From the constant use of your things without permission, to the blatant rude remarks he’d constantly throw at you, to the days where he’d be completely cold to you and the rest of the world, and don’t even let you get started on the constant women he’d bring over. You’d have to invest in some ear plugs soon if it kept going at the rate it was because at this point you knew Jungkook liked it um … rough … so to speak.

You found yourself asking Hobi, “Has he settled down yet?” wayyyy too often. Sometimes it felt like Jungkook was purposely baiting you to stoop to his level, like as if he was itching to play a game of cat and mouse. And so for you to continuously suck it up and put on a fake smile for him, only made him do more things to bother you.

He was like a mosquito pestering you at the back of your neck. He wouldn’t stop until he got his fangs, or whatever it was that mosquitos used to bite, into you. For what reason? You truly did not know, for you have been nothing but nice to him since the day he moved in.

You often wondered how Hobi could put up with it, you mean Jungkook wasn’t exactly mean to Hobi, but he did throw remarks and eye rolls here and there. The best way to describe it was that Jungkook was treating you two like punching bags, and a part of you wanted to know why? Not only why, but where? Where is Jungkook from? Why was he in the states? What made him come back? Why can’t he go back to Busan? Does he have family? How does Hobi even know the dude? Why does Jungkook wake up with a stick up his ass every morning? Why was Jungkook angry at the world and when did he decide that he was going to take it out on you two, especially you. Honestly you were unsure if you’d ever get answers to your questions, but it wouldn’t matter in a couple of weeks when he was gone, right?

Luckily though the only times you really did see Jungkook was on weekends, and even then if you weren’t out doing some nightly festivities then he was. Or while you went grocery shopping he was working out or something, Not to mention that weekdays you worked AM shifts at your job while Jungkook, who had been hooked up with a job at one of the coffee shop’s Hobi managed, worked afternoon to night shifts.

This meant that whenever you were going to work, Jungkook was catching up on his sleep and vice versa. But occasionally when you two did bump paths, let’s say going to your restroom, he definitely used those opportunities to try and get under your skin. Each and every time, failing to do so.

But today something was different. You weren’t sure if it was because as you were driving to work, coffee spilled onto your shirt at a speed bump because someone stole your favorite coffee thermo which had a securable lid. This then caused you to be 30 minutes late which then resulted in you receiving your first ever official warning. Or maybe it was because you had to not only stay an extra 30 minutes, but an extra hour because someone’s late night hook up the night prior kept you up and completely unfocused. You personally had chosen to go to sleep than stay up and listen to some girl screaming about how much deeper she wanted it while trying to type up your monthly report. And then of course who could forget the cherry on top? Coming back home to that same certain someone, and having to deal with the accusations that you stole his banana milk.

“I didn’t steal anything,” you mumble, warming up the japchae Hobi had left for you on the stove. Jungkook gets up and opens the fridge door, dramatically showing you the empty spot where his banana milk was usually at.

“Well someone did, and Hobi says it wasn’t him and well I trust Hobi so,” Jungkook shrugs, looking at you with a deadpan look on his face. Sadly, Hobi probably asleep already, tired from what you assumed was a long day of work and the thing about Hobi was once he went to sleep there was no waking him up. That boy could sleep through the world ending, “I don’t exactly think it’s beneath you to steal my things…” he says, each one of his words dripping with venom.

You?! Stealing his things?! When he’s the one who's been taking your things left and right?? If he had caught you on any other day, you probably would’ve shrugged his accusations off, hell you might’ve even taken the blame and offer to buy him a new pack. But right now, you could feel your blood almost boiling. How dare he!

“I,” your voice rises, completely ready to go off on the boy, until you hear a door slam, Hobi coming out completely groggy and clearly annoyed.

“Will you two just,” his voice is heavy, sighing in frustration, “Y/N just go and eat in your room,” he says, feeling like a parent to two fighting siblings.

“But—” you’re about to fight your case, until Hobi interrupts.

“Y/N…” he looks at you in despair, his tone a clear indicator that he wasn’t mad, he wasn’t annoyed, he was just tired. You grab your food from the stove, having to pass by Jungkook as you leave the kitchen.

“Was little miss saccharine finally going to pop?” he scoffs, the two of you momentarily having a stare down, until quickly you compose yourself, the fake smile he knew all too well back on your face.

“Goodnight Jungkook,” you say, before making your way back into your room, peeved that Hobi scolded you and not Jungkook, that was until you heard the sound of muffled voices through your closed door.

If you wanted to get a better listen you were going to have to crack open the door without making a single sound, something that would be embarrassing if you managed to fail. Deciding that you were too nosy for your own good, you thankfully succeed in doing so, their voices sounding much clearer to your ears.

“You know she’s having a bad day, and yet—” you hear the sound of Hobi flapping his arms in despair, “and yet you still make her your target of the day,” he says.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asks, his voice telling you that he was ready to go on the defense.

“Jungkook let’s not act dense,” Hobi says, “What are we in preschool? You have some crush, and think being mean will get you your way with her?” Hobi accuses, which Jungkook immediately denies.

“She wishes,” he mumbles in return, “I treat her like I treat everyone,” he clarifies, almost sounding proud.

“No you treat her worse,” Hobi adds, “if you’re not giving her some backhanded compliment then you’re completely giving her the cold shoulder. I probably only get half of what she does, and even I’m getting fed up with it, so I could only imagine how she feels,” he sighs, “but Y/N is a very very nice person, and since that first day I met her in till even today, I have never seen her get mad at anyone, but you my friend are,” he pauses, trying to think of the best way to describe it, “well you’re pushing buttons that I’ve never seen pushed.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Yeah because her whole act of “I’m miss goody two shoes and can never even hurt a fly” act is such bullshit,” he drops his air quotes, “a grown ass woman acting like telling someone off will add some kind of dent to the image I’m sure has taken her a very long time to build.”

With every word he says, you could feel your stomach drop further and further down. The lump in your throat desperate to be let out. “She probably has you and the rest of the world fooled, but I can see right through it. It’s people like her who will lie to your face, and tell you everything you want to hear because they don’t want to be painted out as some bad guy. And let me tell you people like that are much worse than me because at least I have the balls to tell it like it is to someone’s face rather than protect my own ego, ” he finishes his rant, the veins on his neck faintly popping.

Hobi remains silent for a moment, taking in everything Jungkook said, then pushing his hair back with his hand, an indicator that he was stressed, “Look man, I’m letting you stay here so you can get back on your feet, and because you didn’t want go back to Busan,” he sighs, knowing he’s stepping on broken glass, “I don’t know what happened over there in the states, and I’m not gonna ask about it because I’m sure you’ll talk about it the day you’re ready to,” he pauses, “But what I do know is that you’re right, Y/N does fake her persona from time to time…” you feel your heart drop, while Jungkook’s face goes smug. That is until Hobi continued with what he was saying, “But the same way I’m not gonna ask you about why you came back to Korea a completely cold person, I’m not gonna question why she acts the way it does, especially because it's not hurting anyone.”

“Of course you wo—”

Hobi cuts him off before he can continue, “Let me finish,” he sternly says, his brows knitted, “But as long she keeps letting her feelings build up the way I’m assuming they are, and you keep acting the way you are now then—” he sighs, “There’s going to be a day where the water in the pot is going to boil over and well I don’t wanna be here when it happens,” his presses his lips together, shaking his head at the mere idea, “All I ask for Jungkook is that you try to be a little nicer to her, just for once. I think the two of you would actually be pleasantly surprised at how much in common you have,” Jungkook tries his best to bite his tongue, seeing just how tired his friend looked, “Maybe not even nice to her, just decent. Can you do me that favor?”

Jungkooks lets out a huff of air before silently nodding his head yes, Hobi giving him a small smile in return, “Thanks Jungkook, now I can actually go to sleep instead of hearing you two bicker,” he says before tapping on his shoulder and going back into his room. You, on the other hand, quickly wipe any droplets that fall from your eyes, closing the door before Hobi could notice the crack that was there.

Jungkook sits in the kitchen chair for a while, reflecting on the lecture Hobi just gave him. Hating that the feeling of guilt was beginning to seep in because unlike Hobi, before his little lecture, Jungkook knew that there had been a pair of ears listening in and he knew you could hear every word that came out of his mouth as your little attempt to crack open the door wasn’t as slick as you thought it was ….he just hadn’t cared.

“Just be decent,” Jungkook whispers to himself before turning off the kitchen lights and heading to bed. The two of you lying in your own beds at night, a lot on each other's mind.

“And to think Hobi ended up predicting everything that was going to happen,” Jungkook shakes his head, remembering his friend’s warning to him.

“That’s our Hobi,” you laugh, “always one step ahead, well when he wants to be of course,” you add, a small chuckle coming out of Jungkook’s mouth in response.

“You think he knew what he was doing the whole time?” Jungkook asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Like in terms of allowing everything to play out, you know? Because if he wanted to he could’ve kicked me out from the beginning…” you ponder on his question for a bit, thinking back to Hobi’s role in this whole tale.

“Mm I think he knew but was probably unsure the whole time, you know? Unsure if things would work out the way he set em up to be, I don’t know if he’ll ever tell us but…” you pause, “I think he knew what he was doing from the moment he told you that you could live with us, and I definitely think it was bullshit on his part when he said that he didn’t know what happened to you in the states,” you laugh because you could picture Hobi doing his own research on Google late at night, “So I guess he just knew that there were two people in his life in desperate need of a…” you look for the right word to describe it.

“Reality check?” Jungkook fills in for you, but you shake your head no.

“Mm,” you hum, “No, I dont think thats the way to put it, hmm, how about this…” you pause one last time before continuing, wanting to make sure you said everything correctly, “Hobi had two pieces to a puzzle that needed to connect together in order to complete said puzzle, but after lots of tosses and turns in their box well the two pieces just didn’t fit together anymore. In fact they refused to even try and fit with another, deciding that they were going to live with their new flaps and dents, and ignoring the fact that in order to complete the puzzle they needed to come together,” you let out a small laugh, “and so Hobi took a gamble, and decided to leave the pieces alone for the time being, in hopes that maybe, just maybe with a little bit more tosses and turns they’d realize that by coming together they’d be left with nothing but a beautiful image to show,” a warm smile appears on your face, “Yeah I think I like how that sounds, what do you think?” you turn to face Jungkook who was staring at you with his doe-eyed expression, completely speechless.

“Or was I too wordy?” you laugh, “I reached didn’t I?” you begin to ramble, “Ah I really need to—” suddenly you feel a cold finger pressed against your lips, Jungkook sounding a tiny “shh” soon after.

“I think it was perfect,” Jungkook softly whispers, what could only be described as a loving smile on his face. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, feeling your cold face get warmed up due to the heat that was rising from your cheeks. Reminding you of a memory from only months ago…

March 2019.

“Remind me why I’m going again?” you walk out of the hallway and into the living room, heels clicking against the wooden floor.

“Because you are tonight’s designated driver,” Hobi reminds you, “and well we all don’t fit in Seokjin’s mini cooper so there’s that,” he laughs. You sigh in return, looking at your reflection for the 100th time tonight. “Jungkook, you almost ready?” Hobi shouts from the living room, not keen on his friend’s habit of always getting ready at the last minute.

Tonight was one of, if not the only, rare occasions that both you and Jungkook would be at an outing together, and even then Hobi was always with you two, acting as the facilitator. Jungkook and you usually parted your separate ways the moment you’d arrive somewhere, especially at parties. And so today you didn’t really expect anything different.

It had been about a month since Hobi’s little lecture to Jungkook, and in a way it did have some kind of positive effect on Jungkook. These days he was now much more quiet and reserved, and honestly you preferred the cold shoulder over the constant attitude so you were definitely not complaining.

You were even surprised this morning when you found your bathroom products to be completely replaced by new bottles, including your serum! Of course they had been slightly used, meaning Jungkook wasn’t going to let go of his grip on them just yet, but at least it meant that he had the decency to realize that if he was going to be using them all the time, then it was only right that he occasionally paid for them.

Even last week when you heard him mumble a small, “that was good, thank you,” after making gyeran-mari’s for breakfast, you had to look at Hobi for confirmation that it really happened. Hell, he had even stopped constantly bringing women over, instead beginning to work out more often as you would now hear his grunts come from doing sit ups than from doing um… yeah. It looked like he even had a knack for boxing because you soon noticed how he’d come back home with hands wrapped in bandages or his gloves stringing along his duffel bag. Honestly, it was a little hot, but you’d rather die before admitting that to anyone.

“Ah I’m done, I’m done,” a voice comes out the hallway, Jungkook balancing on his right foot in a rush to put on his left shoe. Tonight he was dressed a little differently than his usual self, replacing his usual black attire and black combat boots for a more club friendly look of ripped blue jeans, black ankle boots, and a black fitted t-shirt. Of course not straying too far from his personal style. The new tattoo he had gotten recently was also in clear view tonight, his sleeve coming along quite nice in your opinion. He had recently even gotten his hair permed, allowing it to grow out longer than what you were used to seeing. It was crazy what a difference hair could make because it definitely made him look … better, in your eyes at least.

All this change on his part, honestly made you feel a little dull, but that’d be something to dwell on for another day. For now, you just wanted to get tonight over with. The faster you got there, the quicker you could leave, and the earlier you could be in bed.

“You took a whole ass hour for this?” Hobi eyes Jungkook up and down. Jungkook is quick to shoot him an offended look, while you on the other hand are struggling to suppress a laugh, “I’m not saying you look bad, in fact you look amazing, but this should not take you an hour!” Jungkook rolls his eyes, combing a hand through his hair.

“Are we going to get going or what?” he says, his cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment.

Once you all arrived, you were quick to meet up with the rest of your friends, everyone having pitched in for bottle service. Jungkook, who had become pretty cool with the rest of everyone, sat between Yoongi and Namjoon, all three of them laughing at God knows what. The bottle they had bought almost halfway done.

You on the other hand, were just watching everyone, the only person besides yourself who wasn’t drunk was Seokjin, and even then he was too busy with his new girlfriend to pay you any attention. Not that you really minded considering she really was a kind person and well who could blame Seokjin for being head over heels. They even shared the same humor, something that was quite rare to find.

You weren’t sure if it was because tonight the club seemed extra packed, or maybe the dress you were wearing was feeling a little too tight or maybe it was the stench of all alcohol getting to you but something definitely fell off. And you did not like it one bit.

“Hey I’m gonna go out back and get some fresh air outside,” you tell Hobi over the music, giving you a small nod in acknowledgement, the boy was clearly very drunk. The moment you stepped out, you definitely did feel better, the crispy fresh air outside almost making you feel as if you were breathing for the first time. That was until you heard the sound of someone arguing.

“I saw you dancing with her! Stop trying to gaslight me into thinking you weren’t!” a woman screams, very much in distress by who you assumed was her boyfriend, “God, I knew I should’ve listened to my mom, you are a pig! And I deserve a man who's going to—

“What did you just say?” he grabs her by the arm, his atrocious grip surely going to cause her a bruise later on.

“Let go of me!” she cries, as he then grabs her by the hair, ready to toss her to the floor and do whatever else he wanted to do with her. You feel your breathing become heavier, watching the scene unfold in front of you, unsure of what to do. You were scared and you didn’t know how to defend yourself, let alone someone else. But you also knew that God forbid you were ever in that situation, you wouldn't want someone turning a blind eye on you, so you did what was only right.

“Hey!” you scream while walking towards the couple, catching the man’s attention, “Let go of her before I—”

“Before you what?” he lets go of her hair, now walking towards you as well. The woman watches you with shaky eyes, having never guessed that her savior would be a woman in black string heels and a face that for the most part was not at all intimidating.

You reach into your purse, hoping to get a feel for either your taser or pocket knife, but of course, of fucking course, on all days of the year it was no where to be found. Nonetheless, you muster up your courage and respond, “Before I call security,” you say, trying your best to sound confident.

He laughs, dramatically looking around to show you that no one around was here to help, “Anyone ever teach you to mind your fucking business, like how a woman should,” you gulp, almost losing balance while taking a step back as he only gets closer, “Huh?! Anyone every fucking teach you that?” he closes in on you, your back soon hitting the wall that was behind you.

“Just leave her alone!” the woman screams in hysteria.

“You stay the fuck out of it! You’re the whole reason she’s in this mess,” he mutters, his words completely slurred and his breath reeking like alcohol. You almost feel like vomiting at the accidental whiff you take because wow was this man just disgusting.

“See maybe if you would’ve just gone about your day, you wouldn’t be here right now,” he makes a ticking sound with his mouth, mocking you, “but” he sighs, “I guess whores just have to stick with each other, huh?” he grabs you by the scalp of your hair, this time not hesitating to throw you to the ground.

“Oh my—” the woman screams, panic flowing through her veins.

“Go!” you yell at her, giving her the chance to escape even if it meant sacrificing your own wellbeing. She hesitates for a moment before running, the sound of her heels tapping against the pavement was one of the last things you could hear before the ringing in your ears became all too much.

You look at your hands for a moment, the stinging feeling almost unbearable as they had taken most of the impact of the fall, along with your knees. A part of you hoped he had left, that he had somehow magically disappeared or that you’d wake up to find that this was nothing more than a nightmare. But it wasn’t until you felt the grip of his hand on your hair again, that you’d come to realize the reality of your situation and that there was absolutely no one to help you.

The man lifts up his free hand, building power for the punch he was preparing to throw, as you could only throw your arms in front yourself in an attempt to minimize the impact of the punch. By now tears were falling from freely your eyes, small whimpers and sniffles coming out of fear. The final words you hear being spat from his mouth were, “you stupid bitch,” and in your head you count to three, waiting for the feeling of his fist against your face. But it never came.

Instead you feel the release of his hand on your scalp, and when you open your eyes you find him on the ground, not completely knocked out but he might as well be with just how out of it he looked. And though you weren’t drunk, you almost felt as if you were because absolutely everything around you was overlapping, hardly able to see anything in clear focus. But what you could make out was that there was a figure, and by the build you assume was a man, now sitting over the drunkard, throwing several punches at him. His goal was either to knock the man out or make sure he suffered every way possible before knocking him out.

You stand there for a moment in shock as you hear the person’s voice, a voice that was all too familiar, “I dare you to fucking lay a hand on her again, I fucking dare you!” Jungkook yells, throwing another punch at the man, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” slowly your vision becomes clearer as you wipe away the tears that had been blocking your vision, and soon you realize if Jungkook kept going at the rate he was, the man was going to be killed.

Quickly you run towards Jungkook, attempting to grab his right arm before he swings again, “Jungkook stop!” you yell, but instead he pushes your arm away, too caught up in his rage to think straight. The drunk man looked as if he was barely holding on, blood now all over his face. “I said stop!” you yell at the top of your lungs, the veins on your neck popping. Jungkook, panting, looks up at you, momentarily stopping. “Just stop,” you cry, wanting this nightmare to be over.

Jungkook looks at the barely conscious man one more time, pulling him by the collar of his shirt so that he’d get a good look of him, “If I ever see you again, I won’t hesitate to—”

“Jungkook,” you stop him from finishing his sentence.

He sighs, “Just be glad she’s here because scum like you deserve to fucking rot,” he says, letting go of the man’s collar and allowing his head to hit the pavement. He gets up from his position and begins to pat his black shirt of any dirt, catching his breath along the way. “You okay?” he asks, intensely staring at you.

But before you could respond, a voice screams, “Hey!” the two of you look up at said voice, only to find a security guard with a flashlight in his hand and his walky talky on the other.

Jungkook quickly grabs you by the hand, causing you to wince at the sudden touch, “Come on,” he says, pulling you to follow him.

He leads you back to the parking lot, confusion evidently on your face. It wasn’t until you turned back to find several security guards following after you that everything began to click together, panic now flowing through your veins. Hurriedly, you grab Hobi’s keys from your purse and unlock the door, your heart beating out of your chest.

Jungkook quickly hops in the passenger seat, his head throbbing from the amount of drinks he’s had, watching as you struggle to put the key in the ignition, clearly in a state of anxiousness. He yanks the keys from your hands and places them in himself, “Now drive!” he shouts, causing you to step ferociously on the gas pedal. Burning tire as you race off the parking lot.

“God my head is fucking killing me,” Jungkook complains, his blood stained hands resting on his temple. By now the two of you were heading back home, Jungkook having texted Hobi through your phone that he was going to have to get a ride from Seokjin. For the situation you two were just in had required an immediate escape.

You on the other hand were driving in complete silence, still in a state of shock of what just happened. Jungkook having to constantly remind you that you were driving, several instances of you zoning out at a stop light happening way too often for his liking.

“I am way too drunk for this shit,” he mutters under his breath, the reality of what just happened beginning to kick in. The queasy feeling in his stomach became more and more unbearable with every turn you took. And don’t even get him started on his throat, which was currently as dry as the Sahara Desert. “Is there some kind of water in this car?” he asks, beginning to look through the car console and glove compartment.

“I don’t,” you pause and sigh, “I don’t know.”

“Then pull over here,” he deadpans.

You furrow your brows in confusion, “What?”

“Pull over,” he repeats, his patience running out.

Not questioning him a second time, you do exactly that, pulling over at the side of some park near your apartment. Jungkook takes in a deep breath before opening the door and sticking his head out, seconds later the sound of him vomiting making you feel as queasy as he did.

“Oh God,” you mumble to yourself, just wanting to be in bed already. But of course that wasn’t going to happen because soon enough Jungkook was getting out of the car and going to God knows where. “Where are you going?” you shout, as he walks towards the park.

“I need water,” he says, “You coming or what?” you contemplate on whether to follow him or not, before ultimately exiting the car and locking it. With the way he was stumbling his footsteps, it was better safe than sorry to follow him.

“BogoShipda!” Jungkook sings loudly to the trees in the park, all of the alcohol he drank at the club still running through his system. You stare at him in surprise, having never seen him act like this before, as he continues to sing.

“Now where’s a water fountain when you need one,” he mumbles, the darkness of the night sky making it hard for him to scan his surrounding area. You found yourself feeling a little scared in fact. The silhouette of the trees and the sound of the wind softly pushing against the branches only making the atmosphere more scary.

“Ah there it is!” Jungkook slurs his words, sounding like a kid at a carnival. Once he’s in front of the fountain, he pushes against the button, the water sprouting out of the fountainhead. You stare at him in silence as he hadn’t crouched down to drink yet, thus confusing you.

It wasn’t until you felt a tug at your hand and the sting of the water hitting against your scrapes that you felt like punching him. “What are you doing?” you ask, trying your best not to sound too peeved.

He looks at you before rolling his eyes, “What do you think I’m doing? I’m cleaning your hands,” he signals for you to give him your other hand, and without thinking you comply.

“I could’ve done this at home,” you say.

“I know, but the longer we wait the higher chance it'll end up getting infected by dirt so,” he looks at you with a know it all expression, and you mumble a small “I guess,” under your breath, the stinging sensation soon enough replaced by a cool one, your hands no longer feeling as rusty.

It isn’t until he’s finished that he takes a sip of water, exhaling a small “ahh” sound after downing several gulps. “Come on,” he grabs your hand again, leading you to a park bench with a small lamppost right next to it, providing a smooth yellow dim light.

“Why are we—”

“I just want to sit for a moment without the movement of a car, just for a bit,” he exhales a heavy breath, manspreading on the bench and throwing his head back, “just for a bit,” he repeats, his voice soft.

The two of you sit there in silence, “Why are you staring at me?” he asks with his eyes closed, feeling your intense stare.

“I’m not—I’m not staring,” you stutter, he hums in response. Silence fills the air again, until Jungkook mumbles something that at first is inaudible.

“What?” you ask.

“I said I’m ˢᵒʳʳʸ,” you look at him confused, were you hearing him correctly?

“Wait what?” you ask again, it wasn’t your intention to come off as pushy nor pretentious but you were just seriously surprised as to what you were hearing.

He grumbles before repeating himself, “I said,” he drops his shoulders, “I said I’m sorry.” He opens his eyes to look at you, his usual smug behavior nowhere to be found on his face, he was being completely serious.

“Oh…” you pause for a moment before continuing, “Can I ask for what? I’m not trying to be mean or anything or act dense. I seriously just don’t know why,” you make sure you add those claims at the end, feeling as if you were walking on eggshells.

He looks at you momentarily before placing his view on the trees in front of you, “For not getting there earlier,” he mutters, as if disappointed with himself, “I went out because Hobi had told me to go check up on you, but,” he stays silent for a moment before continuing, clenching his jaw, “at first I sorta shrugged him off when he asked me, it wasn’t until he asked me second time that I actually went outside,” his voice shakes a bit and you notice that his eyes become slightly glossy, “and then a woman came running up to me rambling about someone about to get beaten up, but the last person I thought she was talking about was you,” he exhales loudly before continuing, trying his best to maintain his composure, “but either way I ran towards wherever she was pointing at, and that’s when I saw you on the floor,” his voice cracks, “and I just keep replaying everything in my head, and I just—” he closes his eyes and shakes his head, “I’m just sorry and I felt like you deserved to know that,” he concludes, a tear falling from his face.

And maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe he just really did feel bad, but to see Jungkook this vulnerable was different to say the least. It was almost humanizing in some aspects.

Jungkook expected you to scream at him, to tell him that it was his fault you were put in that situation. That he could’ve prevented it from happening, that because of him you almost got beat to a bloody pulp.

No, in fact he doesn't expect you to, he wants you to. It’s what he deserves to hear from you. Had it not been for him and his ego, he would’ve gone out there the moment Hobi had asked him to, and you would’ve never had to deal with that drunk excuse of a human being to begin with. Or was the alcohol in his system just seriously getting to him because God did he feel sick.

“Jungkook it’s not your fault,” you begin, but Jungkook who's still looking at the trees, refuses to make eye contact. “Hey look at me,” you demand, tugging his hand in an effort to get him to look at you. When he does so, you continue, “That man was going to attack me whether you came or not because a weak man like that will attack the easiest target,” you state, a small chuckle escaping your lips, “It was no one’s fault but his, you hear me?” you squeeze his hand, “Not yours, not mine, not Hobi’s, not the lady, no one. Absolutely no one.”

More tears begin to fall from his bloodshot eyes, “You don’t get it y/n,” he shakes his head, “You don’t what that man could’ve done to you in that time I wasn’t there, you could’ve been killed for God’s sake,” he attempts to say it firmly, but his voice betrays him by whimpering in the end.

“But he didn’t!” you say, and without thinking you place his hand on your cheek, “I’m right here look! All because of you! Yeah you didn’t get there as early as you wished you could’ve, but you got there nonetheless! And if you hadn’t I probably would be sporting a big old black eye on my face and have one cheek bigger than the other right now. I’d look like one of those chipmunks from Alvin and the Chipmunks!” you laugh at your own joke, and for the first time ever, Jungkook laughs with you. His last first starting off as a small chuckle but the harder you laughed, the harder he did. The beginning to what would be you always hearing his high pitched laugh around the apartment, but let’s not get too far ahead right now.

They say when a human is drunk, they muster up the courage to do something they’d never do sober, but have always thought of doing in the back of their mind. It was often why people would blame a bold text to an ex on being “drunk” despite not taking one sip of their tequila shot, or why some people would excuse cheating on being “drunk” despite knowing it was something they wanted to do for a very long time. They were looking for an excuse to finally do it. And so now sitting here, with his hand caressed across your face, goofy grins plastered on your faces, he felt tempted to just kiss you.

It was weird really, yeah he thought you were cute, in fact there were days he’d found you hot, but anything past physical attraction had never really crossed his mind. To him, you’d always been and currently were his roommate who he found both superficial and performative.

The one who once attempted to hide her strawberry scented shampoo in her room during work, in hopes that he wouldn’t go out of his way to find it. The one who liked her jjolmyeon more on the sour side than the sweet. The one who occasionally made him coffee and breakfast in the mornings, despite him being asleep after a long night of work of barristering. The one who for some odd reason almost never watched Netflix on the TV, but instead would watch it on her laptop on the couch, thus rendering the TV completely useless.

And so to be here, finally appreciating the person that you were after what could’ve been a near-death experience was a bit of a wake up call. And yeah like you said, maybe he didn’t get here as early as he should’ve been, but he got here nonetheless. He smiles to himself, your words having a double meaning behind them.

But for now he wanted to preserve this feeling, because he knew he was drunk. He was so drunk that the tree behind you was beginning to look like it was moving towards him. And so rather than kiss you, he instead decides to simply tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, deciding that if he felt like this tomorrow morning when he was sober then it’d be something worth looking into.

“I’m telling you, if I ever see that man again—”

“It was like,” you count on your fingers, “9 months ago Jungkook, I doubt you even remember his face,” you cut off, patting his shoulder.

“Mm,” he hums, “you’d be surprised how good I am at remembering faces, so when I tell you I’m still waiting for the day I come across him again, I mean it!” you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you sing, “Hey at least something good came out of it,” you smile.

Jungkook looks at you with uncertainty, “Which is?”

Your small smile then becomes a toothy grin, “We became friends!” you exclaim excitedly, “temporarily at least,” you laugh.

April 2019.

It had been about two weeks since the incident at the club. Jungkook having completely avoided you since, and no you weren’t paranoid because originally you thought you were. It first started off with you not seeing him at all around the apartment, which you excused with you two having different work schedules like always. But then you’d notice he wouldn’t even drink the coffee you would make for him in the morning, it being left there on the counter for the entire day.

And in the very rare moments you did manage to get a glimpse of him in the hallway either entering or exiting his room, the boy would completely avoid eye contact with you! But the final confirmation that told you he was avoiding you? He had bought his own shampoo and body wash for himself! Not just any kind, he bought an extra lather version of your own with exfoliating properties. And you didn’t if you could use it or not because, well because he was avoiding you!

It wasn’t like you two kissed or anything! The most that happened was that you two shared a laugh! So then why was he avoiding you like the freaking plague? After a week of thinking about every possible reason he could be, you had given up. You’d accepted that you were back at square one with him, but it wasn’t like you were ever at square two to begin with. And so that’s why yesterday when Hobi told you he’d be going on a morning/afternoon hike trip on Saturday with Namjoon, you were skeptical on how Jungkook would manage to avoid you.

It was also why this morning in bed, when you heard what sounded like furniture being moved at 7 in the freaking morning, you were unsure about getting up and saying something or remaining in bed. Luckily you didn’t have to think about it for too long because you soon heard the sound footsteps coming closer to your bedroom door. As a result, you quickly threw yourself under the covers and pretended to be asleep.

It definitely had to be Jungkook who had just entered your room, the heavy footsteps acting as a signal to you that it was. Your eyes widen when you hear the sound of your drawer being pulled open, “What the hell did he think he was doing? Should you turn around and scare him? Hmm. No,” you think to yourself because soon enough you felt a hand gently shake your body.

“Y/N,” he whispers, clearly in belief that you were asleep. You let him shake you around a little more, just to make your little “I’m just waking up” act a little more believable, “Y/N,” he repeats, and this time you begin to make groggy sounds. Actress of the Year Award : Check.

“Mm,” you hum, but you’re quickly jolted awake when you feel your covers get pulled off of you, “What are you—” you look up at Jungkook, who was dressed in complete workout gear. But what really had you concerned, was the workout clothing he had folded in his hands because well they were yours.

He tosses the matching pair of black leggings and sports bra, “Go change,” he sternly says, only causing you to look at him in further confusion.

“B-b-but-” Jungkook knows you’re about to not only complain, but ask many many questions. Because that’s just the type of person you are.

“Hobi told me you like buttermilk pancakes with extra syrup, but that since yours always come out burnt and his come out too dull, that the only time you get to eat them is if you go to a breakfast restaurant,” you narrow your eyes at him, confused as to where this was leading to, “Well at the coffee shop I work at, we have a weekly Pancake Tuesday and well let’s just say a certain someone has been rated top pancake maker for 2 months now,” you quirk your brow in interest, continuing to listen, a smirk now on his face, “and let’s also say this certain someone has a stack of warm pancakes sitting there on the kitchen island, untouched and certainly uneaten.”

You quickly smile at what he was insinuating, “BUT you can only eat them if you get up, get ready and change in 5 minutes,” he looks at the clock, “starting now.” And in the blink of an eye you were up and running towards your restroom because certainly if that didn’t get you up and out of bed, he wasn’t sure what would.

Quickly you brush your teeth and fix up your hair a bit, curious to know what Jungkook had planned out. To think you thought he was avoiding you! Well he was … but that doesn’t matter anymore! Placing your shoes on you begin to make your way towards the living room, the thought of eating those buttermilk pancakes almost making your mouth drool. That was until you stepped into the living room, stopping dead in your tracks.

Your eyes glaze over everything, blinking veryyy slowly, in order to make sure you were seeing things correctly. Jungkook had transformed your living room into some kind of um … workout center? For boxing? He had everything from the red punching bag, the reflex bag, the speed ball, jump rope, mini dumbbells, and most importantly boxing mitts for some one-on-one training. Everything was an adequate enough size to fit in all into the living room, but not too big in a way that it couldn’t be stored in the extra closet you had in the hallway.

“Why did you—” Jungkook hands you a pair of shiny black boxing gloves, along with bandages.

“I’m going to teach you the basics of boxing,” he presses his lips together, “whether you like it or not,” he says.

“Jungkook I don’t thin—”

“You don’t think what?” he looks at you in a way that tells you he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I’m not really cut out for this kind of stuff,” you try to make an excuse for yourself anyway, but he wasn’t buying it.

“Because you have no experience, which is exactly why I’m going to teach you,” his brows draw together, a stern look on his face as he now makes eye contact with you, “You can’t just always expect someone to pop out of thin air and come to your rescue y/n, what happened two weeks ago was a mix of both good timing and sheer luck,” he sighs while pulling out a taser and pocket knife from his pocket, “and though this is helpful in many situations, you seem to forget to take these with you,” he scolds, “guess where they were the night at the club?” You stay silent, “the kitchen island,” he answers for you.

“Okay I get it, I get it,” you say, “I need to learn how to protect myself without using those,” you point to the items in his hand.

“Exactly, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he playfully pats your head, “so we’ll be doing this every weekend for the next eight weeks, from 7AM till 2PM. We might even throw an occasional weekday night in there if I don’t get out of work too late.”

“7AM?!” you shriek, “Oh no no no, you sir are crazy,” you protest, shaking your head in denial, “No amount of pancakes will have me waking up that early every weekend.”

“Oh come on! The more hours you do, the better you’ll get!” he bargains with you, catching you off guard by throwing his arm around your shoulder, your cheeks going red as a result.

“Jungkook,” you dramatically cry out, ready to stomp your feet on the floor like a little kid, the only thing preventing you was you not wanting the downstairs neighbors to come up and complain.

He tightens his grip on you, “Come onnnnn,” he sings, “I’ll let you use my new body wash with the exfoliating properties,” he teases you, having heard you complain to Hobi one morning about being unsure of whether or not you could use it. You truly were too kind for your own good, cause if the situations were reversed, Jungkook would’ve just gone ahead and used it.

You narrow your eyes at him once again, “More like you’re buying me one of my own!” you demand and he nods in agreement, “Also, where did you even manage to get all this?” you ask, genuinely curious as to how he managed to buy all this.

“Um let’s just say I have a buddy at the boxing gym who didn’t really need these anymore,” you stare at him suspiciously, but decide to shrug it off. You’d ask him more questions some other day, but for now all you wanted was to eat those pancakes!

Hobi opens the door to his shared apartment, exhausted from the hike he just had this morning and honestly ready to just hop into bed and sleep. That was until he saw the transformation of his living room in front of his very own eyes, his skin paling and mouth gaping in shock.

“What the—” he whispers, preparing to scream out your names like a parent walking in their house only to find it destroyed by their teenagers, but before he could the sound of something stops him dead in his tracks. It was the sound of soft snores.

Walking towards the sound, which seemed to be coming from the long couch, a smile immediately appears on his face when he comes to see the view in front of him. You were on one side of the couch while Jungkook was on the other, both of your feet stretched out and touching in the middle, napping away. Hobi personally thought he was dreaming, this being a view he never thought he’d see.

Wanting to preserve the memory, he grabs his phone from his pocket and opens up the camera app, snapping the photo in silence, tempted to edit and post the photo with little clouds above each other's heads and make up some witty caption. But he’d save it for some other day. For now, he was just happy you two were finally getting along.

“Ah I had forgotten how that photo came to be,” Jungkook laughs, looking at the photo on your Iphone screen, “you were tired from working out, while I was tired from having to watch you continuously mess around with the equipment,” he pokes fun at you. Not like it wasn’t true, that day you kept going back to the speed ball, aimlessly hitting it in hopes that at some point you’d magically become fast at hitting it like in the movies.

“Hey, I’m pretty decent at doing everything now,” you flash him a cheesy smile. After several weeks of consistent training and long hours, you were definitely at a point where you could adequately defend yourself from someone ranging from a small petite woman to around a medium sized man. Luckily, you haven't come across a situation that has required you to to do so nor do you ever hope to, but it was comforting to know that if something ever did happen, then you were ready. But, your taser and pocket knife would always be your first go to, no matter what.

“You’re…” Jungkook pauses, “okay,” he breathes, huffing a quiet laugh. Out of impulse you flash him the finger, showing off your freshly manicured fingers. “Aren’t you rude,” he says with a dramatic gasp.

You roll your eyes, “You’re the one who taught me,” you laugh, and Jungkook places his hand on his chest, looking at you with a dramatic offended look on his face.

“Me?” he feigns his surprise.

“Yes you! How could I forget,” you look at him accusingly.

“No I taught you how to stop faking a smile, and to start putting a foot down people’s neck,” he shrugs, “not to go sticking out the middle finger,” he jokes, and you only roll your eyes again, grumbling a small “Mm.”

May 2019.

To your surprise, you had been managing to consistently wake up and work out every weekend with Jungkook, with him even being able to up your usual workout plan at a drastic rate. You’d shed a couple of pounds and to your surprise could even see some muscle beginning to form, but today, well today was your monthly lazy day.

Lazy day was the one day of the month where you and Hobi would push everything off your schedule, from calling off of work, to making sure everything in the apartment was clean, and buying snacks the night before in order to make sure you wouldn’t have to step out of the apartment. It was usually picked the month before by either you or Hobi closing your eyes and randomly pointing somewhere on the calendar, and whatever day your index finger managed to land on would be the day. And well today was that day.

But when Hobi told you yesterday night that a family emergency was going to have to bring lazy day to a temporary halt because he had to drive back to Busan, which in itself was a three hour trip from Seoul, you had already called the day off weeks prior as your job wasn’t as lenient on last minute call offs. The contract you signed stating in small print, “any day off must be requested, sent in, and approved 2 weeks prior to the date said employee is asking for.”

And so this morning when Jungkook entered your room to find you completely knocked out with drool coming out of your mouth, he was surprised to say the least. On weekday mornings, he would almost always wake up to find himself alone in the apartment considering both you and Hobi have day jobs, so hearing snores come out of your room had definitely caught him off guard.

He debated on whether he should be annoying and wake you up and then force you to work out or be a nice roommate and make you breakfast. Let’s just say he didn’t choose the latter. Grabbing one of the stuffed animals that you weren’t hugging, he throws it at your head, a grunt coming out of your mouth after.

“Jungkook,” you mutter, morning voice in full effect, “let me sleep please,” you say, switching to the other side, in hopes that he’d leave.

“No, you need to work out,” he says, beginning to nag.

Turning around again, this time to face him, you look at him with your eyes half-way open, “Today’s lazy day,” you deadpan, his eyes narrow in confusion.

“What the hell is, quote on quote, lazy day?” he asks, lifting a brow. Rubbing your eyes along with eye boogers in the corners, you begin to stretch your arms and legs, not caring if he was staring.

Sighing once you were ready to respond, you then answer, “Lazy day is the one day of the month that me and Hobi take a day off of work to well … be lazy,” he stares at you with an innocent look on his face, “butttttt,” a mischievous smile appears on your face, “since Hobi cancelled on me, now you’re going to be lazy partner for the day.” His face twists in bewilderment.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, go call the café, and tell em you’re taking the day off,” you smile, now getting up from bed.

“And why would I do that?” Jungkook asks, the question coming off a little harsher than intended, but you were quick to shrug it off, already accustomed to the occasional attitude.

“Becauseeeeee,” you sing, “When was the last time you’ve taken a day off, I mean look at you right now! You’re already dressed comfortably,” you eye him up and down, he was currently in work out clothing which for him consisted of an oversized grey sweater and joggers, “do you really wanna get all sweaty and then have to shower, change, and go to work… cause I don’t think you do,” you raise your eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner as he avoids eye contact with you.

His eyes look around your room, clearly thinking to himself. A lazy day huh? Hmm you did make a point, he really couldn’t remember the last time he’s just lounged around and done nothing, as he was always doing something whether it be working out, working, going out, etc.

He looks back at you once he’s made his decision, letting out a huff of air, “Fine,” he says, grabbing his phone from his pocket, preparing to dial the coffee shop, a tiny squeal coming from you.

“I thought lazy day meant no going out,” Jungkook complains while pushing the grocery cart around, following you and your need to go up and down each and every aisle at the store.

“It does, but since Hobi and I couldn’t go grocery shopping the night before,” you grab some strawberry lemonade from the freezer and place it in the cart, “someone has to help carry the groceries up the stairs,” you catch him rolling his eyes, “your eyes will get stuck up there if you keep doing that,” you comment, grabbing packaged ramen from the counter beside you.

“Yeah, Yeah—” Jungkook stares at what’s in your hands wide eyed, “No, no, no! What are you doing?” You jump in surprise, dropping the package on the floor.

“Wh-what?” your face flushes in surprise, his outburst completely catching you off guard.

“Shin Ramyun?! What happened to getting Paldo Bibimmyeon?! Do you have no loyalty?” he scrunches his face up, in clear distress at what he just caught you doing. At first you don’t think he’s serious, this being some stupid joke he was making, but once you got a glimpse of the stare he was giving you, you’d soon come to realize that he was not playing around at all.

“It’s be-be-because,” you begin to stutter under his scrutiny, “these are buy three, get two free,” you lopsidedly smile, an awkward laugh feigning from your lips. He shakes his head, snatching the ramen from your hands and placing it on its original spot before then grabbing his Paldo Bibimmyeon.

“Choosing price over quality, are you crazy?” he mutters under his breath before pushing the cart past you and making his way to the checkout line, leaving you there momentarily flabbergasted.

Once you caught up to him you were ready to tell him something until you heard the sound of someone calling your name, “Y/N?” you turn around, surprised to see Jimin in the line next to you.

“Oh Jimin!” you smile, softly waving at the newly blonde-haired boy, his roots telling you that the hair job was recent. Jimin offers his hand out to Jungkook. Jungkook, at first hesitant, shakes it in return, “You remember Jimin, right? He was with us on New Years, he was supposed to come partying with us last time, but he flaked last minute,” Jungkook slowly nods remembering the boy wrapping his arm around you during the countdown while Jimin on the other hand raises his hands to his defense.

“Even a person like me can get burnt out every here and then,” he laughs, “but next time I’ll be sure to be on the dance floor,” he winks at you, his natural flirty personality making its appearance. Jungkook awkwardly coughs, pushing the cart forward to get your attention back in the moving line.

You feel your hands get a bit clammy, Jimin always being someone you did have a bit of a crush on, never pursuing anything because of your long-term friendship with him. But of course that didn’t mean he didn’t get an occasional blush out of you here and there. “So how have you been since the last time I saw you? It’s been quite a while—”

And just as you’re about to answer, Jungkook interrupts, “Y/N,” he says, nudging you to tell you that it was time to pay.

“Ah I guess I’ll just see you around then,” Jimin chuckles, waving a small goodbye.

“O-oh yeah I guess I—”

“Y/N,” Jungkook repeats, unbeknownst to you, the green eyed monster was beginning to make its appearance. Any longer and horns would probably start sprouting out his ears.

Once you two finish paying and bagging everything, you walk towards Jungkook’s new black Hyundai which he had bought only a couple of weeks ago after months of what he calls “busting his ass” off and using most of his savings up for. You hum a tiny tune while helping him place all the bags in the trunk.

“So…” Jungkook awkwardly begins, second guessing whether he should continue asking the question he had in his mind before deciding to just do it anyway, “Is that like your boyfriend or something?”

Immediately you stop humming, staring at Jungkook wide-eyed, “Oh no, no!” you quickly deny, “No, No, no,” you repeat, shaking your head. The redness of your cheeks tell another story.

“Hm,” Jungkook mumbles, “sorta looked like it,” he deadpans before going to put the cart in its designated spot, leaving you there confused as to what that meant.

After a couple of hours of lounging around in the apartment and binging Narcos: Mexico on the TV rather than your laptop because of Jungkook’s complaints, the two of you were now eating your ramen on the kitchen island, quietly seated on the tall chairs. The sound of Jungkook slurping his noodles filling the room.

“What did you mean by Jimin being my boyfriend or something?” you suddenly ask out of nowhere, the question having been on your mind for a majority of the day.

Jungkook takes a final gulp of his food before responding, “I don’t know,” he nonchalantly shrugs, “you were gawking at him like a schoolgirl seeing her crush in the hallway,” he says, “thought you two had something going on, or at least on your part,” he reiterates.

“I did not stare at him like some schoolgirl!” you deny, taking offense to his analogy, “He’s j-jus—”

“J-just someone you clearly have a crush on,” he mocks your flusteredness, “I see and here a part of me thought it thought it was two-sided,” he smirks.

“It’s not sided on either way,” you protest, “Jimin is just a friend,” you clarify, putting your foot down.

“How do you even know the dude?” he asks. He knew you and Hobi met during college, and that Hobi was in some club with Yoongi and Namjoon which explains how you met them. He also knew that Seokjin and Taehyung came into the picture after some college frat party, but Jimin, well he didn’t know too much about Jimin. Just that he clearly felt comfortable enough to have his arm around you during New Years.

“I met him during my first year of performing at Busan Arts College, that was before I transferred to Seoul National where I’d then meet Hobi,” Jungkook’s ears perk up, several questions now running through his head.

“An arts college? In Busan?”

“Yeah, like a school for dance majors, drawing, theatre, music, film, modelling, sports, interior design, animation, and et cetera,” you smile softly while explaining, “I was an art major, painting to be specific, and along the scopes of watercolors and abstractness.”

Jungkook hums, his curiosity still not completely fulfilled, “So why’d you transfer?” he asks the big question.

“Oh..” you know you shouldn’t be, but for some reason you are slightly taken back by his blunt question, “because..” you sigh, “um something happened that well um I just thought it’d be best to transfer, and well my math skills weren’t too rusty for the entrance exam and my credits were exceptional for transferring and so I just took the leap and left. Met Hobi, we became roommates, decided to stay roommates even after graduating and well now I’m an accountant.”

Jungkook stays silent for a moment, surprised that there was more to you than meets the eye. He would’ve never guessed that you were into painting, “I stayed in touch with Jimin, introduced him to my new group of friends and well yeah, that’s that,” you finish explaining, “He was a dance major, just in case you were curious,” you add, “He now works at a contemporary dance company here in Seoul, very deep with connections in the arts industry,” So that’s who Jimin was huh? Cool... but now Jungkook was much more curious about you.

“Do you ever paint?” he asks another question, completely finished with his meal and at this point only staying for the conversation. It was weird, had it been anyone else asking you these questions you wouldn't have dared entertain it any further, probably finding some way to maneuver out of it. But for Jungkook to ask whether it be from a place of nosiness or simple curiosity, hell maybe even boredom, for some reason you just didn’t mind.

“Um not really, not anymore at least, especially these days that work is beginning to pile up but,” you hesitate for a moment before continuing, “I still have some of my old work somewhere under my bed, probably in a storage box knowing me.”

“Can I see them?”

And just as you’re about to answer, your phone’s ringing sound goes off. The person calling? Jimin. You hesitate to answer, glancing at Jungkook who was staring at your phone, presumably reading the name. Once he does, he looks at you in a way that was asking, “Are you going to pick up?”

You click the green button to accept, “Hello?”

“Y/N?” Jimin asks, unsure if it was you.

“Yes?”

“Hey! Um so I was actually meaning to call for quite a while,” Jungkook tries his best not to make it obvious that he’s listening in, “and so when I ran into you and your friend at the market it served as a complete reminder.”

“Oh what for?” you ask politely.

“Well I was hoping we could catch up over some dinner, and then I could tell you something very important that I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time,” From Jimin? “I was thinking this Saturday like at 7? I’ll pick you up.”

“Oh um..” for some reason you look at Jungkook for advice, but he just stares at you with his eyebrows furrowed, “Yeah sure, why not?” you awkwardly laugh.

“Perfect, I’ll see you then! Byeeeee,” he sings before clicking, leaving you on the line. Did that call really just happen? Or were just imagining things?

“I think—” you gulp, “I think I have a date this Saturday?” you say unsurely, a small dumbfounded smile beginning to appear on your face.

He notices the goofy smile beginning to appear on your face, before letting out a large exasperated breath and feigning his best smile. The forced smile comes out quite awkward, “With Park Jimin?” Park Jimin your college friend. Park Jimin, the successful contemporary dancer. Park Jimin, the one who looked like he came straight out of a magazine cover. That Park Jimin? Jungkook on the other hand could feel his eyebrow impulsively twitch in response, the green eyed monster creeping from behind, ready to make its return.

You nod your head yes, Jungkook now getting up from the chair, a negative energy now around him. “So much for it being a zero sided thing,” he mutters before practically throwing his dish into the sink and stomping out the kitchen, leaving you completely by yourself.

“Weird,” you think to yourself before heading off to bed.

Saturday had surprisingly arrived in the blink of an eye despite the extra hours of working out Jungkook had thrown in the morning. It was almost as if the boy wanted you to be on your date exhausted and halfway knocked out. Out of nowhere, deciding that today was the best day to start working on more leg targeted exercises, as a result your legs now felt like jell-o with every step you took.

“I’m gonna get going you guys,” you announce to the boys in the living room, who were currently on the couch watching an episode of One Piece.

Hobi turns his attention from the screen to look at you, immediately smiling at your outfit, “Ahh look at you,” he compliments, Jungkook on the other hand or silently watches you as you grab your keys from the countertop. “Doesn’t she look pretty Jungkook?” Hobi asks, tapping Jungkook on the shoulder. Jungkook remains silent, which oddly enough resulted in a heavy feeling in your chest. “Now she’s sad!” Hobi scolds, “Tell her she looks pretty,” Hobi pushes Jungkook’s shoulder this time.

“You look…” Jungkook pauses, and for a moment both you and Hobi hold your breath, for Jungkook’s mouth was quite unpredictable sometimes, “You look more than pretty,” he says with a warm look on his face before catching himself and going back to his usual expressionless face and turning his attention back to the screen. Hobi who looks like he’s about to tease the hell out Jungkook once you leave, struggles to hide the big grin on his face. While you, well you could’ve sworn you felt your heart skip a beat.

“Well get going now! And don’t come back too late!” Hobi teases, loving the persona of acting like a parent a little too much.

Was thinking about your roommate regular for a date? Because that’s what you found yourself doing … a lot. From the moment you had stepped into Jimin’s car your immediate comparison was to Jungkook’s own car. Once he started driving, your mind went to how unlike Jimin who drove with both hands on the steering wheel, Jungkook liked driving with one. More specifically his left.

And of course being on a date you expect conversation to be flowing all around even when you’re waiting on the food, but for some reason you had become so used to Jungkook always being silent until he was nearly finished with his food, that when Jimin began to make conversation while waiting definitely felt … odd for you to say the least. And don’t even get you started on what he ended up ordering. Well done steak?! Jungkook hated well done steak, preferring medium rare over anything. And so to say your roommate had been constantly on your mind this whole time was a bit of an understatement.

Currently the two of you were walking on the bridge of a local park, the several number of lampposts and people all around you making it less scary than compared to that night at the park with Jungkook. “So Y/N how’s your year been so far?” Jimin asks, a pleasant smile on his face.

“It’s been,” you pause, thinking about the person who came into your life only months ago, “it’s been pretty good.”

“That’s good to hear, that’s good to hear,” he repeats, the two of you now sitting on a bench, “So I know I told you I had some important news,” he begins, “and it’s something I’ve been really wanting to talk to you about for a very long time,” he insinuates, “and so if you could close your eyes for a moment that’d be great,” you do as follows, and close your eyes, Your heart begins to race but it wasn’t the same kind of racing you felt that night at the park with Jungkook. It was more of a “what am I doing here?” kind of nervousness so to speak. Nonetheless you shrug the feeling off.

Jimin, who was originally supposed to be getting an exhibition flyer out of his coat, notices that you have what looks to be a leaf in your hair. Deciding that it was bothering him too much he goes and reaches for it, surprised to be in contact with your lips seconds later. Quickly he pulls away, staring at you wide eyed. Both of your faces now tomato red, as he struggles to form words.

Eyes still widened, he pulls out the folded paper from jacket, once unfolded it reads, “Seoul City’s Annual Public Art Exhibition with a special performance by Seoul’s Contemporary Dance Academy choreographed by Park Jimin.”

“Oh my God—” you manage to breath out, coming to the realization that kissing you was not his attention.

He scratches the back of his neck, “I um, yeah, I’m this year’s choreographer for the city's art exhibition and well I managed to get you a slot so that you could have your very first art piece exhibited,” Jimin feigns an awkward smile, “You know since you’re a painter first before an accountant.” You, still hung up on what was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life, stare at him in complete silence. Everything barely registering in your head.

“Y/N…” he begins the dreadful pity speech by grabbing your hand, “I um,” he lets out an awkward chuckle before continuing, “I like you, I do, but not in that way…”

In the movies, this is where you’re supposed to feel as if your world was crashing down on you, the part where your heart is supposed to sink in complete sadness and you go home a complete crying mess. But rather than feel any of those things, you instead feel …. relief? Yeah, you kissing the boy was embarrassing, but it wasn’t something that was gonna haunt you for the rest of your life. Maybe for a week or two, but not definitely not the rest of your life.

Jimin wonders what’s going through your mind, the apparent smile that suddenly grew on your face telling him that things were going to be just fine, “I sorta um had my eyes on someone else in our friend group…” and with that he gets your attention because you knew exactly who he was talking about.

“Taehyung,” you say, and Jimin silently nods, a laugh emitting from both of your lips.

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised that you even agreed to go out with me, that Jungkook dude seemed like was going to lunge at me any second over there at the supermarket,” Jimin says, “I thought you two were a thing at first.”

You laugh in disbelief, “Me and Jungkook?” you say, scrunching your face.

“Um yeah, it’s not really something shocking,” Jimin laughs, “I mean you two definitely looked like a couple that day, very much doing um couple-like things. Maybe not affectionate wise but I don’t know there were definitely looks and glances being exchanged. But if you say there’s nothing between you two then who am I to argue?” Jimin shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his face.

“Exactly, who are you to argue,” you dramatically snarl, Jimin throwing his head back in laughter.

“So y/n what do you say about participating in the art exhibition? You know you want toooo,” Jimin sings, pouting his lips. You had forgotten about that for a moment, the embarrassment of the kiss completely fazing you out.

“Oh I don’t know,” you nervously say, you hadn’t seriously painted in such a long time, that chapter in your life being a closed book for quite some time now.

“But y/n—” Jimin begs, “This could be the moment you’ve been waiting for, there’s going to be a lot of professional artists there along with buyers.”

“I just—” something was holding you back from saying yes. Was it fear? Maybe. All you knew was that you couldn't dive into something that you had long given up on, “I don’t think I can,” you ultimately say.

Jimin frowns, “You sure? I can’t hold the slot for too long, and well I was so sure you’d say yes..” You sigh before nodding, confirming that you were saying no.

“Ah okay,” Jimin says, completely understanding, “Come on let’s get you home,” to which you nod, a small sad smile on your face.

By the time you got back home, you wondered if the boys’ were asleep already, hoping at least one of them was awake to talk to, more specifically Hobi, for he always knew what to say when you needed comfort. And so when you opened the door to find the TV still on, but no one in the living room, you were confused to say the least.

You walk towards Hobi’s room, crack open the door, and peep your head in only to find him sound asleep. Did that mean Jungkook was up? Maybe someone just forgot to turn off the TV… with your curiosity getting the best of you, you decide to go Jungkook’s room and check if he was there. With your hand on the knob, you begin to twist it, slowly opening the door until a voice scares you from behind, “What are you doing?” he harshly whispers causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God,” you whisper as well, closing his door immediately, “I-I-I thought you were,” you point at his door, unable to complete your sentence.

“I was peeing,” he says, “Did you not see the light on?”

Shaking your head no, you ask, “What are you even doing up this late?”

Jungkook awkwardly stammers, “I um, I just couldn’t sleep,” he says instead of admitting that secretly he was waiting for you to arrive, just to make sure you were safe. Nothing else of course, not like he wanted to know how your date went… “Why are you going into my room without my permission?” he questions.

You scoff, “You always go in mine!” you try your best to keep your voice down, not wanting to wake up a grumpy Hobi, “Why can’t I go in yours?”

“Because you’ve never told me anything against me going into yours,” he argues, “Just because we’re um,” he pauses, struggling to say the word that comes next, “friends… doesn’t mean you get to go snooping around.” What the hell was he hiding in there that you couldn’t go in?

“That’s not fair and you know it,” you complain, ready to cross your arms and complain like a kid, that is until he flicks your forehead with his index finger.

“Ow,” you cry, “What was that for?” you groan, and he shrugs in response.

“I don’t know I just felt like doing it,” he smirks, “your forehead just looks so … flickable.” You narrow your eyes, quickly flicking his in return, garnering an “ow” from him as well.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that,” he says, and quickly but also softly because you didn’t want to stomp too hard on the floor, you run back to the living room, the two of you now chasing each other around, index fingers ready for some more flicking. Maniacal fits of giggles filling the room as you begin to throw pillows at each other, running around the kitchen island like little kids.

Jungkook, despite being the faster runner, was the one being chased. The closer you got to him, the further you began to reach your arm for his t-shirt, your fingertips always grazing the bottom. But once you finally did, something very unexpected happened. You tripped.

Soon enough, you were hands down on the floor, Jungkook below you, a casualty of your fall. The two of you now facing each other, chests heaving from your game of tag, laughing uncontrollably. Not exactly caring if Hobi, the neighbors, or the rest of the world could hear you.

Gradually, you get off him and instead lay on the kitchen floor right next him, aimlessly staring at the ceiling. A comfortable silence in the air. If someone would’ve told you at the beginning of the year that you and Jungkook would be playing tag in the apartment like little kids, you would’ve told them they were crazy. But yet here you were, heart pounding out of your chest, wanting this moment to remain for as long as it possibly could.

“So…” Jungkook continues to stare at the ceiling, “How’d your date go?”

“It was…” you use the only word that could properly describe it, “embarrassing,” you giggle, recalling what happened. Jungkook looks at you, eager to say the least, to know why.

“Let’s just say I ummm … took some signs completely wrong,” you awkwardly chuckle, “or long story short, I sorta kissed him and well let’s just say he has his eyes on someone else in our friend group.”

Was it wrong for Jungkook to feel happy? Happy that you two didn’t have insane chemistry, become boyfriend and girlfriend, and live happily ever after after like in the fairytales. Of course he wasn’t happy that it was you who went for the kiss, nor that it was who you got rejected, but it was better than you coming in here raving on about Park Jimin, no offense to Jimin.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, an attempt to comfort you.

“It’s fine really,” you laugh, “what’s weird was that I didn’t really feel as heartbroken or as sad as I thought I’d be,” you shrug, “I’m just glad it didn’t ruin our friendship or anything. If anything I’m sad about what he offered... “

“What did he offer?” Jungkook’s jaw tightens, but you’re quick to shake your head and sigh.

“He offered me a spot at Seoul’s annual art exhibition, I guess since he choreographed a dance, he was able to talk them into giving him a spot and well I said no,” Jungkook frowns, wondering why you didn’t take the offer, “I just couldn’t see myself doing it… I haven’t painted in what feels like forever and to then have it be seen by thousands of people, yeah I can already feel the anxiety from that. One bad comment and I’m going to have to fake a smile the whole time and cry when I get home.”

Jungkook scoffs, “Who cares what others think? Screw them. I know that it’s rich coming from me, but if you think those people who may insult you or throw some sly comment to get under your skin are better than you in any way then let me tell you, they’re not. And who says you have to take their shit? Stop feeling as if you have to always put on some fake smile for people in order to spare their feelings and start looking out for your own,” Jungkook sits up, looking down on you. “So you know what you’re going to do?”

You stare at him in silence, murmuring a tiny “what?”

“You’re going to text Jimin right now and tell him you’re taking that spot,” Jungkook demands, “and if you don’t then I’ll call him myself and do it for you.” Now it’s your turn to sit yourself right up, waiting for a sign in his eyes that told you he was purely kidding. “Well what are you waiting for?” He eyes your pockets, waiting for you to reach for your phone.

“Jungko—”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me that you’re not feeling sad because you know you’re going to regret saying no to the opportunity,” Jungkook’s voice raises without meaning to, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I don’t have to see a single painting of yours to know that you’re talented, and if people can’t see that then honestly it’s their loss.” You feel your heart swell with every word, slowly pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans.

Jungkook gets up from his position, offering his hand to help pull you up. Once he pulls you, he walks towards the fridge, and takes two pints of ice cream out the freezer. Your face lights up as you watch him get two spoons from the drawer, “Don’t hold it against me, but I bought these after you left just in case you came back a crying mess,” he avoids eye contact with you while handing you your pint, “But heartbreak or not, someone has to eat these. So come on, send that text so we can watch some One Piece.”

“Imagine you would’ve never convinced me to do the art exhibition,” you laugh, gently nudging Jungkook.

“Mm though it could’ve prevented a lot of things, the good definitely outweighed the bad so…” Jungkook pauses, “I guess it just goes to show you have to go through the downs in order to reap the rewards of the up.”

“Now look who's getting all wordy on me,” you tease.

“I guess you’re rubbing off on me more than I’d like to admit,” he pretends to be annoyed by dramatically sighing but a laugh soon follows.

June 2019.

After texting Jimin that you had changed your mind, you began to work on the painting you had brainstormed for the art exhibition, first sketching it out and now well on your way to starting your quite large painting.

Honestly, pulling out your old art tools and portfolio from years ago was nostalgic, bringing you a genuine sense of completeness. To have a decent paying job, the best of friends, and now being able to practice the hobby you had once considered turning into a career was everything you could ask for. But what made you feel even warmer inside was just how supportive Jungkook was of the whole thing, always buying and bringing back art materials for you to use, including different colors of paint. Though most of the time they weren’t really what you considered the best quality, it was the thought that counted.

After your boxing lessons with him, you’d usually go straight to your room to begin working on it, for the first time since you stopped painting feeling actual motivation and creativity flowing through you. Life was good. Not good, amazing.

That was until today, when you noticed Jungkook hadn’t woken you up for your usual Saturday workout. “Maybe he overslept?” you think to yourself, probably had a tiresome night at work yesterday. Slowly you make your way outside his door, gently knocking on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Nothing. Not a groan, not a “let me sleep”, absolutely nothing. You knock one more time just to make sure, your shoulders dropping once you realize he wasn’t going to open the door. Remembering what he said about entering his room, you decide that if he was having a bad day, it’d just be best to leave him be for the meanwhile.

Things didn’t really start getting alarming until you and Hobi both noticed that he skipped breakfast. His door remaining absolutely closed the whole morning and day, not a peep of sound coming out.

“Hobi, I’m starting to get worried,” your eyes glimmer with concern, “He hasn’t come out all day.”

“I know I am too, but—” Hobi sighs, “I don’t want to pressure him into—” the sound of a door opening quickly grabs your guys’ attention, the two of you silently watching Jungkook come out of his room. The time on the clock reading 6PM, the sun outside beginning to set. Carefully you watch Jungkook come into the kitchen, grabbing nothing more than a water bottle and a couple of snacks.

There’s a redness to his eyes that you’d never seen before, almost as if he had been sobbing. His under eyes were in the early stages of becoming puffy, and his skin seemed a lot paler than usual. You feel your heart sink when the two of you, for a mere second, make eye contact. Quietly he begins to make his way back to his room, but not before you offer him some food.

“Y/N—” Hobi tries to stop you, but you continue nonetheless.

“I made japchae,” you say, “I even added extra mushrooms like how you always like it,” he stares at you in silence, a cold look to his eyes before ignoring you and returning to his room. The door slamming shut once he does. If your heart was sunk already, then it was definitely stomped and ripped into pieces after that.

You turn your attention back to the TV, feeling Hobi’s stare from the side. Suddenly the volume of the TV is lowered and you already know what's coming, “Y/N…” you hear Hobi say, a sad tone behind his voice.

“Hobi don’t,” you cut him off before he could continue, not wanting to receive his pity, “I just don’t feel like hearing it right now.”

Hobi ignores you, knowing you were just putting up a wall as a defense mechanism, “You know he didn’t mean it,” he says, “he’s probably just having a rough day that’s all.”

“Even if he is, why does he still feel the need to just keep it to himself, why can’t he see that he can trust us, that he can trust me? Sometimes it feels like he knows a lot more about me than I know about him—” you rant, trying to keep your voice down so that Jungkook doesn’t hear you from his room.

Hobi sighs, getting up from the couch and grabbing his jacket and keys from the counter, “Put on your shoes,” he says, and you look at him confused before doing as he says and following him outside. The two of you then climb up the fire ladder of your apartment and onto the roof, the view of the stars sending shivers down your spine.

“Okay now sit—” he commands, which you do anyway.

“Why are we even out here?” you question, regretting not bringing your own sweater.

“Because I’m going to tell you a story, and well I don’t want Jungkook hearing us,” he says, making himself comfortable in the spot next to you, “You ready?”

Silently you nod your head yes, and so he continues.

“When I was a kid, I was what you could call ...nerdy … so to speak,” he chuckles, “I had those big ol glasses that made you look like you had fish eyes, I liked reading the Harry Potter books, I didn’t like playing sports like the rest of the boys in my elementary school did, and well in general I just wasn’t like a lot of them,” he pauses to look up at the sky, continuing once he was ready, “Now when you’re in elementary, kids won’t directly bully you, but instead they’ll make little teasing remarks because well ...we’re kids. We don’t know the big curse words yet or what we’re capable of physically. And so as a kid I’d let those jokes slide, I’d let their insults become the label put on me, not knowing the true maliciousness behind it.”

You feel your eyes become glossy, knowing where this was leading, “But the older you get, the more you begin to learn and well soon enough the teasing became full on bullying by middle school. The older kids would make these nicknames for me, and constantly call me them before, during, and after school. Occasionally even following me for a couple of blocks when walking home just to remind me that they had power over me,” Hobi’s voice begins to shake a little, “and well I didn’t know how to speak up for myself, let alone defend myself and so it just became a regular occurrence until on a certain day in middle school,” he pauses, taking a big breath.

“I had been walking home from school that day, and for some reason that day I decided I wanted to take a different route back home, probably because I was hoping the kids who would bully me would decide not to follow me. But boy was I was wrong,” he feigns a laugh, “The route I had taken was right next to the Suyeong River, and well I think it’s important to note that I didn’t know how to swim at the time. I think I personally choose not to remember too much, but one moment I was walking and the next I had my face being pulled in and out of the water, the sounds of laughter being the thing I remember the most from that day,” Hobi closes his eyes, his voice cracking as he continues, “And I just remember thinking how could kids my age be so viscous?” tears begin to silently fall from his eyes, his hands slightly shaking at the recollection of the memory, “I thought this was it, this is the end of the line for me.”

“It wasn’t until I felt the release of my hair and the touch of someone pulling back that the nightmare came to an end,” Hobi wipes his tears with the sleeve of his sweater, “When I finally managed to get some kind of focus on my vision, I’d come to see the boy who was pushing me into the water completely knocked out the floor while the rest of his buddies were running to who knows where,” The scene from the club begins to replay in your head, remembering the person who had gotten there just at the right time.

“And then there was Jungkook, the boy I’d never seen a day in my life , helping me fix myself along with looking for my glasses even after having knocked out that boy with his bare hands. After that me and Jungkook became the best of friends, like actual genuine friends and the bullying had completely stopped. I’d also come to find out that Jungkook was a boxer, and not a casual one, like an “I practice every weekday, weekend, day, and night.” kind of one. He was aiming to go pro, and so he had to put in the time for it. His parents were supportive of it as well, as I think his dad saw the most potential in it.”

Hobi takes a breather before continuing, finding yourself completely immersed in the story, “And so when our senior year came around and I had gotten accepted into SNU, I asked Jungkook what he was planning on doing now that we were graduating. And well that’s when he told me that had gotten an offer to train and compete in the states, where there’d be a lot more tougher competition and where he could really develop the natural talent he had. So on graduation day we had our teary farewell, and I remember telling him that if he ever needed anything and I truly meant anything, that he’d know where to find me.”

“So when years later I received a call at about 2 in the morning, asking if he could redeem the favor he had once done for me so long ago, I knew I couldn’t say no. I don’t know what happened in the states, and I don’t bother to ask him because I know that the day he’s ready to tell me or you, he will. Whatever did happen over there, changed him though. He came back a colder, more rude person, and honestly I thought he’d be like that forever until he started to get to know you,” Hobi smiles, “That’s when I began to see glimpses of the Jungkook I knew from high school again, the one who liked to mess around all the time, and never took himself too seriously.”

“You see y/n, I’m telling you all of this because I want you to know that Jungkook isn’t like us in the way of opening up when he feels sad or mad. He’s used to being the one doing all the protecting and so when he finds himself in a place where he’s overwhelmed by the feelings of sadness or anger, he gives the cold shoulder or becomes someone who isn’t like him at all, in order to avoid talking about it. I think it’s because he doesn’t want anyone to know the burden he carries. To sum it up y/n, Jungkook is the definition of when it rains, it pours … but when it shines, you’ll completely forget it ever rained to begin with,” Hobi pats you softly on the shoulder, “So the best thing you can do right now is let the storm play itself out, so that then you can be there when the rainbow comes back out.”

If only you had listened.

“Ahh so it was Hobi who told you everything,” Jungkook scrunches his face.

“No duhhhhh,” you sing, “Who else could have?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I don’t know, I thought you just magically figured it out on your own,” you’re unsure on whether he’s being sarcastic or not so all you is narrow your eyes at him, deciding to stay silent than make yourself look stupid.

“Mm either way Hobi made a BIG mistake telling me,” you laugh, “because he should've known my nosiness was only going to lead to problems.”

“Tell me about it,” Jungkook teases, resulting in a light smack to the shoulder.

July 2019.

It had been about a month since Jungkook’s change in behavior, his cold demeanor reminding you of when he first moved in months ago. The only time he’d ever leave his room was to go to work, use the restroom, or get his food to take to his room. You had been working on your painting whenever you got the chance, a distraction from the constant concern you felt for Jungkook. You know Hobi said to give it time, but how long would it be until Jungkook decided to finally open up? He couldn’t go on like this forever, could he?

You missed the Jungkook you had gotten to know in the last couple of months, the one who showed you that the tough wall he put up around him was nothing more than an act. That behind it, he was a complete sweetheart who liked drinking his banana milk and watching One Piece whenever he had the chance, the one who constantly liked to steal your things from your room and then replace them with an even better version, the one whose laugh sorta reminded you of Elmo but was still absolutely adorable, and lastly the one who you had found constantly by your side and falling further in love with every waking moment.

Not like, but love. You had come to realize it while you were in bed one night, your only thoughts being thunk all relating to Jungkook in some way. Remembering the number of times this month where you’d find yourself outside his bedroom door, inches away from knocking, knowing that all you needed was for him to open up the door at least once and you’d know everything was going to be okay. Sadly, you’d always find yourself chickening out, Hobi’s words always ringing in your head to serve as a reminder. Jungkook needed space. And as much as you wanted to run up to him and give him a tight hug, you knew you had to respect his boundaries.

So then why was it that today, when you found yourself painting and missing a certain color, a tiny voice in your head was telling you that maybe Jungkook had it… Realistically you knew it wasn’t possible, you had kept track of all your colors from the moment you started, but damn was that voice convincing.

Getting up from the floor, you walk out into the living room, checking around to see if it was there. Hobi, who was currently taking a nap on the couch, seemed completely at peace.

You check his room to see if he has it, but your efforts were to no avail. The only place it had to be was Jungkook’s room. It had to be. At least that’s what you were telling yourself so could finally have an excuse to knock on his door. Making your way to his room, you prepare to knock, your knuckles lightly tapping against the wooden door. But to your surprise the door creaks open, no one presumably in the room…

You could’ve sworn Jungkook was home? You double check the restroom, making sure it wasn’t going to be an incident like last time, but this time he really wasn’t there. The voice of reasoning versus temptation now had you completely torn. You remember the day Jungkook first moved in, and how secretive he got over you seeing whatever it was inside his boxes, and the night after your date and how stern he was about you not entering.

Slowly you push open the door of his room, completely forgetting Hobi’s words and deciding that it was either now or never. You knew you were a pushing boundary that you shouldn’t be, but a part of you also felt like it had to be done. Maybe if you found out what was bothering Jungkook so much, you could help him.

Honestly, you weren't too sure on what you expected when you first entered. Considering how secretive Jungkook was about it, you sorta assumed the room would be all black and have a whole bunch of weird things hanging across the walls, but surprisingly his room looked completely normal. The bed covers were a navy blue color that matched with some of the artwork he had hung across the beige colored apartment walls. The drawers were plain and boring while his desk looked like any other ordinary desk: stacked with random sketches, pens, One piece manga, and printed webtoons. If this is all he was hiding, then it really no made sense because there was literally nothing to hide….

That was until you saw the closed closet door, and once you opened it, you were blown away. For what was behind those closet doors was an entire memorabilia of awards, belts, photos, and trophies which you assumed were all Jungkook’s, newspapers from the states with headlines that spoke of how amazing Jungkook was. Many of them include the words “rising”, “prodigy”, and “the next big thing”. Your eyes try to take everything in all in one go, but it was just so much. There were papers that were written about him even when he was a kid, pictures of his with several belts around his waist amazed you. This was insane.

But it wasn’t until you noticed the newspaper headline of the paper hung right in the center of the practical shrine that the smile from your face fell, as it read, “Prodigy Jeon Jungkook, K.O’d in Round 12 against Brandon Star.” You look at the date, and everything begins to start making sense. The date which read December 1, 2018, only a couple of weeks prior to your first meeting with him at New Years, the churning feeling in your stomach only becoming heavier as you read the newspaper next to it. “Rising Star, Jeon Jungkook, disappears. Where is he now?” it reads, and as you skim through the different articles, the whole memorabilia shrine begins to make sense. Jungkook didn’t have this here for the purpose of maintaining old memories, but for the purpose of constantly reminding himself of what he once was and how he ended up failing, torturing himself to say the least. It’d explain his pent up anger when you first met him, the scar was still fresh.

Grabbing one of the trophies from the memorabilia desk, you observe the glass material and admire its fine detail, Jungkook’s name written in cursive underneath the title. Slowly your fingers graze over it, whispering his name to yourself, “Jeon Ju—”

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice harshly interrupts, scaring you and causing you to jump. The slippery trophy in your hands falling to floors, several pieces of glass now shattered onto the floor. Turning to face the owner of the voice, your heart stops when you find Jungkook staring at the floor, an expressionless look on his face.

“I—” your brain completely freezes, only staring at his balled up fist which was becoming more red with every passing second.

“I told you—” he closes his eyes, letting out an exasperated breath, “I told you to stay the fuck out of my room,” he finally snaps, his enraged voice echoing across the walls of the room, “So then why, why the fuck are you in here right now!” he moves towards you, his face now becoming red in anger. Not caring whether he was stepping on glass or not.

“I know but—”

He cuts you off, “But fucking what? There’s no reason you should even be in here right now y/n! None!” he screams, his rage only furthering with every word. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you stammer to defend yourself. “How would you feel like if I barged into your room and destroyed something personal of yours, huh?”

All you can do is stare at him, never seeing him this enraged before, the sight definitely a scary one, “Answer me goddamit!” he yells, his fist still balled up, holding himself back from punching anything. He looks down at the broken glass one more time, his chest now heaving in anger before storming out the room.

Quickly you follow him, chills going down your spine when you see him turn to your room.

“What are you—” you begin, but it’s too late. Everything happens in slow motion, from the fist being thrown to the sound of the canvas you’d been working so long on cracking, several holes and rips appearing soon after. You look at the scene in front of you in silence, shock running through your veins, and the need to vomit stronger than ever before. Jungkook breathes heavily, staring at what he’s just done, not feeling a single ounce of remorse.

The closing feeling in your throat is one that’s too overwhelming, but the anger you were now feeling was even stronger, “What is wrong with you,” you whisper, tears falling down from your eyes, a look of terror overtaking your face, “What is wrong with you!” you scream, lips trembling as your voice breaks at just how loud you were. Jungkook feels his blood run cold, taken back by your sudden outburst.

“I have been nothing but kind to you since the day we’ve met, nothing but!” you yell, hot tears uncontrollably falling from your hysteria.

Jungkook scoffs, yelling right in return, “Do you want some kind of reward for that? Is that it? Is that all this is? Another ego booster for you so you can pat yourself on the back and say you’re a good person!”

“I don’t need anything from anyone! Especially not from someone like you,” you spit, Jungkook’s jaw clenching at your response.

“Ah I knew that nice ol princess act was nothing more than mere bullshit,” he bitterly laughs, “finally had enough of your whole little treat everyone with kindness moral?” he mocks you.

“It’s not a fucking act, I’m just not a miserable person like you!” you grit your teeth, the temptation to throw something at him at an all time high.

“No you just live in this big old fantasy bubble that’s got you believing that kindness solves all the world's problems!”

“Yeah well it’s better than thinking that being a fucking prick to the rest of the world gets you anywhere, I mean look at where you’re at now!” you yell, knowing you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t care at all anymore. The ice was shattered the moment he destroyed your painting, “I understand that I made a mistake going into your room, but you don’t have to take the rest of your miserable life out on me! You think everyone around you wants to be some kind of punching bag all the time for you?” the veins in your neck begin to pop out, and you almost feel as if your chest was going to physically explode at any moment, “How dare you come in here and treat everyone around you like complete shit all because you’re living a sad tragic life!”

“That’s not true,” he snarls, a scowl on his face.

“Isn’t it?” you scoff, “You’ve done it since the first day you got here, and so let me do the favor of telling you the truth and giving you a goddamn reality check! We’re all sick and tired of it! Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean you get to make everyone around you as well! And let me tell you, I’ll be damned if I let someone like you make me just as rotten as yourself,” and for a small second you see the hurt across Jungkook’s face, and you think maybe you’ve gone too far.

Maybe this could’ve all been prevented had you never entered his room. But then you think to yourself that no, this was bound to happen. This was always going to happen whether you liked it or not. The questions had always just been: when was it going to happen and what was going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back? By now both of your chests are heaving, and there’s a silence that fills the room. Time acts as nothing more than an illusion.

“Is that what you really think?” he says, a cold hardened expression on his face again, “That I make you miserable?” You look at the destroyed painting on the floor, a symbol that despite building and making something so beautiful, all it took was one slip of the finger for it all to go down the drain. Without saying anything, you slowly nod to him, the emptiness in your heart acting as a driving force.

“What the—” Hobi walks in the room, dazed and confused, “What the fuck is going on in here?” He asks, but the two of you remain silent, continuing to stare at one another.

That is until Jungkook breaks away from the stare, muttering a small “nothing,” under his breath, walking out of the room and going back to his own, the door loudly slamming shut.

“Y/N…” Hobi begins, but you cut him off before he even gets the chance, a tiresome expression on your face.

“Hobi,” you shake your head, “Just leave me alone!,” you snap at him, but it comes out more as a plea than a demand, voice completely weary. Hobi stares at you for a moment before doing so, gently closing the door when making his way out. Once you hear the sound of the door close, you squat down to the floor, fingers grazing the painting you’d work so hard on, a muffled sob finally escaping from your lips.

a/n: whew! originally this was supposed to be nothing more than a small drabble, but as i kept writing it just ended becoming this monstrous of a fic that i had to split into two lmao. hopefully i didn’t make the switches between present day and the past too confusing for y’all. part two will probably be up by next friday, once my finals week is over :)) any messages, anons, comments, reblogs, and like are appreciated! see y’all next time! 💞

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