#the only reason I’m stuck wasting 12 hours of my day in this place is because there is quiet literally nothing else for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pradaksj · 4 years

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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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j-j-ehlby-writes · 3 years

Text

Almost (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else

A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.

My Masterlist

Two years ago…

My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?

“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.

“What’s wrong with that?” I counter.

“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.

“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.

“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”

My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.

“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”

“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”

“You’ve never been on one.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”

She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”

Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.

“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.

“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.

How bad could it be?

I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.

Numerous reasons why popped into my head.

Reason one: he saw me and bolted.

Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.

Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.

More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink.

By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.

I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.

My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.

“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”

“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.

Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.

“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”

“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”

I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.

As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”

I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.

We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.

When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…

Present day...

I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.

My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.

Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.

Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.

I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.

“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.

I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”

He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”

I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”

He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…

Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.

But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.

I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.

But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.

From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.

I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.

No closure. No answers. Nothing.

The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself.

A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.

No. Freaking. Way.

I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.

“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”

“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.

She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.

I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”

The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”

I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.

I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.

“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.

“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.

I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.

“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.

I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.

“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.

Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.

We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.

The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.

However I was wrong.

As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.

“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”

I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.

“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”

I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”

“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.

“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”

With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”

I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.

Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.

The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.

On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.

But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.

We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.

Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.

Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.

“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…

No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.

I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.

He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.

I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.

I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…

…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.

I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…

Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.

After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?

As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”

I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.

“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that.

“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”

“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”

“Yes,” he answers with conviction.

My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve.

“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”

“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.

There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.

“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”

Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?

He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”

My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.

I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?

“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.

He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…

I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.

“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.

He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”

There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.

“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”

“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”

So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.

If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.

He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”

My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.

I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.

His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.

The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.

“It almost was.”

~*~

Taglist: @the-marvel-wars @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @princess-evans-addict

#almost #Chris Evans #christopher robert evans #christopher evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans drabble #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #jj ehlby writes

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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years

Text

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Six)

AN- Two chapters in one night... hope you like them! Soft Holmes Brothers scene at the end because, especially after the Eurus situation, the boys truly do love and care for each other! Not proof read either of these yet so apologies if there are mistakes!

Word Count- 4405

The younger brother's eyes had flicked over you both only momentarily, the tiniest flick up of his lips at the side of his mouth that disappeared so quickly it could have been misinterpreted for a twitch.

"Ever the delight, Sherlock." Mycroft spoke, standing straighter, his chin poking up a little higher. Sherlock glanced over his posture and rolled his eyes.

"Oh for God's sake don't start that Mycroft. Had I blamed you for everything I can assure you I wouldn't have bothered opening the door, don't make it so obvious that you care about my opinion of you- it's embarrassing for both of us." And with that he spun around and headed up the stairs to 221B, leaving the door to the flat wide open and disappearing into the bathroom.

"Well that was.."

"Easy? I told you that you shouldn't worry." You nudged Mycroft into the building before ascending the stairs.

"Sherlock Holmes, possibly the only man in the world to forgive somebody for nearly killing him in a heartbeat, but held a 6 month grudge when I took the last custard cream from the biscuit jar when I was 12.." Mycroft muttered, making his way into the flat and sitting beside you on the two seater sofa. John walked into the room from the kitchen shortly after, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand as he said his hellos.

"Figured I'd stick the kettle on when you said you were on your way.. Greg shouldn't be long now." He gave a smile, taking his place in his own armchair. "How have.." He glanced at Mycroft. "How have you been? He won't admit it, but Sherlock's been worried about you." Mycroft took a breath, sending a polite smile in the direction of the army doctor.

"Doctor Watson, I can assure you that I am fine and have been perfectly well looked after." His eyes flickered to you for a moment and then back to the doctor. "I presume the pair of you have held up well as I haven't heard any reports of gunfire towards the wall for a fair bit of time." John grinned, casting his eyes over to the smiley face on the wall that had thankfully been left alone.

"Good. Yeah, uh, things here have been.. good.. too." A blank stare matched with a more thoughtful raise of lips. ".. Very good, actually.."

"Catch." Sherlock came stalking into the room, a damp flannel thrown in Mycroft's general direction which he caught expertly, not allowing a single moist patch to appear on his clothing.

"And this is.."

"A flannel? Christ Mycroft has trauma affected your brain cells that much?" Sherlock quipped, flopping down into his armchair and lazily holding his hand out for his tea that was a mere few inches away from his fingers. John placed the mug in his hand without thought or argument, his fingers brushing over Sherlock's slightly before moving away. A biscuit soon followed, John holding out the digestive while Sherlock partly opened his lips, and shoving the food between them. It was your turn to raise your brow now, but you didn't say anything, instead just nudging Mycroft with your knee to make sure he had seen it too. Of course he had. "It's for your face, Y/N's lip balm is all round your mouth and it's making me feel a bit sick." John's eyes widened as he looked between the pair of you. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled, Mycroft simply sweeping away the slightly pink balm from underneath his lip and folding the wet cloth back up to place on the side. At least he hadn't picked up that you did it on purpose. Before anybody else could speak, the sound of someone bounding up the stairs filled the flat.

"Sorry I'm late, Ms Hudson let me in an- what did I miss?" Greg stood breathless at the door, satchel slung over his shoulder and a carrier bag in his other hand, staring at the apparent awkward glances shared between half the room. You stood from the sofa and headed over towards him, swiftly wrapping your arms around him and placing a small kiss on his cheek to say hello. He made his way into the room and perched on the arm of the sofa closest to Mycroft, casting another look at everybody when his question still hadn't been answered.

"Nothing of importance. Mycroft and Y/N have obviously decided to stop moping around each other like lovesick teenagers and finally admitted they've been infatuated with each other for years.. Now you're all caught up, can we get these papers sorted out so I can be more productive with my time?" Sherlock huffed.

"Nothing of importance? Don't be an arse Sherlock, that's excellent news." Greg clapped Mycroft on his shoulder and shot you a toothy grin. "Declaration in the park was it? Might be a good enough reason for me to not punch you for closing off St James'.." John's eyes widened more, if it were possible.

"You just.. closed off St James'? Can you even do-" The look Mycroft shot John made him cut his sentence short. "Right, yeah. British Government." He nodded, standing to go fetch Greg a coffee (yourself and Mycroft still held a shared judgement against Greg and his hatred for tea) and continuing to ask questions about your newly confirmed relationship. Mycroft sat awkwardly through the encounter- briefly talking about his emotions in front of you was one thing, a whole flat full of people was entirely different- so you gave his knee a quick squeeze and answered for him. "Who bit the bullet then?" John sat down. "Christ I know I mistook the pair of you being together when I met you, so surely these two have been waiting longer for you to get on with it." Greg grinned, nodding in agreement at John's assumption. Sherlock, on the other hand, stay lying on his chair completely unphased by the conversation going on around him.

"To cut a long story short, we were watching telly, I said Stephen Fry was a bit sexy, Mycroft informed me that he used to get told he had a slight resemblance to him, I realised I'd stuck my foot in it and had a ramble.. Went from there. Nothing too exciting, sorry." You left out the parts where the night before you had handled a broken Mycroft to the shower, how he had gripped onto you, how you held him as you slept. You also left out the way he had allowed himself to cry, how you held him while he wept- and, for that, Mycroft was incredibly thankful. Sherlock probably knew though, somehow, in his Sherlock way of knowing things- but he was either too kind to announce it to the room, or didn't care enough to waste his breath.. probably the latter.

"That's disappointing. You've mentioned about fancying Stephen Fry for years, this could have happened ages ago." John teased.

"Nothing compared to Hugh Laurie though. I'm pretty certain that I'm straight but I'd let him-"

"The papers!!" Sherlock's shout cut Greg's ramble off, making the silver haired man jump and grab his satchel, handing out the reports in a way that reminded you of a teacher with test papers.

"Right, yeah. Sorry. Basically the proper forms aren't ready for another week or so so these are just a few basic questions- nothing too in depth yet since I wanted to give you guys time to... yeah just basic for now." Mycroft chose to read through all the questions before answering them, whereas Sherlock hastily scribbled his response to each question as he went along- the smaller details in the Holmes brothers' differences are always interesting to stumble upon. As he held the page in his hands, you carefully leant over to have a glance at the questions, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder and your cheek resting just against your fingers- blissfully unaware at the 2 sets of eyes openly staring at your movements, and the one set that watched from the side. Greg was right, in a way, the questions definitely weren't as overbearing as they could be- but that doesn't mean it was an easy task. The questions targeted Mycroft a lot more than it did John and Sherlock, asking things about scenarios and situations that had occured before they were taken, how long it had been since they had any contact with Eurus prior to that evening/ what they discussed, and a few basic questions about any incentives Eurus may have had, and anything that aided her into her plan. Of course the papers weren't labelled with the sister's name, they were generically printed and typically handed out to anybody involved in any kind of criminal behaviours, but that didn't make it seem any less like these were questions that targeted Mycroft in particular. Mycroft took a deep breath and laid the papers back onto the coffee table in front of him, pulling a pen out of his pocket and beginning to write. In this moment you had noticed the small bounce of his left leg, a movement only ever shown by him in times where he had a particularly stressful day at work, or a troubling encounter with his brother- it was a movement that let you know his brain was running a mile a minute and he felt a little more overwhelmed that usual. Without making a point of it, you move your right hand to rest on his mid thigh, allowing your thumb to rub small shapes into his leg to show your support.

Turning your gaze to the rest of the room, you noticed Greg's eyes on you, a grin on his face that practically stretched to his ears. You rolled your eyes at him, using your other hand to flip him off and smiled.

It had taken just under two hours in total for the boys to finish completely (well, an hour and twenty minutes for the Holmes siblings, an extra forty minutes for John whose brain simply didn't work as fast as theirs to convey the information on the paper). The time had passed fairly quickly, with yourself and Greg not wanting to disturb the silence and instead just drinking your hot drinks and stealing a couple of biscuits from the tray. You gave Mycroft's leg one last squeeze before sitting back against the sofa, stretching a little after finally getting out of that position.

"Thanks again for getting this done today." Greg spoke, taking the papers in and putting them in a plastic folder. "I'd better be off anyway, get these filed in." He stood, heading for the front door and tripping over the carrier bag he had brought in with him earlier. "Shit, yeah I almost forgot." He picked up the bag and handed it to you. "Got your coat, and I may have accidentally read your mind if you had been talking about Stephen and Hugh.." You dug through the bag and grinned as you pulled out the box at the bottom.

"You, Gregory Lestrade, are a bloody legend. God I could kiss you!" Your boxset of 'A Bit of Fry and Laurie' rested in your hands and you showed it to Mycroft, beaming at him. His lips raised at your reaction, showing a small glint in his eye, as you explained how now the pair of you would have to binge watch it since Mycroft had never got round to watching them before. Greg barked out a laugh.

"I wouldn't. I don't fancy being hunted by Mycroft's secret services." Mycroft let out a small laugh himself. And with that, Greg was gone and left the flat to the four of you once more.

***

You hadn't stayed at the flat long before you all made your way to Angelo's restaurant, even managing to convince Mycroft to just take a cab rather than bothering his chauffeur for a 5 minute journey.

"Ahhh Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson!" Angelo greeted, pulling the aforementioned men into an awkward half embrace, half headlock. "Back again so soon? I shall get your usual table set up, grab some candles. Anything for you!" The pair of men awkwardly shifted out of the hold and Sherlock offered a smile.

"Not today Angelo, we need a table for four if that suits your capacities here?" Sherlock peered round at the tables inside.

"Of course, a double date, very lovely to see! Come, come!" He led the four of you inside, you grinning at Mycroft at Angelo's casual mentionings of Sherlock and John's usual 'romantic' set up. You were all ushered inside of a small booth and handed menus, the benches were small but tolerable, your thigh just brushing against Mycroft's, him offering a shy smile at the close contact. "You stay here, I'll get to work on those candles. Just for you, Mr Holmes." Angelo spoke again, clapping Sherlock on his shoulder and disappearing into the back of the restaurant.

"He's.. uh.. a bit enthusiastic sometimes." John spoke, his cheeks burning a little at the memories of previous encounters here.

"Quite. Seems a pleasurable fellow." Came Mycroft's response, glancing over the menu. It had taken no time at all for the restaurant owner to appear back with a handful of small tealight candles in glass jars, and a single flower resting in a vase to lay on the table, taking everybody's orders and leaving once again. Then as the food turned up, Sherlock began to prod at the chips on his plate with his knife.

"What are you doing? Eat your bloody food, Sherlock." John quipped, elbowing the man to his side.

"Don't want it.. whoever decided that dessert was only customary after a meal? I'd much rather wait." John gave Sherlock a look and he spoke again. "Don't give me that look, this was your idea. Who even suggests 'late lunch' as a valid meal time? It's impractical. I didn't eat breakfast because we didn't get out of bed until well past the respected breakfast hour.." 'We'.. you didn't press. "So I had a sandwich at lunch which has ruined my appetite for this. Then I'll be hungry again later, but later than dinner time because of how late this lunch is." Sherlock childishly squashed his chip with his thumb. "It's just ridiculous.. they keep adding new names for new meals at new hours, I feel like we're becoming Bobbits."

"Hobbits, brother mine." Mycroft corrected, the faintest smile playing at the side of his mouth as Sherlock's words sounded alarmingly like the ones he had told you only this morning- it was nice when they just got along.

"That's what I said."

"No, you said Bobbits."

"Boys!" John warned, and you broke out into a small fit of giggles.

"We really can't take you anywhere, can we?" You chimed in. Sherlock just huffed, stabbing a chip and eating it as John gave him a stern look. It was quite sweet, actually, watching them be all domestic. By the time you'd finished your meals, yours and John's plates were clear, Sherlock's leaving only a few chips and a mouthful of burger as he found, after starting to eat the food, that he really enjoyed it and wanted more. Mycroft, on the other hand, had managed to leave little over half of his spaghetti bolognese, making comments about the pasta being far too rubbery, or the sauce being too thin, crossing the cutlery over in the centre and making a dismissive comment about making something to eat when he got home- you all knew he wouldn't.

Sherlock had practically jumped for joy when Angelo came out with a tray of chocolate fudge cake, offering slices around the table which you all, bar Mycroft, accepted happily.

"I shan't spoil my appetite for when I get home." Was his small excuse, raising a hand to prevent Angelo from spouting his claims that he had the best cake in London and that he must have a piece, and instead asking for a coffee. Without words being spoken, John cast his eyes over to you and you offered a small sad smile. Nobody had told John of Mycroft's past, but he was a doctor and always knew when signs were displayed. You had taken an extra fork from Angelo just in case and took a small bite with your own fork, unable to let out the (embarrassingly erotic) moan that had escaped you.

"Christ he wasn't lying, this is incredible." You praised, taking another small piece on the second fork. "Mycroft please give it a try." You offered your hand out towards him, the sliver of cake resting on the tip of the fork's prongs. He looked over at it, his mind telling him to give it a go, at the very least because it had been offered by you, but the image of himself in the mirror this morning came back to mind. He declined the offer and you sighed. Mycroft truly did love cake, and any sweet things, so it was heartbreaking for you to see him turning it away because of the thoughts that ran through his brain. Sherlock had already cleared his plate by this point and stood up abruptly, hoisting his coat back over his shoulders.

"I'm going to go out for a cigarette, care to join me Mycroft?" He had asked, walking past the table. Mycroft creased his eyebrows into a frown.

"Sherlock, the pact? I haven't smoked for three years."

"Neither have I, let's go." Sherlock spoke back quickly, hoisting his brother from the booth and taking the pair of them outside. You raised a brow at John who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I stopped questioning the pair of them and their motives a long time ago." He reasoned, the pair of you turning your heads to see the two Holmes boys outside resting against the restaurant's window.

"I try my best to.. they just still fascinate me." You spoke back, your eyes lingering on Mycroft a little longer before turning back to the table.

"So.. you and Mycroft. Going well?" John asked, his mouth raising in that side smile he often displayed when he was teasing somebody. "I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen Mycroft Holmes smile in a non-threatening way, and over half of those were from since you walked into the flat earlier. I think I can only just about count on two hands times where he's pulled an expression that isn't stoic and emotionless."

"Yeah.. I didn't expect it to happen, if I'm completely honest with you. We've spent so many years just avoiding the subject, but after.. Eurus.. I don't know. It flicked something in Myc that made him regret not doing something about it sooner." John nodded, understanding where you were coming from. "You also don't give him enough credit. Everybody just assumes he's this 'iceman' persona, but it's all a front.. I've watched him laugh so hard that tears fall from his eyes, he's one of those people who throws their heads back and lets out an absolute belter of an infectious laugh. I've seen him get angry at the telly if I came over and some stupid reality show came on the telly.. He shouted at Kim Kardashian once on there for some reason or another. I've stayed up all night with him after he had gruelling days at work, him offering to do the same for me if I had a bad case and couldn't sleep. And then, very recently, I watched him cry." You continued on. "Mycroft Holmes is one of the most emotional, caring people I've ever known, he is just incredibly particular at who gets to see it. You're a doctor, John. You know how experiences in life can shape one's emotional stability, how it alters their mental health. Had you grown up without very many people being kind to you, you'd be scared to let somebody else in too." You finished.

"Sorry.. I didn't mean it to come out in a bad way.. I just meant.. It's nice. Seeing Mycroft acting like that, it's.. nice." He apologised. You waved it off. You knew John didn't mean any harm.

"Mycroft and I are old news anyway.. What about you and Sherlock? When did that surface?" You asked, beaming at the deep red John's face had become as he choked on a sip of his drink. "Oh come on, don't act like that. We've all been waiting for this one to happen since you moved in."

"I.. I don't know what you-" Glaring at him, he stopped himself. "Yeah fine, okay. When we got back to the flat that night we went into the front room and Sherlock lost it. I'd never seen him anything like it before, he just.. he just sobbed into a heap on the floor." He explained, the nervous tapping of his fingers against his glass trying to distract him from his eyes watering. "I didn't know what else to do, so I scooped him up and put him in his bed. He begged me to stay with him and I did. Then he apologised to me, for dragging me in all of that mess, for almost getting me killed and he just wouldn't stop apologising.. So I stole the stereotypical movie move and kissed him. Just kind of went from there. I think that night made us realise that beating around the bush all these years wasn't helping either of us, and the thought that we could have lost the other only a few hours beforehand woke us up." He coughed, his voice breaking slightly.

"God look at us.. All the people in the world and we've landed with the Holmes'" You grabbed John's hand from across the table and laughed. "Makes you feel quite special though, doesn't it? That, equally, there were all the people in the world and they chose us?" John grinned, giving your hand a squeeze.

"Could never tell them that though, their egos would go through the bloody roof."

***

"They're talking about us." Sherlock mused, breathing in the London air.

"It seems people do little else." Mycroft returned, casting his glance to you smiling with John at the table.

"She really does like you. I've spent years deducing everything about her to make sure she wasn't a secret Russian spy sent with the motive to kill you." The younger spoke playfully. "You could have eaten the cake."

"Hmm?"

"The cake. I know you wanted it, but you're going back to how you used to be. Now that you're together, you're nervous." Sherlock's voice was nonchalant, simple observations, which didn't ease his older brother at all. "It's pointless. She's entirely infatuated. I thought the childish doe eyes disappeared after being attracted to somebody for a few weeks, but she still looks at you like I look at a triple homicide."

"Resulting to similes now?"

"You need to stop that too. Dismissing it whenever somebody is trying to be... kind... to you. That's just annoying and not a good defence mechanism for insecurities, like a mask made of clingfilm, it's too obvious." Mycroft didn't speak in turn and Sherlock huffed. "She worries for you, she seeks for you to be comfortable in trialling situations, her eyes do that little light up thing every time you open your bloody mouth. Since standing here she's looked over 3 times and smiled to herself seeing you stand here with me without us arguing. I caught her 4 times on the way to the cab from the flat looking at your arse and your legs in that damned suit. You don't have to worry about anything with her- the way she looks at you is so lovesick it makes me queasy."

"And you know this how, Sherlock? Or is this another one of your cruel schemes to embarrass me?"

"Because, Mycroft, it's the same way you've looked at her for as long as I can remember you knowing her. Jesus, Mycroft, I haven't seen you smile this much since we were children.. before we did everything that led us to believe we were any better than anybody else, that we deserved more than sentiment. And it's the same way I.. the same way I look at him." Sherlock's eyes now locked onto John.

"Always did say there would be a happy announcement between the pair of you. Good to see I'm correct once again." Mycroft mused. He remained stoic, but his brother's words were whirring in his brain, leaving him in a state of shock at the curly haired man even displaying this form of kindness towards him.

"You told me once that caring isn't an advantage. But these last few days, no matter how short it has been, have already led me to believe that caring is perhaps the greatest advantage of them all. And I strongly believe you feel the same way, no matter what bull you make up to argue against it." The pair of them watched through the window once more, the image of you and John laughing at whatever joke had been shared between you. "We both have wasted many years fighting against this, and I don't want you to screw yours up. Y/N will remain by your side and feel the same way towards you, whether you wear a bin bag, lose your job, put on weight- she's in it for the long haul. She's spent so many years pining after you that she deserves the best from you and to be happy. And you, brother mine, have been through enough with not good people; you deserve the happiness too." Sherlock trailed the last sentence. It's incredibly rare for them to show it, but Sherlock and Mycroft would always have a particularly close bond, they've been through too much together not to- and so times like this were precious to them. Mycroft simply let out a small cough, reaching his arm over to rest on his younger brother's shoulder to give it a quick squeeze, before patting it twice and letting his arm rest back by his side.

"Sentiment appears to be dwelling well on you." Mycroft spoke, heading back to the door of the restaurant to head inside, holding it open for his brother.

"As it is on you, brother. As it is on you."

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.09

11/12/2020

Stirrings

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 6,297

Warnings: language, very light smut, sexual situations, weddings, marriage, pregnancy

A/N: So this is it. This is the one. I hope y’all like it. This is where plot rears its head. Or begins to anyway. I’ll leave y’all to enjoy it. If you do happen to like it and reblog it, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT REPOST my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome and appreciated!

Dinner with the Warriors Three is eventful.

Several plates have already been knocked to the ground. Goblets and large mugs of mead and ale drop to slosh across the floor in the ruckus.

With a small yeep you duck just in time as a large sturdy turkey leg dripping with honey glaze and butter flies towards you and then hits the wall behind you.

“Hey!” Thor disapproves at Fandral and Hilde, reaching out towards you with his large hand.

He curls his fingers at you, calling you to him and you rise from your chair. You gather your skirts and scurry towards him in obedience. He wraps his arm around your waist and leads you to sit in his lap, turning slightly sideways so that he can shift to protect you with his body if he needs to.

“Watch where you’re throwing things!” He chastises but is ignored.

Volstagg had also cried out when Thor had, and their voices all mix together.

“Hey!” He rises from his seat so abruptly that it falls back and clatters noisily onto the floor. “Stop wasting the best parts!”

From the spot beside you where the turkey leg had clearly been aimed at but missed, Loki wipes at the juices that sprinkled his face as it flew by.

Heimdall chuckles lightly, his deep timber made to rival Thor’s you feel. Hilde also laughs, reaching out quickly to take Fandral’s plate from him before he can grab another piece of food.

“If you couldn’t take the comeback, why did you mouth off?” Loki asks Fandral, other than his wiping, he seems unphased.

“It was a simple question, Loki.” Fandral counters.

“No, it was a jab.” Sif is actually smiling, and you’ve taken to staring at her every few seconds.

She’s not paying attention to you in the moment, so you sitting on Thor’s lap is not her focus. It gives you lots of time to just admire her beauty. She’s so freaking pretty!

She’s also very much a part of this group. You can see where she fits now and she’s indispensable to these lovely Asgardians.

“All I did was ask him if he has a girl!”

“That’s assuming a woman is what he wants.” Hogun rationalizes, reaching to grab the large roll on his plate.

It’s not a normal roll. It’s made differently than what you know. It tastes amazing, but it has flavors that you’ve never had on Earth before.

“Ooh, that’s a good point.” Hilde snaps her fingers, pointing at Hogun before leaning against the table, arms folded and pushing her empty plate away. “So, what is it, Loki? Male? Female? Non-gendered?”

Loki looks highly aware of the fact that everyone seems to be watching him now. Even you find yourself looking at him, waiting to learn more about your brother-in-law to be.

He finishes wiping his face, dropping his napkin on the table before he leans back, placing his hands on his thighs. He meets Hilde’s gaze and gives her a narrowed eye grimace as he answers, “I don’t have a preference.”

The table seems to deflate, all of them disappointed for some reason.

“Well, that’s gonna make it harder to find you someone.” Volstagg acknowledges.

“It means we’ll have a wider pool to choose from.” Heimdall reasons.

“Loki would need to learn to put others before himself before he can even think about being with someone.” Sif contributes, bringing down the pleasant atmosphere a little.

You can feel Thor tense underneath you, your hands hurrying to give his wide shoulders a squeeze where you’ve got hold of them as he looks to his left at his lifelong friend.

“Sif…” He pleads.

Suddenly, this moment seems endless.

Everyone is silent. Across the table, you see Loki looking a little wounded. Like he’s been punched in the chest. Not hard, but enough to make him flinch.

You don’t like it. You really don’t like it.

You look at Sif with new eyes. And you speak before you can stop yourself. The anger that builds in your chest bubbles up and it’s bitter. It tastes like acid.

Until this moment, you hadn’t realized how much her unwelcoming behavior towards you has bothered you.

“You’re joking right?”

She looks at you.

Thor’s arm loosens around your waist, his hand finding a spot on your hip.

She doesn’t seem to have anything to say, but you have plenty.

“I guess your rudeness doesn’t stop at me, but apparently extends to even your lifelong friends.” You’re seething, chest burning, head getting fuzzier as the adrenaline from confronting her getting the better of your senses.

“Cherub…” Thor whispers, not to stop you, but with worry.

A realization overcomes his face as it softens, and he sees how much her refusal to be nice has hurt you.

“Just so you know, since the moment I met Loki he’s been nothing but kind to me. He’s been friendly and supportive and helpful and already the best brother-in-law I could ask for. I was seriously excited to meet you and get to know you because I’d heard a lot about your accomplishments but since I got here you’ve been nothing but abrasive, dismissive, and inappropriate with the way you act around Thor when you think I’m not watching.

“As far as I’m concerned, the only one that needs learn to put others before themselves at this table, is you. And if I could have it my way, I would ask you not to come to the wedding on Thursday but I know Thor wants you there so, as your Queen, I’m ordering you to come, whether you like it or not.”

The room is silent. Even Vostagg has frozen, mid-chew.

You get up, Thor’s hand stuck to your hip as if glued there, but he doesn’t stop you. Everyone else stands, even Hilde and Sif. Though she does it more slowly, chewing on the inside of her lip.

“I can’t eat anymore.” You huff. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

You make for the door but stop as you reach it, hand placed on the handle before you turn back towards the table and find Loki.

“For what it’s worth, anyone you choose would be lucky to have you.” With a final firm nod, you shove the doors open and stomp your way back to your room, taking the stairs as quickly as you can while hiking up your dress so that you don’t trip.

Even though your hands are shaking, your heart pounding, you feel much lighter now.

In your room, you strip the day away, dress left in a mess just inside the door. Your shoes just after. Stockings. Bra. Underwear at the bathroom doorway.

The water is already steaming hot when you walk into it, a sigh of relief hissing through your lips as you dip down into the water until your shoulders are submerged.

You’re not sure how long you steep there in the water—it could be seconds or hours—before you finally hear the bedroom door open.

“Y/N?” The voice pulls you from your empty space, that soundless pit in your mind where you go when you drift off into non-linear tangents of thought.

It’s the space where most of your stories come from. A space no one but you knows about.

“Leaving me breadcrumbs, cherub?” Thor asks, his voice lower, still out in the room. “This trail is intriguing.”

Half of your lip curls up in a smile, you keep your back to the bathroom door, intent on keep your mouth shut as long as you can so that you can hear what he really thinks about what you’ve just done in that dining hall.

“Dress. Stockings. Brassiere.” He clears his throat, and when he speaks again, his voice cracks. “Underwear.”

He’s in the bathroom doorway now, and you hear the hiss of all of your clothing fall back to the ground as he drops it at the sight of you.

“Hello. Might I join you?” He’s actually asking and will go away if you tell him he can’t.

Because you still don’t want to speak, you look over your shoulder at him and give him a gentle nod.

You keep watching him, staring at him as he reaches up and unhooks the straps on his armor. He moves to the long wooden slat bench along the wall and places it there. He follows it with his black shirt, then he sits and pulls off his shoes.

As he takes off each piece, he looks up at you, meeting your eyes and watches you for any give in your mood.

Whenever he’s not looking at you, you admire the bend and shift of his muscular torso. There’s a power in his body that you’re familiar with. Not strength. That’s not what you mean.

He’s got muscles, sure, and he can lift probably tons. You’ve seen the clips of him in fights around Earth.

What you’re thinking about is the power underneath all the appealing surface. He radiates it and it’s intoxicating. It makes you feel safe when he’s with you.

With his boots placed aside, he stands and unbuckles the leather belt around his waist. He opens the front of his pants and pushes them down.

No underwear.

You’re seriously tempted to smile at the fact that he’s been going commando all day long. You resist.

He throws them behind him then sits on the edge of the pool before lowering himself into the heated water.

He sighs in comfort but doesn’t give himself time to relish in the feeling before he’s moving towards you, the sloshy water splashing his golden body.

You wrap your arms around yourself just as Thor wraps his around you too. He pulls you close, smooshing your breasts against his chest.

He dips down to kiss your bare shoulder, then your neck, side of your chin, then finally a small and incredibly irresistible peck to your lips that almost cracks you. You almost throw yourself on him.

Instead you pucker right back, kissing him because you can’t resist him completely.

He really does have you wrapped around his finger.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I have worried how you would handle yourself in this position of authority that you’re marrying into.” Thor admits, tracing the curve of your shoulder with his large fingers.

He dips down again, kissing it then nips at it, teeth grazing lightly to pull on the skin.

It makes you shiver.

“You should give me some orders too.” Thor mumbles, his voice thick with arousal.

You really wanna laugh. Instead you keep silent and after a few moments, he pulls back to look at your face. Neutral. Eyes observant. No sign as to what you might be feeling.

The atmosphere grows more serious. Even though he’s got you squeezed to him, when he meets your eyes, you can see the worry there.

“Why didn’t you say anything before if you were that upset about Sif?”

“I did say something.” You remind him. “And I’m sure Loki did too. And Hilde.”

“No,” Thor shakes his head. “All of you said that she was jealous and unwelcoming. You are the only one that could have told me that it was really bothering you.”

And he’s right. You hadn’t exactly acted like it bothered you except a passing wish that you could get to know her.

With a shrug you shake your head.

“I didn’t realize how much it was bothering me until tonight. She wasn’t being awful or anything. She just hasn’t said much to me.”

He’s silent for a bit, your eyes on the water by his elbow.

His hands find the sides of your face and gently he coaxes your gaze up to meet his own.

“I hate the thought of you suffering in silence.” He says, deep voice soothing the knots in your chest. “Promise you will tell me if anything or anyone hurts you. I will try my best to make it better.”

“You can’t fight my battles for me, Thor. I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, I can see that. But you don’t have to. I’d like to be useful if it’s possible. This might sound a little pathetic, but I’d very much like you to make me feel needed.” He pouts, and even though he’s playing with you, his words are real.

He doesn’t like being caught off guard. Not when it comes to things he should know. And by the looks of his face, the way that his playful pout turns into a real downturn to the corners of his lips, you fall under that category of things he should be aware of.

You nod, head barely moving underneath his heated hold.

He leans down to kiss you, just a loving peck before he wraps his arms around you to squish you against his body again and he tilts his head, urging your lips open with the tip of his tongue. He breathes in, a small moan pulled out of him as you swirl your tongue around his, tasting him. The honey in his ale still fresh.

He pulls back, eye still shut as he groans again. “Mmph, I could kiss you all day long and do nothing else.”

You know what he means. There’s something about these kisses, so charged. They feel amazing, toe curling.

Whatever chemistry the two of you have is all consuming and you don’t mind.

“Also, in case you think it went without my notice, I want to thank you for standing up for Loki.” Thor pushes your hair away from your face, leaning down to press another quick peck to your lips. “It means a lot to me that he has someone else on his side. After everything that’s happened, it’s hard for some people to see that he’s changed.”

“He’s been very nice to me. I didn’t like Sif talking to him like that. I know that I probably stepped on her toes. She’s known him longer than me, but the look on his face after she said what she said…” It’s making your blood boil all over again.

“Loki has done many things to warrant her mistrust, but her words were cruel. I’m very grateful you spoke on his behalf. I’m certain it meant a lot to Loki too.”

You untangle your arms from between your bodies, wrap them around him under his arms and lay your head against his chest.

“He’s my family now.” You sigh. “Both of you.”

It’s your new truth. You’re not alone anymore!

“I will fight for both of you if anyone hurts you.”

You feel it so fiercely that you squeeze him, and he actually groans at the gesture. You know that you can’t hurt him though, and he’s just humoring you.

He chuckles against your hair, kissing your head as he holds you back.

“I’m so glad you chose to come meet me.” Thor whispers, running his hand along the curve of your back.

“I’m so glad they forced me to come meet you.”

Both of you laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

The planet is nearly decimated.

It’s a shell of what it once was, but dark still. The cold bites harshly.

The rough terrain is snow-covered. Ice grows from the ground into tall towers that rise hundreds of feet into the frigid air.

In a crater, full of crumbling structures that once stood tall and menacing, is the entrance to a cave. The darkness dips down and winds through the ice, unstable and shifting, with cracks along ground walls and ceiling.

Despite the bitter cold, a small green light begins to glow down in the darkest pit.

The cave suddenly stretches, a ginormous cavern hundreds of feet in Jotunheim’s depths.

Through the darkness paces a figure, small in stature but glowing an almost ethereal jade. The light pulsates, wrapped around a female form. Her body is perfection. The Venus made flesh.

Her long blonde tresses cascade along her back, a golden river flowing past her waist. On her head a smooth emerald helm with twin peaks rising up like horns on either side of her brow.

Her tunic, well worn in the exact same shade of green as her helm as is the rest of her outfit. Over a pair of leather pants, an armored soft strap skirt laces up along her hips, and tall boot with a helix design in line stop just above her knees.

Her bodice is laced at her front, leather ties tied tight to keep out the cold. Her strong yet slender shoulders are wrapped in a long green cape, gray bear’s fur lining the neck for warmth. It sweeps around her as she carves a line in the ice with her restless movements.

From the darkest corner of the large cavern comes a deep but weakened voice.

“Cease your pacing, Asgardian. Before I stop it for you.”

His words are followed by a wheezing breath, a cough, and a deep slow sigh.

The woman stops, crossing her arms across her chest as she stares into the dark.

“How much longer must we wait? I can feel him slipping away from me. His eyes have wandered, yet again.” She drops one arm, slapping at her cloak in frustration.

“Your obsession with Odin’s whelp escapes my understanding.” The deep voice breathes in again, wheezes as he breathes out. “Remember my intent, witch. I will kill the God of Thunder.”

“Yes, I heard you the first million times you told me. I do not need the constant reminder. Thor will die.” She sighs, turning to look towards the entrance of the cavern, in search for the handsome golden face that rests in her heart. “You can kill him, as long as he dies loving me and only me. Thor is mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s your fifth time zoning out, your mouth slightly open as you stare at the reflection in your new vanity shoved into Thor’s spacious room.

“Your Highness?” Estrid nudges you, leaning forward to try and catch your attention.

“Hm?” You jump, turning to look at her with wide eyes.

She smiles at you kindly, knowing the source of your distraction. It isn’t hard to guess.

“What color rose shall we put in your hair?”

“Um…” You look down at your wedding dress, carefully spread out around you and held in place by your new set of intricate silver armor. It was cold when they’d put it on you, the metal touching your bare shoulders, but it’s padded so that it doesn’t hurt.

The design is very practical. It’s real armor that you’re expected to wear for official military events or if there is an actual attack on the palace. You’re going to be a warrior people’s Queen and a warrior husband’s wife. The armor is made for you to use.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t also beautiful.

Thor made very specific requests to its pieces. Along the sides around your stomach is a delicate floral design. The shoulder pieces, not to be worn today because it makes you look gentler and more refined, are also decorated along its edges with vines of smaller flowers and at one outer corner of each piece is a blooming rose with its petals spread wide.

Along your wrists and forearms you wear bracers, just as beautifully decorated and there to help hold your sleeves down.

“Thor’s armor will be black?” You check, trying to remember what he’s supposed to wear.

“Actually, Your Highness, his Majesty’s armor will be silver, to match your own. With gold highlights along his breast plate. His cape will still be red. That is his best color.” She smiles, her hand resting by the collection of roses in a wooden box that had been filled this morning from the gardens.

“Then we’ll go with the red rose. The one in full bloom, and this lighter one, in half bloom.” You touch each one gently, caressing the velvety petals in admiration of their pretty color.

“An excellent choice, Your Highness.” Estrid quickly goes to attaching them, adjusting your hair on the top of your head and pinning them into place.

“Are you almost ready?” Hilde’s voice filters in, the door now wide open as she stands there staring in at you.

Her eyes are bright, her mouth open in awe.

“Does it look bad?” You worry, reaching up to touch your hair then reaching down to fuss with the armor.

“You look…” Hilde stops, at a loss.

“Beautiful.” David provides, a calm smile stretched across his lips.

“You made it!” You gasp, getting to your feet just as Estrid finishes with the flowers and rush to him.

He hugs you, laughing as you squeeze him tight.

“Ouch,” he says, teasing you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You pull away and he laughs a bit more loudly. “I thought you weren’t going to make it back in time. Where did you go?”

“I had a favor to do for your husband to be.” David explains, then pushes you back so that he can take a better look at you. “You are really, absolutely beautiful.”

That makes you feel better. More confident.

“He’s so right.” Hilde agrees, nodding with what looks like joy in her eyes.

“Thanks, Hilde. David? You are going to walk me down the aisle, right?”

David’s face goes blank. He looks to Hilde and then to Estrid before he meets your eyes again.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you!” You laugh, giving his arms a squeeze. “David, you’re the closest thing I have to family in my life. You’ve been a real father to me through all of this and everything before. Of course, I want you to walk me down the aisle.”

David’s eyes slowly grow misty, his smile growing wide by the moment before he pulls you back into a gentle hug.

“It would be my honor.” David whispers just for you.

“Ooh, none of that.” Hilde interrupts, reaching out to pull the two of you apart. “No crying, you’ll ruin your makeup and Estrid will have to do it again.”

You all laugh. Sweet chuckles of impending excitement as the hour that will change your life grows closer.

You seriously cannot believe that in less than two hours, you’ll be married. More importantly, you’ll be the queen of an entire people.

Most of them have been so welcoming. They’ve eaten up any information they could get on you and you’ve been so grateful for their kindness.

“Hey guys? Anyone here?” A soft lilting voice flitters in from the doorway and you turn to see who posses such a sweet sounding tone.

What you find, you aren’t expecting.

Completely contrary to the small and gentle voice stands what looks like a large collection of massive rocks piled up in the shape of a burly man.

There is a definition at the end of its arms of hands, feet without shoes at the ends of its legs. And at the center of the large mass that makes up its head is a kind looking face. Pure eyes. And he’s got it all topped with a slick black suit and a light blue tie.

He lifts his massive hand and waves it. It’s a minute movement as he stands up straighter with all eyes in the room on him.

“You’re a Kronan.” You realize, pointing at him rudely.

“Yeah, my name is Korg. Thor’s best friend and best man. Even though I’m not really his best man, since there is no best man in Asgardian weddings which is a shame since I would probably most definitely have been his choice. After Loki of course. That’s his brother. And probably Heimdall. His other best friend. And the Warriors Three. But definitely before Miek.”

You chuckle once, a slightly surprised and nervous laugh before you reach out towards him to shake his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Korg. Thor was telling me about you yesterday. I’m Y/N. I’m so glad we can finally meet.” You wait patiently as his face goes slightly slack for a moment then he eagerly reaches out to take your tiny hand in his huge one.

He barely closes it around your own but shakes it with enthusiasm.

“Thor said you were a pretty lady. He failed to tell me about how nice you are. You’ll have to come over some time. To my house? We can play some Fortnite. I’ll even let you take the mythic.” He spouts, and you laugh again, just once.

“Oh. Okay. That’s so nice of you.”

He takes his hand back and Hilde finally moves to stand beside you.

“Did you just come to meet Her Highness? Or do you have a message from Thor?”

“Oh, yes. I nearly forgot. Thank you, Valkyrie. The car is here and ready to take you on the drive through the city?”

“Drive through the city?” You turn your confusion to Hilde and she waves to Estrid for your cloak who then rushes away to fetch it.

“It’s a quick procession through the main roads. Since the city temple hasn’t been built, this will be the only way for the people to see you. Normally they would come to the temple to be witness to the ceremony.” She explains.

“So, that’s why we’re having the wedding and the recep-the feast in the throne room.” You realize, nodding as Estrid lays your cloak over your shoulders then clips the thick red cape around you.

“That’s right.” Hilde smiles. “Is Thor already down there?”

“Yep. He said to ask you to be quick.” Korg nods.

“Why?” You wonder, turning that twist of confusion back to him.

“Uh, he said he’d like to have his wife already and be on his honeymoon. Then he said some other things that I don’t feel comfortable repeating about curves and skin, which I don’t have, by the way and I find it a little cruel of him to mention how good it tastes, especially that of his pretty lady. Felt a bit like bragging to me. Kind of rude, to be honest.”

“Thank you, Korg!” Hilde interrupts as you press your hands to your cheeks and feel them burn.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You wheeze.

“Why don’t you head down and let him know we’re on our way? Tell Armod to prep the heater. It’s cold today.”

You know she’s only assuming for your benefit. She doesn’t feel the bite of the cold here like you do.

Korg lumbers off without another word while you turn to David.

“You’ll be here when I get back?” You worry, for some reason desperate to make sure he’s here to walk you down the aisle.

Now that you have that image in your head, you don’t want to let it go.

You hadn’t thought about having a husband since you were a little girl but even then, you’d imagined a father walking you down the aisle. You’d never thought you would get the chance. And you have it now.

“Of course.” David puts his phone down and reaches out to take hold of your elbow. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

The next hour is a rush of movement. Gentle pushing and tugging and guiding from Hilde, Loki, and finally Heimdall and Thor as they settle you into a large levitating carriage. It’s not Earth tech, with the clear curves and colors of Asgardian design.

It’s open, so you understand the need for the cloak now. Armod is sitting at the front of this little ship, hands on a weird sort of lever that is supposed to make up the steering wheel?

The whole thing reminds you a little of the speeders in Star Wars.

“What is this?” You ask in wonder, looking underneath the vehicle as if you might see how it works.

“This is a Skiff. Modified to comply with Earth regulations. Normally the steering mechanism would be at the back of the ship.” Heimdall informs you, moving to touch a small panel on the side which pulls a small step out towards you. “Your Highness?”

You take his hand, and he helps you up, Thor following shortly behind him.

He sits beside you, still not having said a word.

As you turn to look at him, admiring him from his booted toes to his silver winged helm, you realize that he’s staring at you.

“What?” You gasp, reaching down to touch the fabric of your cloak and the bottom edge of your armor.

Does it look weird? You in armor is not a look you’d ever thought you’d be rocking.

The heat of Thor’s hand traces along the bottom seam of your armor on your back. Fingers tickling the curve of your bottom before he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close with gentle strength.

“You’re the most beautiful creature in all of the nine realms, and beyond.” He gushes, and you laugh nervously.

Looking away from him because your neck, ears, and face are burning up and you can’t believe such a sappy grouping of words just came out of his stupid handsome mouth.

You feel his lips pressed to your temple, then cheek. You turn to look at him, wondering about what expression he’s wearing but instead he’s kissing you, eye shut, completely lost in the affection.

When he pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours. Breathing a little hard as you yourself shiver.

“I love you.” He whispers, so soft and quiet only you can hear him.

“Thor…” You breathe, reaching up to hold his hand as he places it on your cheek.

“You don’t have to say it back. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same. I just want you to know that this is it for me. I didn’t expect to feel this way by today but now that I do, I’m so grateful for you and I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy.”

His confession leaves you weeping, eyes flooded with tears that streak down along your cheeks.

“Thor…” You gasp, pulling him down to kiss him again, just one quick kiss so that you can free your mouth up to speak. “I love you, too. I didn’t know that I could feel this way so quickly. But I do. I love you.”

Thor smiles, the brightness in his face is radiant and you’d swear he is literally glowing.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, a laugh in his voice as he reaches into his own cloak to pull out a sleek black handkerchief.

He pulls it up to your cheeks and gently wipes the tears from your cheeks.

“Because you’re saying all these stupid sweet things that I want to hear and I’m so fucking happy, alright?” You sob just once, reaching out to push against his chest but he catches your arm and pulls you into a hug as he chuckles.

The Skiff begins to move, and you and Thor pull apart when the cheers begin.

You’re still trying to catch up in your mind to the mass of people waving and cheering from the sides of the main street through the city. There are endless flashes from human reporters who came to take pictures. In no time at all, the Skiff is pulling up to the front of the palace.

David is waiting for you and he frowns at the tear stains on your cheeks but a quick look at Thor and his dip to kiss your lips wipes all worries from his mind.

“See you in there, cherub.” Thor calls to you, leaving you just outside the doors of the throne room.

Estrid meets you there and quickly goes to work on fixing your face.

“It’s okay.” You squirm, trying to keep Thor in view but the doors close and all you get to see is the long table on the right side of the room with two large chairs meant for you and Thor during the feast and an array of smaller tables on the opposite side of the room.

Along the left side wall, at the very back are a group of men and women, all wearing stiff black suits. The ambassadors?

“They were happy tears.” You continue to resist, eyes lingering on the scary government group.

“Hilde will tear my hide, Your Highness. Please.” She begs and you stay still for her even though you doubt that Hilde would ever hurt anyone like she suggests.

“Are you nervous?” David asks, reaching to straighten your hair.

“No.” You admit, shaking your head only when Estrid is done with your face.

Instead her hands are on the clasp of your cloak as she peels it off of you and throws it over her arm and then moves around you to straighten your dress.

“I’m so ready to be his wife, David.” You sigh, the feeling of madness on the edges of your mind. “Is that weird? It doesn’t feel weird.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not weird, if it’s really how you feel. I only want you to be happy.”

“He makes me happy. Really. I was worried about Jane in the beginning and scared about loving him if he didn’t love me back. But he’s more invested in us than I thought he would ever be. He’s being real, I think. It feels real. When he tells me he loves me, it doesn’t sound like a lie.”

David watches you, then taps Estrid on the shoulder. “Thank you, I think she’s ready. Tell them we’ll be right in.”

Estrid gives you a curtsy and disappears through the doors.

You steal a look and spot Thor rolling back and forth on his feet in front of the throne as Loki talks in his ear beside him.

He looks towards you and he smiles, stopping his nervous movement as he locks eyes with you.

Your heart stutters. The doors close again.

“Y/N…I want you to be vigilant with your emotions. You say that his declarations don’t sound like lies and they might not be. But lies like that never sound like lies.”

Your heart sinks a little, your mind racing with every moment that Thor has been sweet with you.

“It’s real, David.” You protest.

“Yes.” He nods, taking your hands in his. “After watching the two of you together, I believe both your emotions are real. Just as you say. I only want you to guard your heart. I want you to protect yourself.

“Marriage is not easy. I have only my own experience to speak from, but there were many obstacles that I did not expect. Laura and I hurt each other many times.” David explains.

“But you and Laura were together until the end. You were both so in love.” You hadn’t known his wife long.

She’d passed only a year after you having known her but every time you’d seen them, they’d been the picture of romantic love and true friendship.

“We were.” He nods, “But it wasn’t always easy. She and I both made many mistakes. Small ones and mistakes that challenged the very core of our relationship. Mistakes that almost tore us apart.

“And this is your first relationship. The first time you’ve ever given yourself over to someone like this. I’m worried for you. That’s all.”

“And that’s why I love you. You’ve been here for me when I’ve needed you most. I will be careful but I want to embrace what I’m feeling.”

“And that’s all I want too. Just your caution. Protect your heart, Y/N. No one else will protect it better than you.”

Really, you understand his worries. This is such a risk not only for you but for Thor too. The two of you hardly know each other.

Your chemistry is through the roof, but there is so much about who you two are as people that you still have to learn. Your lives as King and Queen will also play a part in how your marriage will come together.

Will you have time for each other? Time to make an heir? Time to spend time with whatever family you’re able to make?

“I can’t promise you that I’ll guard my heart well.” You shake your head but squeeze his hands tighter. “I can only promise that I’ll be true to how I feel. If something starts to go wrong, I’ll be open about it. With Thor and with anyone there to support us.”

Because let’s face it, you’ve known for a while that you’re absolutely fucked when it comes to Thor.

You’re head over heels and grateful that he is too. At least your marriage will begin with love even if in time, that fades. You’ll always have the memories you’re making now.

“I suppose this is the apprehension every father feels when his daughter marries. I’ll have to suck it up. But just know, that if you ever need a place to go, if something should be terrible enough that you need to leave, my home will always be open to you as sanctuary.

“I will protect you, as best I can when the time comes.” He pulls you to him, hugging you tightly.

“If,” you correct him. “If the time comes.”

Because you’re certain in your bones that Thor loves you and you love him, and the only thing that could tear that love apart is each other and you can’t see either of you making such a stupid mistake.

The large wooden doors open. David pulls back and takes your hand, wrapping it around his elbow. He lets you take a breath before he takes that first step towards the throne where Thor stands waiting, beaming with joy as his future wife approaches.

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adorerdraco · 4 years

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Distractions and O.W.L.S ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: You start neglecting yourself and Draco when you begin stressing for O.W.L.S. The studying finally took its toll on you that landed you in the hospital wing but Draco helps you end the night on a good note.

Warnings and Perks: being stressed, over studying, fainting ! and corniness

Words: 2K (sorry for any mistakes its 3 AM !!!!!)

A/N: omg i am currently working on some requests and on Healing Heart 4, but i’ve had this scenario stuck in my head all night bc i was listening to a slowed down version of stuff we did from UP and so i thought id share it with everyone since i havent posted in like 2 days <3 do not own gif but pretend that you and Dracoooo <3

It was the beginning of June, weeks away from O.W.L.S, which meant weeks away from another ending of a school year at Hogwarts. What bothered you the most wasn’t the fact that you had homework piled up to the ceilings, or that Snape has been snapping at you all week and took away 5 house points from you, or that you were drowning in a sea of textbooks and notes that you kept studying for your upcoming exams; it was the fact that you had barely seen Draco in nearly two weeks. You were so busy with schoolwork and focused on getting outstanding marks, you hadn’t even realized you were neglecting your own boyfriend.

Of course, the two of you would find each other in the Great Hall during breakfast and you’d give him a quick hello and goodbye kiss faster than he could even register what was happening and by the time he did, you were already out the door and rushing towards your first class. At this point, you were acting like the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, always frantic and in a rush. Your hair was wild and untamed, you had dark bags under your eyes from the all-nighters you were pulling, your robes and clothes underneath were in disarray and wrinkled.

To make it worse, you never let Draco study with you. He constantly asked and you always gave him the same answer.

“If I study with you, I’ll never get anything done.”

Which was true. He was very distracting with his quiet jokes in the library, or when he would look up at you with his sparkling gray eyes when you would try to ask him a question that just flew from your mind at the sight, or smile at you with a wide toothy grin that lit up the room when you got sidetracked and talked to him, or the way he rested his hand on your thigh when he would sit beside you while you quietly read or wrote but the only thing you could focus on was his fiery touch. Really, it wasn’t him who would distract you; it was you who distracted yourself with him. And that was evident when you tried to remember everything you’ve learned in the past school term and came up blank because for some reason your brain only retained information and memories that contained Draco throughout the past year.

So you figured a little time away from him wouldn’t hurt. Because if you didn’t pass these O.W.L.S, you felt like everyone would be disappointed in you, especially yourself. So you locked yourself away in your dorm and crammed and jam-packed your brain with information until you eventually passed out hunched over a book with drool blurring the ink on your pages. You avoided the library for studying, knowing Draco would go looking for you or Madam Pince would distract you halfway through your note taking to kick you out for the night.

Mornings always came the same, you waking up randomly over your desk a few minutes before breakfast and changing into a new pair of robes as quickly as you could while trying your best to smooth your hair down with your hands. This morning was different, however. You woke up to one of your roommates shaking you violently while she spoke your name loudly above you, but it sounded distant. You shot up in a hot flash, wiping your mouth of any saliva and groaning when you started to feel the pounding in your head that seemed to shake up your whole brain. “Thank Merlin, you’re awake!” Your roommate exclaimed in relief. “You looked dead, honestly. But class is starting in twenty and you’ve missed breakfast.”

“Twenty?” you frown, letting your swelling head fall into your hands. “I don’t want to deal with Snape right now, I feel awful.”

“I’m going to try to say this as nice as possible,” she sighs, placing a hand on your shoulder, “but it shows.”

“Thanks,” you scowl. You try to get up from your chair but gasp in pain as your muscles cramp at the movement like a rickety old man.

“Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” she suggests, trying to help you up but you shoo her.

“No, I’m fine,” you rush to interject. “I will not be missing Potions, no.”

She gave you a shrug, backing away in defeat as she let you rush to change into new robes and attempt to brush down the matted mess that’s supposed to be your hair but gave up halfway through and threw it into an updo. The headache was not a good combination with the scalp pain from combing out knots. Your roommate waited for you with pitied eyes, following closely behind you as you hurried out of the room and towards the exit.

You sped walked out with her but didn’t see the mop of platinum blond that was waiting for you outside the entrance of the common room. You had zero awareness of his presence until his hand had reached out to hold onto your wrist, stopping your near sprint towards the class. Your roommate stopped too, eyeing the two of you and the look on the Slytherin’s face before she continued walking.

“What? Draco, let go,” you move away from him and he quickly drops your arm. “I’m going to be late.”

You began to walk away from him, but he stepped in front of you, stopping you again.

“Why weren’t you at breakfast?”

“I overslept,” you answered gruffly. “Now, move! If I’m late, Snape will have my head on a stick.”

“Y/N, you need to slow down,” he frowns, “all this studying and rushing around everywhere is going to land you in the hospital wing. You look sick already, I’m worried.”

“I’m not sick!” You huff, throwing your head back in irritation. “If you really cared about me, you’d let me go to class instead of insulting me.”

“I’m not insulting you. Am I so terrible to tell you that you look like you’re about to pass out any second?”

“Yes, you are terrible,” you sneer, the pounding in your head was getting stronger each passing second. “Instead of-”

Your train of thought was violently stopped in its angry tracks, you stumble back and begin blinking hard at the spots that quickly started to dot your vision. Your hand instinctively reached out towards Draco, which he grabbed and hurriedly darted forward towards you, gripping onto you before you could meet the ground, your vision going black and your consciousness out the door.

Draco felt himself begin to panic. He promptly began to feel guilty, feeling like it was his fault that you even fainted in the first place because of the argument he had accidentally started.

He gathered you up in his arms, one arm sliding under your knees and the other under your neck as he swiftly picked you up and began his frantic journey towards the hospital wing.

When he got you to Madam Pomfrey, she instructed him to set you down on one of the beds and kicked him out of the room while she started her treatment. His heart was beating so fast, he wanted nothing more than to stay by your side so he halfheartedly threatened her with his father and she ended up letting him stay with a deep sigh while he stood idly by your bed. When Madam Pomfrey was done, she left the two of you alone. Draco wasted no time in sitting at the foot of your bed, his hand finding its way into your cold one that laid limply beside you. He watched your sleeping figure with a relief as he noticed that whatever Pomfrey gave you had speedily began to affect you. Your skin no longer looked ghastly and dull, but healthy again and tinged with pink. The dark circles underneath your eyes had faded just a little bit, leaving only slight bags as you finally slept.

He waited maybe 12 hours for you to wake up. After missing his first class, he had decided to go to the rest of his classes as Madam Pomfrey swore to him up and down that you would not wake up any earlier. He begrudgingly obliged and skipped all his meals instead to spend his short free time with you. When his final class ended, he almost ran back to the hospital wing. He occupied the rest of his time with a book he had found thrown somewhere around the room. The book was long forgotten the second he felt your hand twitch and your body begin to stir, your tired e/c’s looking around the room in confusion before landing on him. He scooted himself closer to you, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face as he looked at you with pure concern. It was the same look he had when he confronted you earlier and with that one look, you were able to recall everything that had happened before your collapse.

“I’m sorry I said you’re terrible,” you croak out sadly, your hand wrapping around his wrist and squeezing it gently.

“I’m sorry I made you faint,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“That was my own fault,” you chortle, “but I feel really good. I know I fainted and all, but I feel much better with whatever Madam Pomfrey gave me.”

“I can tell,” he smiles, moving himself a little back as you sat up with a newfound strength. “She said you can leave when you wake up.”

“Good, now help me out of this bed.”

Draco took your hand and you hopped out of bed excitedly, turning towards him and giving him a tight hug that he returned twice as hard.

“If you’re not too tired, can I show you something?” He asks from above you, his arms still wrapped strongly around you.

“Yes, please,” you answer with a nod against his chest.

Draco steps away from you before taking your hand and walking the two of you out of the hospital wing and towards the stairs that led to the astronomy tower. When you reached the top, huffing, and puffing, he asked you again if you were okay to which you answered with an eager nod.

"Tonight is a blood moon,” he smiles, pointing up towards the very large orange and reddish moon in the starry night sky. It shone brightly but still gave off little light in its wake, the astronomy tower was almost dark, but you still managed to see the blond perfectly, he was watching you with a happy and loving glint in his eyes that you were able to notice. “I was planning on asking you to see it with me tonight, but we kind of ended up elsewhere.”

You threw yourself into his arms, your face buried deep in his robes and the heat radiating off his chest warmed you up in the comfiest way.

“You’re the best, Dray,” you mumble into the cloth of his robes, the clothing vibrating underneath you as he chuckled. You pulled away and gazed up at him, smiling when he placed a kiss on your forehead.

The two of you unknowingly began to sway back in forth in each other’s arms, his hands resting on your lower back while yours were looped loosely around the back of his neck.

“You scared me today,” he begins quietly, “and every day since you’ve started your studying.”

“I know,” you frown, “I’m sorry.”

“Promise me you’ll stop overworking yourself,” he says softly. “I know you’re scared you’ll fail, but I promise you won’t. You’re one of the smartest people I know and I know you’ll get outstanding marks on everything.”

“You think so?” you ask hopefully, your eyes trained on the burnt orange moon as you took in his words.

“I know so.”

A few more minutes of silence pass by, your head now leaning against his chest as the two of you still danced silently. And as if he read your mind, Draco began humming a soft and off-pitch rendition of Claire de Lune. You would laugh every time he forgot a note and would go silent for a moment before backtracking and humming it correctly.

You don’t know how long the two of you stayed up there dancing slowly in each other’s arms with Draco trying his best to hum the top classics of the classical’s, his lips finding yours every now and then to kiss you longingly and tenderly, but one thing was for sure; it was bliss.

Maybe distracting yourself with Draco wasn’t such a bad thing.

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seraphdarlimg · 3 years

Text

wish I were (pt4)

harry calls reader drunk to pick him up, later on finding him sat at her piano and playing a little song

masterlist

‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST, swearing, fluff WORD COUNT - 4,418

_________________________________________________________

Just fine is how I was feeling. I was lucky enough to be able to get started straight away with a new song to work on from a different artist. Practicing new instruments and talking to new clients have been what I've thrown myself into for the past 3 weeks.

Though drowning myself into work has kept me busy and given me excuses to ignore the hundreds of calls and texts from Harry, it felt like months had pass instead of only one. I seem to forget more about them and only remember the look on his face when I turn my back on him and left. Instead of memorizing chords and words, my brain can only comprehend the words we said and the last time I felt his touch or embrace. When I want to remind myself of what he did, the moment on the balcony is the first thing that comes to my mind and I curse myself for it.

I missed him, of course I did. As I sit in front of my laptop with an opened tab on a recording program, I am instead met with another creator's block and thinking about Harry again. Two points of thought that I hate being stuck in at the moment. The empty bags and containers of snacks and my dinner surround me and I'm wrapped in a blanket while a sad playlist is playing on spotify. It was a depressing sight.

But I can only image the state that Harry's in. After everything, I still miss and care about him, wondering if he's excited about the album release tomorrow or if he's hydrated and taking the fact that I've chose to walk out of his life better than I am. It's pathetic really, but it's part of it and I can only hope to learn to live without him through time. If that is something I can even think of doing in the first place.

He hasn't called or text throughout the whole day though. I didn't want it to bother me but it did, even if it was time away that I'm asking for. I glanced at the black screen of my phone, pressing the button to turn it on. 12:23 AM and no notifications.

'i do love you, i'm sorry' one day ago. This is a good sign. This should be a good sign.

I sighed, forcing myself to turn away from my phone and focus on finishing this piece. The instrumentals are there and the rhythm is set, but coming up with lyrics prove to be difficult when I feel physically and emotionally drained.

It was late anyways. I would of been asleep by now to get ready for tomorrow, but it was most likely made clear I wouldn't be celebrating with the gang. I told Jeff the excuse that I had a meeting up north for the valid reason, even though everyone already knows what happened between the two best friends. A lunch with Sara and Mitch a week ago started off normal and pleasant as always, but had ended with Mitch bringing up Harry and me leaving abruptly.

"He's a mess. Hasn't left his house and has been ignoring everyone all week. We don't know what really happened between you two, but it's obvious that you haven't been the same as well."

The mention was enough to irk me. "Can we not right now?"

"Look even though we care about you, it's still non of our business to get involved. But it's still our jobs to see that when someone we care about is bothered by something, we make sure they are aware of it. Both of you aren't happy and should simply talk about it."

"It's not that simple Sara, he's too stubborn."

"It doesn't have to be now, but eventually. You yourself know that what you two have is way too special to just walk away from."

"Yeah well what if it's not? What if it's just not what everyone expects it to be? That even if we somehow make it work throughout everything, he's just going to run off to someone else again who'll just be better in so many ways."

"He's not the type of person to do that and you know it."

"I thought I did."

With my head rested on my hand, I feel my eyes droop. The instrumental of the song played on repeat on the program as I try to come up with words. Heartbreak and insecurities are the only topics that come to mind with the upbeat sound. I close my eyes for bit, letting the first stage of sleep take it's toll while my brain works overtime producing lines of rhymes.

But my ringtone drives me out of it. I only force my eyes open when I pick up my phone and answer the call, not thinking of who could be the only possible human being to call me at this hour. I sighed, pausing the recording and saving it. "Hello?"

"Hiiiii love! Karl told me I should call someone because I've had too much apparently. Can you please tell him that I'm a grown man that can handle my alcohol?" Shit.

"Harry- wait hold on, you're drunk now? Don't you have... who are you with?" My voice was tired and already raspy. It took longer than needed to process what was actually happening.

"Oh just all by my lonesome self at first... imagined you here a few times but I know that wasn't true, but Karl the bartender is here now!" His voice was muffled and almost drowned out by the sound of a pub. His words were slurred and I can only rub my temples at the situation he's already put me in.

"Why did you call me for this."

"Well my phone's dead and you're the number I memorized." He said softly after hearing my tone. I shouldn't, but he's drunk and alone.

"I'll call Mitch-"

"Only want you. Please?" I can imagine him pouting and I was too tired to argue with him.

"I can't do this right now..."

"Bubs, my head is starting to hurt and everyone is not being nice. Except Karl, Karl is a nice dude."

Maybe if I wasn't overworked and sleep deprived at the moment, I would of been in the righter state of mind. But the other half of me that worried about his state took the opportunity to see him once again.

"Where are you, Harry?"

***

It was easy to find a drunk Harry Styles at a pub. A small local one that we've been too once or twice in the past, enjoying each other's company over a glass after studio hours. And there he was again, sat at the stools we'd sit on and wallowing to Karl the bartender.

"Hey." I placed a hand on his shoulder after making my way through the small crowd that gathered around him that's been listening into his conversation. His eyes light up when he turns around and sees me, while I take in how disheveled he looks. His curls are messy and his bloodshot baggy eyes tells me he's been crying for a while.

"You're here." He mutters softly after he takes a moment to register that it's actually me. I only give him a small nod in confirmation, feeling that heart ache as he pulls me into a hug. "I'm sorry." I hear when he nuzzles into my neck, most likely apologizing when he sees how tired and unwell i am as he does.

"It's okay, come on let's get you home." I managed to let out, pulling away, guiding him out of his seat and away from the bar. "Oh okay, bye Karl! Keep the change." I send the bartender a grateful smile to which he returns with a pity look on his face.

"Just hold my hand Harry okay?" I tell him when I remember how clingy he gets when intoxicated. He doesn't hesitate to do so as we make our way through the crowd and out of the building.

I managed to get him in the passenger's seat without much interaction, now in the driver's seat and cursing at myself when I realized I didn't have enough gas to take him to his house. I didn't have the energy to go to the gas station this late.

"Are you crying..." He asks, pouting when I placed my face in my hands, taking deep breaths. "Please don't be sad, love." I shook my head, counting in my head as I felt Harry lean over and watch me.

"How many did you have?" I asked when I built up the will not to cry and turned on the ignition.

"Didn't bother counting, didn't matter." I kept my eyes in front of me as I drove while I felt his still on me.

"I would beg to differ. Shouldn't be my responsibility anyways." I quickly countered, noting the sharp tone in my voice and the frown I could imagine on his face.

"I'm sorry...I really wanted to see you."

"Hmm, and getting wasted and being an inconvenience is the way to get my attention." There was a second of silence and I glanced at him to check if he was still conscious, only to see that frown and his head hung in shame. My eyes trailed to the pearl necklace tucked into his sweater, as well as a yellow ribbon tied where it clasps together.

The grip I had on the wheel loosened but I sighed as I hated how guilty I felt after, aware how difficult it was to be mad when he was hurt. "That was harsh..."

"Nooo, I deserve it. I really do because I was mean to you and I don't ever want to be mean to you. Because it hurts me too ya know? More than it did when you walked away...I'm sorry that I hurt you."

I didn't say anything after that, spending the rest of the car ride back to my place in silence.

***

"You don't have to be rich, to be my giiirl. You don't have to be cool to rule my wooorld..."

My annoyance conflicted with the flutters my heart was feeling as Harry was softly singing all the way from my car to my sofa, hand held and clinging to my side the whole time. He plopped down, immediately taking a pillow. "Ain't no particular sign, I'm more compatible wiiith- hey you have that record right? Can you put it on pretty please?"

"It's 2AM, I'm not putting on a record right now." I took off my shoes and coat, graciously doing the same for him when he pouts and rests his head back on the couch. "Aw, you used to not care about that before. Is it because of your neighbors terrible taste of music to blast so late at night?"

"What?" I rubbed my eyes, standing up and going to the kitchen. I couldn't hear his mumbled response, but I returned with a glass of water to see him humming with his eyes closed. He cuddled the pillow close to him and I rolled my eyes, almost laughing at how he was tapping his foot along with the song he was playing in his head.

"Here..." He holds his hand out expectantly and I gave it to him. He takes a drink while I place his coat over the coffee table and go to get him an extra pillow and blanket.

"Oh everything hurts." He whines as I place the pillow down on the end of the couch. "My heart mostly, but that's so cheesy of me isn't it? Yours probably hurts more m' sorry...wish I could take it away."

It wasn't just his naïve words that had my eyes start welling up with tears, but it was also the realization of how he can easily break me down. I couldn't last a whole month without being there when he needs someone, when I was the one who wanted to leave. It was also probably the realization that I had grabbed the same blanket we used to set that little picnic in the studio.

"Wish I didn't cause it in the first place." He added, which led to me sitting down on the chair next to the couch, holding onto the blanket a little longer as delirium was starting to set in.

"I don't think we should have this conversation now, Harry... this is so unfair." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

"It is, but I'm scared I won't get another chance." My silence gave him the answer he was already aware of.

"What exactly do you want another chance of Harry, enlighten me." I closed my eyes for a minute, only to open them to see Harry looking at me in a different way. It's different, but I've noticed it before.

"Loving you." He's hesitant with his next words, most likely having sobered up a little. "I hadn't seen Heather for a few days after you left, told her later on about what happened. Took your advice though, talked to her and everything. It just wouldn't work out in the end...couldn't see myself with her in the future."

"But now you do with me?" I softly muttered, holding myself back from reaching out to him. He only nods, having that guilty look on his face because he's fully aware he doesn't deserve it. My droopy eyes are glued to his and that damn pearl necklace, too many thoughts in my head to come up with one whole response.

"Should of just called Mitch. You're an idiot for giving yourself a hangover on your release day." I finally said after a moment of silence.

"Hmm? Oh that, no that's not happening." He says casually, playing with the embroidery on the pillow he was hugging.

"What do you mean?"

"I've postponed the album thingy indefinitely or something."

"Aren't you finished with it?"

"I mean it's got 12 songs and everything but I don't know if it's really finished, I don't know." He shrugs and I'm almost annoyed by how calm nonchalant he is about it.

"You never know things Harry."

"And I hate it, I knooow! I don't know why I can't just figure it out and I hate that I'm hurting you because of it." He frowns, rubbing his eyes. "But I do know now that I love you. Really love you. Maybe if I figured that out sooner, you wouldn't hate me bubs."

I fiddle with my fingers, given up on trying to collect all my thoughts together a long time ago as I can only allow myself to take in his words and listen. He was right, in any other situation where I wasn't tired and delirious, I probably wouldn't even be in the same room as him. So here I was again, allowing myself to hurt in order to make sure he's taken care of.

Maybe it's what I deserve though. He left Heather because of me. I caved into myself at the though that I ruined the relationship of two people who loved each other simply because I didn't get the memo. She is everything in his eyes, he's proven that, so why didn't I just leave them be?

"Ugh, you probably hate me calling you that now but you know I won't stop cause you are my bubs! Like how I'm you're H. Oh... well, you stopped calling me that so...maybe not anymore but I want to be. Can I be your H again please, I miss that too." My thoughts were cut off when he continued, finding him now lying down with his eyes closed.

"Maybe one day." I reassured him hesitantly. We would of stayed friends, we wouldn't of had to fall apart, if I had just left him alone.

"Was a weird nickname anyways, just a letter." He mumbles as I stood up, laying the blanket over him while he still holds onto the pillow.

"You sort of gave it to yourself though, get some sleep Harry." I managed to get out, facing away from him to hide the tear that fell. He should be trying to fix his relationship with her and not me.

"Yeah, but you just started calling me it and I fell in love with it." I take one more look at him before I shut my door, seeing his face nuzzled into the pillow and the glint of a small smile on his face as he drifts off to sleep.

***

8:23. I slept around 2 and woke up 7 hours later to faint piano keys. I took in the soft melody, not recognizing it but enjoying it for a second before I forced myself to sit up and rub my eyes, realizing how dry my skin was from crying. It was definitely a sad song made up of only four chords and a fitting way to start the day as I remember the person who is most likely playing it.

I didn't want to face him, my head feeling too mushed to deal with anything else other than work. It was a weird situation to realize, the man I fell in love with and broke my heart is playing piano after I took him in when he was drunk. He tells me he officially breaks up with Heather after realizing he loves me.

He loves me?

No he doesn't. He should still love her, should be trying to get back to her now that I'm out of the picture. But he hasn't been trying too for the past month, focused on me this whole time. But why?

I snapped myself out of those thoughts quickly, knowing how terrible the following ones would be. I didn't want to think about it anymore, wanting to forget and move on. And as I quietly open my door and peaked out onto my apartment, I see his mess of curls sat on my keyboard with the blanket wrapped around him. He was considerate enough to lower the volume at least.

I took a deep breath and walked out quietly, leaning against the door frame as I continue to listen. "Part of the album, has some of your lyrics in it." He says when he notices my presence.

"Hmm. You told me that you've postponed it." I crossed my arms as he finishes the song with a long note. I see him nod, now looking down at his hands on his lap before adjusting the blanket to fully encase him.

"Yeah I did. It didn't feel right, putting something out there that I should be proud of, but you not being there to be happy with. You not wanting too in there first place, when you put your heart and soul into it, all because of me."

I frown, looking away from him when his intense eyes met mine. "It's too early Harry..."

"You told me it wasn't a good time last night too, so when is?" He huffs and I roll my eyes.

"I don't know after I have my fucking coffee?" I scoffed, uncrossing my arms and heading towards the kitchen. I hear him sigh, not saying anything else as I prepare a cup for myself, already annoyed and stressed out. I felt him staring at me while I avoided making eye contact, rubbing my temples.

"I'm sorry if I was trouble." He says, still sat down on the keyboard with the blanket wrapped around him.

"You're sorry for a lot of things." I sighed, pouring coffee into my cup.

"I am. But I don't know how to really apologize to you when you won't even let me talk to you."

I placed my cup down, suddenly forgetting about my coffee and finally looked at him. "Well what do you expect Harry? After everything you think I'm just going to trust you again? I told you I was done, I wanted to walk out of your life."

"But you picked me up. You still care, that still has to means something." He's frustrated now, desperate even and it only frustrates me more.

"Ah yes, decent morality to not leave an A list celebrity drunk in room full of strangers. That really dumb of you to do by the way, without any bodygaurds- what were you thinking?" I said, noticing how he was fiddling with the pearls that hung around his neck.

"The past month has been hell for me and all I wanted to do was see you. I feel so fucking guilty and sad and it's eating me up because I know I don't deserve any sort of reassurance from you. But at the same time, I so badly just want you back and I'm sorry for how selfish and arrogant I am." He was crying and I soften a little because of it. He tries holding it in, looking down as he quickly wipes away the tears that fall. I don't bother hiding mine anymore, having gotten used to it by now and I was tired of it.

"I've been in pain since December. Four months that you put me through so can blame me when I just want it to stop? I am so exhausted because no matter how much I throw myself into work, all I can think about is you and loving you."

"But I love you too, shouldn't that be enough to try again?" It should of been and he knows. Maybe if he realized it sooner, during his birthday, things would be different.

"You've proven that it's not." I say disappointingly, willing myself to walk over and sat down next to him, looking ahead at my piano in front of me. "I don't know what to do anymore Harry. Why can't you let me have this? Let me move on."

"Cause you and I both know we can't leave each other, too emotionally attached. I need you in my life bubs, everything sucks when you're not in it." I laugh a little at that, because it was true in a fucked up way.

"That's so unfair, why did you have to hurt me?" I hesitantly lay my head on his shoulder before he droops the other end of the blanket around me.

"I know most of my relationships don't last. Deep down I've always loved you but I couldn't let myself fall for you because I didn't want to ruin us. The thought of us breaking up and never seeing each other again just terrified me because I never wanted to lose you, ever. But I fucked up and managed to do so anyways, and I hate myself every day as much as you do." He starts playing the song again as he speaks, but it plays it down a key and slower.

"I don't hate you, can't bring myself too, but you shouldn't of been afraid to talk to me. You know who I am, we would of worked through it no matter what." He nods, followed by only the sounds of the piano melody.

"I'm in love with you." I hear him say softly after a little while out of the blue. It catches me off guard, finding it so foreign to hear those words come from him.

I let out a soft self deprecating chuckle. "No you don't. You care about me, but you don't love me. Probably saying this out of guilt or spur of the moment type thing and I can understand that, but you love Heather. She's good for you, perfect even."

"But I fell in love with you. She's not you." His brows are furrowed together as he frowns.

"Yeah, I'm not her." The small glint of my smile quickly fades and he notices it.

"What I did during my speech was very shitty. Gemma pointed it out to me right away and it's one of the biggest things I ever regret doing." He stops playing when he sees me deep in thought, slowly taking my hand to test the waters. "But I need you to understand what I said was true, that you are such an important person to me. You are beautiful, and kind, patience, and just so fucking good to me, love. I want to cherish you because it's what you deserve and I will deal with as much rejection for you to forgive me and give me another chance. It's worth every heartbreak if it means I get to love you again."

I find myself in an intimate situation, looking into his eyes at such a close proximity, our faces only inches away from each other. I was pleading to him with my eyes, begging him not to hurt me again while the look on his face was one I used to be familiar with. He was frozen while the fear that it would only just happen again held me back from moving. His eyes fluttered down to my lips, as if asking for permission and my head was refusing it. But every other part of me wanted to feel those lips again. I looked down at his, my hand taking hold of his and placing it on my chest to where my heart is before he made the move to finally press our lips together in a small kiss.

I wanted to sob because it felt right. I felt the butterflies again and the complete state of satisfaction. This time was gentle as well, but Harry put so much love into the kiss, cupping my cheek with his other hand when he feels how fast my heart was beating.

It only took a second more before I slowly pulled away, still tightly holding his hand against my heart as he could sense my doubt. "It's going to take some time okay? Probably a long time but you caused me a lot of heartbreak. But I never stopped loving you H, as much as I didn't want too anymore." I said seriously, and his eyes lits up with hope. Holding back his smile as much as he could while he nods because he heard that little nickname again.

"I'll give you as much time and space as you need, thank you. I love you so much bubs." He pulls me into a hug, nuzzling his face into my neck and I feel instantly calmer because of it. I rest my head on his shoulder while he mumbles sweet words into my skin.

"Promise I'll be good to you."

______________________________________________

A/N: :o it’s complete. I finished it yay! I’m so proud with how this series came out and I genuinely hope you guys do as well. I’ve started my semester and it’s going to be hectic so writing will take longer to come out, but there will be future stories that I’m really looking forward to writing and sharing :)

taglist: @big-galaxy-chaos

#Harry Styles #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #one direction #harry styles blurb #heather #wish i were

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lemonzestywrites · 3 years

Text

sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

paring: buck x eddie

word count: 2,268

tw: panic attacks, implied claustrophobia

[ao3 link]

_____

Buck has never been a fan of the dark. Especially as a child, the thought alone had brought along too many nightmares and memories of running to Maddie’s room to make her double-check for monsters under his bed. It doesn’t bother him as much anymore, but still, every now and again, on nights where his anxiety is all too present for his liking, the same twinge of uneasiness will find itself scratching away at his brain.

He hasn’t felt it in a while, but that itch has been sitting at the base of his subconscious since he’s clocked in for his shift, and now Buck can’t help but be on edge. He tries his best to ignore it and go on with his day, but the next 12 hours tick by with a foreboding weariness he can’t quite place.

The hospital only makes it worse. The plain white walls, the PA system going off every other minute, the frigid cold that sticks to his skin, he hates all of it. There’s a small voice in the back of his head that wonders if it’s just the result of having been admitted so many times. It doesn’t feel like all too sure of reasoning, but he’d rather not linger on the thought too long. So instead, Buck settles for it and chalks it up to nerves, making a mental note to bring it up during his next session with Dr. Copeland. Until then, he should be fine.

Emphasis on should.

Because apparently, the universe gets a real kick out of watching Buck suffer since it wasn’t enough that the hospital’s power went out- no, the entire fucking city got hit with a widespread blackout. And if that wasn’t worrying enough, Eddie hasn’t been answering his radio, and Buck’s phone isn’t working either. He does his best to stay calm, really he does, but with every passing minute of radio silence, the sick coil of nerves knotted in his stomach only gets tighter and tighter.

After 10 minutes of no response, Bobby had given Buck the go-ahead to go look for Eddie, and that’s all he needed before he’s off, weaving through the halls of the hospital heading to where he’d seen him last. If it weren’t for whatever shred of self-control in him, Buck would probably be sprinting through the building by now.

Eddie’s been back to work for only about a couple weeks now. And he’s doing great (obviously, he wouldn’t have gotten cleared to go back if he wasn’t). Buck is happy for him- happy that his best friend is back. God knows the last couple of months had been rough without Eddie, he had spent the last couple of years carving out and filling a special place in the station especially reserved for him, and then all of a sudden, it had been vacant again.

Buck is excited that he’s working again, really he is. But now the energy between them feels…different, and he knows why- they both do. It’s not like Buck had expected them to come back completely fine either. But even months after the shooting, they still have yet to talk about any of it. A part of him feels like they should, but in the months he stayed over at Eddie’s, helping out however he could during his recovery, Buck could see the toll everything had taken on him, both physically and mentally. Eddie didn’t seem ready to unpack that with him yet, and Buck wasn’t going to push him.

It’s fine. He knows Eddie has been going back to therapy. They’ll talk whenever he’s ready.

Buck does his best to give Eddie his space, let him, you know, do his job, but the past weeks feel like he’s been doing nothing but living on the edge. Every time Eddie’s out of his sight for too long, he can hear a voice screaming at him, ‘Where is he? Is he okay? Find him. Protect him. Find him. You said you’d have his back. Your fault. Your fault. Your fa-’

Then Eddie will turn the corner, and Buck’s lungs will release a breath he hadn’t known he was holding on to. He hopes it’ll take the fear, too, that with every sigh won’t just be a release of pressure but help let go of the irrational worry he has. But it never does. It eats away at him, taunting him with the idea that Eddie might get hurt again, but this time Buck won’t be there to help him.

(God, they really should talk.)

He still doesn’t bring it up. Instead, Buck sets aside his apprehension and tries not to indulge in the panicked voice in his subconscious. He’s been getting better at it.

At least he was.

All it took was 15- no, 16 minutes now- of radio silence for Buck’s heart to start pounding against his chest in rapid succession. For the nervousness to shoot through his veins, thrumming all the way down to the tips of fingers as they twitch with a numbing unease. He treads through the halls keeping his head on a swivel, alert and attentive to trying to find his best friend in the sea of patients and doctors. Eddie’s probably somewhere in the hospital helping out the staff; he is a medic after all. Yet despite any amount of reasoning Buck tries to apply, the sickening feeling in his stomach doesn’t seem to dissipate. It’s been 16 minutes, and he hasn’t had any luck. He’s even circled the floor twice just to be sure, but still, nothing.

He’s considering doing another lap when he hears it- the distant noise of someone banging on metal coming from behind the elevator doors. The sound is so faint, paired with the loud frenzy of the rest of the hospital floor, that Buck almost doesn’t hear it.

He rushes to the doors, pressing his ear flushed against it. He can hear someone yelling, but the voice is too muffled to make out what they’re saying.

“Eddie?” He calls out, no doubt getting a couple odd looks from the passing medical staff, but he pays them no mind. He bangs on the doors a couple times before yelling again louder, “Eddie! It’s Buck- can you hear me?”

There’s a beat of silence before the pounding continues again, this time with much more force in response. Buck doesn’t waste any time before he digs his fingers between the doors, using everything he has to pry them apart. The muscles in his shoulders and arms strain, but the creaking of metal offers enough motive to keep him going. Even if it’s not Eddie, it still means someone’s trapped down there.

(A selfish part of him still hopes, though.)

Once the doors are opened wide enough for him, Buck drops to his stomach to peer down into the elevator currently caught between two floors. Even with the little light he does have, he sees a curled-up shadow crouched in the corner below him, “Eddie?”

The person shifts, “Buck?”

There’s nothing more Buck wants than to revel in the relief he feels when he finally hears Eddie’s voice, but it quickly scatters when he notices the trembling panic coated in his tone.

“It’s me,” Buck reassures with as much steadiness he can force out and just hopes that Eddie doesn’t hear the way his voice shakes out the words. “Are you okay?”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. “I don’t know. I-I can’t breathe.”

Buck’s mind starts to spin, panicking on what to do now. The gap in between the doors isn’t that big, so it’s not like he can slip down there with Eddie or pull him out either. He has enough sensibility to grab at his radio to at least let Bobby aware of his status, “Cap, I found Eddie. He’s trapped in an elevator stuck between the 7th and 6th floors.”

A few seconds pass before he hears Bobby’s voice on the other end, “Okay, we’re working on getting the hospital’s backup generator working. Stay with him until we can get it back online, then we’ll head up to you.”

Eddie lets out a strangled noise at his words. The twinge of panic in Buck’s stomach only coils tighter when he realizes how Eddie’s breathing seems to pick up, now coming out in quick hallow shivers.

‘He’s having a panic attack.’ Buck realizes.

It takes less than a couple seconds after for Buck to murmur a hasty “copy that” into his radio before he readjusts his focus back to his friend.

He’s not unfamiliar with panic attacks, his or Eddie’s, most of which being the results of nightmares that seem to linger when dusk settles. During the last few months, Buck has lost count of the nights that either one of them has woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, and in the midst of alarm and fear, craving a recognizable magnetism of being held. A silent want to be assured protection and comforted.

It’s sick now. How there’s nothing more Buck desires than to provide that same security now, but the small two-foot gap between the elevator doors draws out to what feels like miles of distance.

Even though he can’t crawl down there with him, Buck finds himself reaching into the elevator shaft as far as he can, “Eddie, can you grab onto my hand for me?” Listen- he knows what he’s doing isn’t entirely safe, sticking his arm into an elevator that hasn’t been secure yet. But the sound of Eddie’s breath coming out in nothing but shaky huffs is more than enough to make him forgo any logic.

From within the enclosure of the elevator, he feels Eddie grasp his hand with an iron grip, the distress trembling at his fingers.

“Hey, I’m here, I’m right here, alright?” Buck presses the conviction through his tone, his best attempt to override his own uncertainty. “Do you think you can try and take some deep breaths?”

Buck can faintly make out the silhouette of Eddie nodding, “Y-Yeah,” he mutters. “Yeah, I can try.”

“We can do them together,” Buck offers. He takes a deep breath himself, and from below him, he hears Eddie take one too. Unconsciously, Buck starts to tighten his hold in tandem with their breathing, squeezing his hand on an inhale, loosening his grasp on the exhale. He hadn’t really realized he’s doing it until after a couple breaths, Eddie starts doing it too. And with each squeeze, his grasp slowly becomes more determined and less shaky. It doesn’t take long for them to eventually sync up for the tremor in Eddie’s hands to fade.

A couple more moments pass, and his breathing begins to steady more.

“How you doing down there, Eds?”

“Can you…”, he clears his throat, an attempt to hide how wrecked he sounds. “Can you talk to me?- About anything, it doesn’t matter.”

Buck rattles his brain for something, anything to talk about before he remembers the nature documentary he had watched several nights prior, “Did you know toucans are born blind?”

He hears Eddie laugh; it comes out breathless and nervous, but it’s a laugh nonetheless, “Really?”

“Yeah, ironically enough, they also aren’t great at flying either. They usually hop from one branch to another to get where they want to go.”

“Tell me more?” He asks, his voice quiet.

Buck smiles and keeps going, rambling about birds for a while. He doesn’t really know for how long, and at some point, he loses his awareness of what he’s saying, more focused on Eddie than anything else. Faintly, he wonders if his arm is getting tired by now.

“You know, Chris has been learning about biomes and ecosystems in school…he’d love to hear all this stuff.”

“You can tell him all about it after work.” He reassures.

Eddie’s hand twitches in his palm. “How much longer?” Buck can hear the dread creeping back into his tone.

“I…”

Not too long. He wants to promise, but the words get caught in his throat. There are a lot of things Buck can do- lying to Eddie isn’t one of them. “I-I don’t know.” He finally admits, the shame dripping down from him. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

Eddie laughs, yet this time there’s no shred of humor in his voice, “I’m not sure if I can last any longer down here, Buck.” God, he sounds on the verge of tears.

“What can I do?” Fuck, at this point, Buck would do anything. Hell, he’d pull the damn elevator up himself if he had to. Whatever it would take to get Eddie back on safe ground.

“Just-” A pained noise escapes him, “Please don’t leave.”

Buck swears his heart fucking shatters. “Hey.” Even though he can’t see exactly where Eddie is, he does his best to look him in the eye before he squeezes his hand, “I’m not leaving your side, okay?”

The first thing Buck’s fire instructor had said during his training at the academy was never make a promise you can’t keep. Buck knows how important promises are to people, especially in states of emergencies. In the middle of chaos, those two words are all anyone needs to cling to. So that’s why, when Eddie looks at him, with what little light there is provided catching the edges of his watery eyes laced in fear and worry, Buck doesn’t hesitate to grip his hand as tight as he can. To hold on and look at Eddie with all the conviction and certainty he has and tell him,

“I promise.”

#hi there! i hope you enjoyed this fic!#zestywrites #911 #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie

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horansqueen · 3 years

Text

Stuck With You - Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Break My Heart

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2 🡪chapter 3 🡪chapter 4 🡪chapter 5 🡪chapter 6 🡪chapter 7 🡪chapter 8 🡪chapter 9 🡪chapter 10 🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

You say my name like I have never heard before I'm indecisive but this time I know for sure I hope I'm not the only one that feels it all Are you fallin'?

Center of attention You know you can get whatever you want from me Whenever you want it, baby It's you in my reflection Now I'm afraid of all the things it could do to me If I would've known it, baby

I would've stayed at home 'Cause I was doin' better alone But when you said, "Hello" I know that was the end of it all I should've stayed at home 'Cause now there ain't no letting you go Am I falling in love With the one that could break my heart?

I wonder when you go, if I stay on your mind Two can play that game, but you win me every time Everyone before you was a waste of time Yeah, you got me

click here to be on the update list

NIALL

I let my finger slide on the strings of my guitar but my eyes were on Devon and my head was thinking about her, too. She was laying down on the couch, her legs on my thighs, reading a book, and the way her eyes moved into a frown or opened more into slight surprise was mesmerizing me. We hadn't really talked in a few hours but it didn't matter, I still felt completely at ease with her. We were sort of used to it since it happened a lot when we were in our room at college, but here, in my apartment, it felt even better.

We had taken a walk earlier, got caught by snow and grabbed food on our way back. We ate together with a glass of wine in the kitchen and when we got up to relax in the living room, I realized that It was my favorite day in a very long time. It had started amazingly but I had to admit the sweet moments with her were hard to beat. I knew we'd have problems if we stayed a few more days away from everyone, especially with our classes and school projects, but I wanted it so bad it made my heart twist in my chest when I thought about it.

Would we go back to be only friends? Would her stupid ex still be around? Would he message her again? Would she push me away the way I pushed her away when we met? I liked to believe that everything would be exactly like it was now but I couldn't be sure. It felt different here, like we were in a parallel universe, or alone on an island. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to stay here with her, and I was ready to put everything else on hold and risk my school year to make sure things wouldn't change between Devon and I. That thought was scary and I closed my eyes, trying reason myself. I couldn't fall again so hard for someone. I became dumb and blind when it happened and I knew it wouldn't end well.

I got out of my thoughts when Devon's phone beeped and she groped around to find it, her eyes never leaving her book. I checked the title and my lips curled slightly on the left when I realized it was a book about famous painters and their history. Why wasn't I surprised? It made me wonder what the painting she had started in the guest room looked like but I would never invade her intimacy by looking at an unfinished piece of art without asking her.

"Oh, god." Devon let out, checking her phone and chuckling nervously. "Our friends are so stupid."

Immediately, I knew she was talking about Louis and Lewis and I raised my eyebrows.

"What do they want?"

"See for yourself." she just replied, handing me her phone.

I frowned and grabbed it, noticing they had left comments under the pictures of me that Devon had posted earlier in the day. The first few were comments about the fact that I was almost naked and I rolled my eyes with a smile, but when my eyes found one specific comment from Lewis, I raised my eyebrows and chuckled.

'I dare you two to fuck!'

I re-read it a few times before checking Louis' answer that simply said. 'I bet they already have!'

I groaned and glanced up at Devon who was looking at me with an amused smile. Finally, I continued reading their interaction with my nose raised up.

'Do you know how long it took them to be friends? They definitely haven't fucked yet.'

I couldn't pretend he was not right but it was slightly annoying to see your friends discuss of your love and sex life on a public social media under pictures of you in boxers.

'Lewis, touché. Niall & Dev, I double dare you'

I waited a few more seconds and just held out her phone to Devon, making her chuckle. She took it back and put it away before moving her upper body slightly up, her book placed on her stomach but still open to keep her page. My eyes roamed on her and a bunch of nasty thoughts appeared in my mind.

"It almost makes me want not to fuck so we don't give them what they want." I admitted, raising my eyebrows.

"Almost?"

"Almost."

This time, my lips curled as she laughed and I did the same. My smile fell slowly as I looked at her, turning into a fond look. They were right about something, it really had taken us a while to become friends, and It made me wonder how many moments we had lost while I tried to hate her. I normally could contain myself quite well but when it came to Devon, it had been difficult for me since day one. I had kissed her randomly and maybe a bit roughly a few times because it was stronger than me, because I didn't hate her and I knew I never would. And she had answered my kisses every time, giving me back all the feelings I tried to communicate her, probably even more.

"Devie..." I whispered, licking my lips nervously as her eyebrows raised. "You remember when we got locked in the library for the night? You grabbed my notebook and It was not our school project so I just.. took it back?" she nodded slowly with a frown and I cleared my throat, twisting the fabric of my sweatpants as my other hand grabbed my guitar tighter. "I was writing a song. I was writing a song about you."

Her lips parted and she remained motionless for a while, just staring at me as my heart thumped so hard in my chest I felt like it was going to explode or escape. I waited for an answer or a move, any reaction coming from her would be fine, but nothing happened and I breathed in, taking my guitar better as I started playing.

"Like the rain on a sunny day There's a shadow behind your face Tell me what you're running from I don't know what made you so afraid Don't you know you got the best of me? Yeah, you're everything I want

Anyone can see Anyone can see You're hiding, hiding You can talk to me It's more than skin deep But I'm trying, yeah

Since we're alone Yeah, you can show me your heart If you put it all in my hand No, I swear No, I won't break it apart Since we're alone Show me all that you are And if you get lost in the light It's okay I can see in the dark

All your thoughts running through your head The things you think better left unsaid Just wanna know where you came from Why would you wanna play someone else I love you best when you're just yourself Yeah, you're everything I want

Anyone can see Anyone can see You're hiding, hiding You can talk to me It's more than skin deep But I'm trying, yeah

Since we're alone Yeah, you can show me your heart If you put it all in my hand No, I swear No, I won't break it apart Yeah, since we're alone Show me all that you are And if you get lost in the light It's okay I can see in the dark"

When I was done, my eyes met hers again and her head was tilted. She was tearing up and I didn't know why but the fact that she seemed touched made me feel better. She moved her upper body up slowly, holding herself with her elbows and her book slipped from her stomach to the ground but she didn't give it a second glance. She simply reached for the front of my shirt, grabbing it in a fist and pulling me with her slowly. I held my breath and my lips parted. I couldn't take my eyes off of her and she brought me on top of her. My guitar fell on the carpet in a thud, joining her book, as I lied down on top of her. My lips met hers and immediately, she whimpered in my mouth, grinding her hips up against me. Her hand slid on my back and she moved my shirt over my head. I helped her by moving slightly up and as I was throwing it away, she reached for the bottom of hers and took it off too. It got caught in her hair and I pulled on it gently, letting it fall on the floor. My eyes ran on her and I noticed she held her breath but I was not sure why. She reached the sides of her pants and squirmed beneath me to take them off, pushing them down to her legs before one of her hands reached behind my head and pulled me closer. Our lips touched again and I groaned low as her hand gripped my hair.

I could barely believe she was finally completely naked around me and that simple thought excited me more than I thought it would. I felt her reach between us, grabbing my cock over my pants and without thinking, I pushed my hips against her hand, impatient to be inside her. I could pretend I didn't know if that's what she wanted but by the way she was kissing me and touching me, I was sure about it. I brought one of my hands to push my pants down and this time, she's the one who helped me. I struggled to take them off completely and when I grabbed them to throw them on the floor, I did the same with hers. It got stuck under my knee and I squirmed more as she giggled a bit and I smiled too when I was done, moving back over her and looked in her eyes.

"I really want you." I whispered, making her smile disappear.

"Me too, Niall." she replied just as low before pressing her lips together. "That time in the elevator... I thought we were going to do it right there on the floor."

Her confession made me raise my eyebrows and I chuckled in surprise. "You would... you would have wanted to?"

"Mmhm, yes. I wanted it just as bad as I want it now."

As if to prove it, she moved her knees up around me and I felt the tip of my cock slip inside her. Her eyes rolled back and she closed them as her back arched a bit. I remained motionless but I could feel her throb around my tip, proving me how horny she was. It turned me on even more and I moved closer, running my tongue on her jaw before reaching her neck. I started sucking on her skin as I pushed myself slowly inside her and her grip tightened in my hair.

"Fuck, stop for a second or I'm gonna cum." she whispered, gripping my hair so tight it could have hurt if my cock was not buried deep inside her.

I started nibbling on her neck, feeling slightly dizzy from her confession but from the way her body reacted, I knew she was not lying.

"You feel so fucking good." I admitted low, moving my head up slightly to suck on her ear. "Love the way you clench around me."

She whimpered and I let my mouth travel until hers before kissing her gently but deeply. Her grip in my hair loosened and I started moving in and out of her so slowly it was barely bearable. It only took half a minute for her to start shaking under me. Her back arched and she closed her eyes tight, making me reach between us to rub her clit through her orgasm.

"Fuck, Niall, oh my god." she whispered as I watched her cum.

The sight was amazing and when she finally stopped shaking, she relaxed beneath me and I kissed her again. "Was good?"

"I'm so sorry." she apologized in a breath. "I couldn't stop it."

"Why would you want to stop it?" I asked as I started moving again, my lips still pressed on hers. "I want to make you cum as many times as I can."

I had no idea how long I would last for our first time but I still planned on making her cum a second time and when I started going faster and a bit harder, she started squirming.

"Fuck you're so wet." I admitted low, feeling her juice all over her inner thighs. "This is driving me fucking insane. Your pretty little cunt is so fucking perfect, did I tell you that before?"

Her lips parted but I frowned when she moved slightly, trying to reach for something on the coffee table. My heart skipped a beat when I realized it was her camera and she brought it up to snap a picture. I had no idea what it would look like but I liked it.

I couldn't help it and started fucking her harder, feeling my chest rub against hers as I held myself with my arms on each sides of her head. I slipped my fingers in her hair as I thrusted myself deeper and harder inside her.

I never thought our first time would be like that. In fact, I imagined it a lot rougher and dirtier, but it was perfect like that and somehow, I hoped that she understood all the feelings I had for her.

I heard the camera again and for some reason, I felt like she was simply taking pictures of whatever she could reach with her arm up. She seemed focused on what we were doing but I appreciated the effort and I kissed her lips as I heard the camera again.

"Mm, yea? You like my pussy? It's all yours." she let out near my ear. "Please make me cum again."

Her words brought a rush to my brain and I moved myself up on my hands, pushing my hips against hers to go balls deep. My eyes followed her hand as it ran on one of her breasts and then the other before it reached her clit. She started rubbing it and the sight brought me close to an orgasm. I tried to hold it until she started cumming again and when she did, she moaned louder than the first time, wiggling in front of my eyes and her pussy clenching even more around my cock.

"Fuck, Devie.."

My fingers curled against the fabric of the couch and I pushed myself deep in her as I came. It didn't seem to stop and when I pulled out, I realized I was still cumming. It gushed a bit on her pussy and she brought her hand to my cock, stroking it and making my orgasm even stronger. Once again, I heard the camera but didn't think much of it.

"Jesus.. fuck." I whispered, shutting my eyes tight and finally letting myself fall back down.

We panted for about a minute and I finally moved to lay down next to her but on my side, facing her. I brought her closer and my lips found hers, kissing her deeply and slowly. She tasted amazing and I groaned low in her mouth. She finally pulled away and my eyes fluttered open only to see a soft smile on her lips.

"Is that how you get girls in your bed?" she asked with a giggle, letting her eyes roam on my face and making me smile.

I buried my face in her neck and left small kisses on her skin. "Let's say it's the first time it ends up like this." I admitted with a chuckle, pulling her body flush against mine.

"Mm, and definitely not the last time."

I pulled away enough to be able to look in her eyes as one of my hands ran slowly on her back, along her spine. "So when I sing you an other song I wrote for you, we'll have sex again?" A small smile appeared on her lips and an amused one on mine. "Does that mean I have to write a new song every time I want to get my dick wet?"

She laughed and pushed my arm gently, making me laugh too. "Shut up!"

"Okay!" I just replied, moving closer and kissing her again.

Her arm wrapped around my waist again and I felt her body press against mine. I loved everything about this, even the fact that we were laying down on my couch and not in bed. Her hair was a mess and I could only imagine mine was pretty much the same. We were sweaty and exhausted but we still took the time to kiss each other slowly and deeply, as if we both didn't want this moment to end. In fact, I wanted this moment to start over every fucking day from now on. The more we spent time together, the more I wanted her to stay, and the more I realized my real feelings for her. Most of the time, I tried to push that thought back so I didn't have to deal with it, but right now, it was not an easy task. I knew she didn't want a relationship, but would telling her the three little words make her run away?

"Does that mean you're gonna write more songs about me?" she asked in a murmur when we stopped kissing.

Her eyes were still shut and her lips still so close I could feel them brush on mine. "Devie, I already wrote a few more songs about you." I admitted in a whisper, moving my head up and down extremely slowly to let our lips brush together again. "And I'll write many many more."

She swallowed hard and her eyes roamed on me. For some weird reason, it seemed like she felt guilty and she breathed in, licking her lips. "I spied on you." she confessed quickly, making me frown. "A few days after we met, I heard you play the piano and I just... I watched you while you wrote a song." My traits softened and she pressed her lips together. "The first time I heard you sing... fuck, Niall. You... you have no idea of all the feelings it brought inside me. Your voice just does something to me. That's... that's why I teared up earlier when you sang to me. Your voice just does that to me. You. You do that to me."

I moved my face closer and brushed my nose very slowly against hers.

"Your art does the same to me. Devie, your art moves me in a way nothing else moves me, except... except you." I admitted in a whisper. "The day I told you that you had paint on your face... I walked to your painting class and searched for the painting with that shade of blue. Nothing else brought so many feelings in me. It made me compose a song in half an hour."

"My... art moves you?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows. "I move you?"

"Yes, you do." I confirmed, staring in her eyes to be sure she understood I was seriously. "All of you." I paused and shook my head. "Devie, I-"

She cut me by crushing her mouth against mine but I was not sure if it was to stop me from confessing my love or simply because of an intense need inside of her. I chuckled against her mouth as her hand slipped to my butt before moving up on my back.

"You're gonna have to show me those pictures."

"I will." she promised as I kissed her lips again. "Tomorrow."

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dadoroki · 4 years

Text

Every Comic Has A Story

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: softboi shiggy, fluff, swearing

Summary: When Japan’s most dangerous villain meets a witty and flirty comic store clerk.

The mall was unsurprisingly packed, as it was the weekend. Everyone had something to do or somewhere to go. Shopping for items, chatting with friends. Not for Shigaraki though.

After his tight encounter with Midoriya, he walked the crowded mall all alone, stuck in his own thoughts. How could he become stronger? To become better than Stain? To defeat All Might? His thoughts would be dispersed when a loud angry voice boomed from his right side.

“How many times do I gotta tell you kids? This stuff is 18+!” Shigaraki turned his attentive gaze towards your voice, a voice that could instantly gain anyone’s attention. Well, aside from how loud it was. He slowly walked into the store, staring at a messy rack full of comics but secretly eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Ma’am, I’m 18! See?” The boy handed you an ID card, one that instantly made you aware of how fake it was. The card was poorly constructed and taped for crying out loud. “You all look 12. Now get lost before I call one of those bad guys to come down and beat your asses.” The boys ran out of the shop in a hurry, fearing for their lives. You turned your attention to the new customer who wore his black sweater a bit too suspiciously. “Aye, you.”

Shigaraki calmly turned his head towards your direction. He was sure to cover his face, hanging his head down low. “You’re lookin’ hella suspicious. Did you come here to shoplift?” He stood in his place, squinting his eyes at the ground. Were you always this talkative and annoying? “Are you profiling me?”

You were taken aback by his response, moving your hands and shaking your head frantically. “Uh, no. Not at all. Sorry.” His face filled with annoyance, moving to grab a random comic and walking to your counter. You glanced at the book he chose, ‘Pretty Princess Diaries’. A giggle couldn’t help but escape your lips, causing Shigaraki to grow more agitated. You reached under the counter and grabbed a more suitable comic for him. “I think you’d enjoy this better. It’s about the psychology of the villain, Memphis, and how he defeats the heroes.”

There was no reason as to why he even stepped foot in the comic store but this was perfect for Shigaraki. It would give him many ideas and ways to help in the current situation he was in. However, he wasn’t willing to pay the price. “I don’t feel like buying this.” He began to lower his final finger on the cover page, ready to deteriorate it. That way, you’d be frightened by him. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s on the house.”

He removed his entire hand completely away from the comic, watching you take it and place it in a white bag. Confusion was the only emotion he was feeling. You handed him the bag with a smile. Even though you could barely see his face, he strongly caught your interest. He looked mysterious and interesting. Or maybe you’ve just been reading too many romance themes. “If you like it, come back and get the next one.”

Shigaraki looked at you with disgust, fully aware of the love eyes you sent him. He mumbled a quick “sure” and left the store, hoping to never step foot inside ever again.

When he got back from the long travel, he tossed the bag to the side and slumped on his cold bed. He glanced at the plastic bag before pulling out the comic and taking a long look at it. A dark matte cover, red cheapfire font imprinted in the center, and underneath was the main villain. Shigaraki had nothing else better to do so he decided to read only a bit of it. Going from one page, to thirteen, to forty, until it reached the end. He wasn’t aware but it was already 4am in the morning.

Shigaraki entered the store, the same place he refused to step foot in again. He placed the white bag on the counter, setting his empty hands back in his pockets. “I need the next one.” You could barely understand him through his mumbling, causing you to lean in closer. You noticed a few of his hidden features. His fragile face, chapped lips. Chapped lips?

“Nah, what you really need is some chapstick for those crusty ass lips.” You grabbed your cherry lip balm from your purse, holding it out to him with a wink. “You can have mine. It’s my favourite flavour.” Shigaraki snatched the item from your hand, shoving it in his pocket with a huff of annoyance. Your flirtatious presence really started to get on his nerves.

This would be his last visit to you and he couldn’t wait to leave but then, a thought popped off in his head. He needed a pawn to do his dirty work. The work that he nor his group could carry out due to the huge attention it would gain. He needed someone who was as easy as you. “You know, you’re quite a view.”

You raised a brow, not expecting the sudden compliment. “Oh, thanks.” Shigaraki wasn’t the best at flirting but he needed to try in order to fully wield you in. “When’s your lunch break?” You sat straighter in your chair, a smile slowly forming across your face. You weren’t really sure when but you knew your friend would cover your shift if he knew about the situation. “I can end now. Eijiro!” You called in the back room. “I need you to cover my shift please.”

Without even waiting for a response, you grabbed your purse and stood beside an irritated Shigaraki. He didn’t expect to be hanging out with you so soon and wasn’t fully mentally prepared for your excessive energy. It was going to be a long dreadful day.

You both sat on the edge of the water fountain, ice cream in hand. It had only been an hour and Shigaraki was ready to end himself. You gladly licked your ice cream while he sat still, staring at you. Everything about you annoyed him. The way you sat perfectly under the mall sunroof or how graceful you looked eating your ice cream. You took notice of the way his pinky extended away from his cone. “What are you, British?” You pointed at his finger, causing him to look down at it. “I don’t think all British people do that.”

You shrugged your shoulders, standing up from your spot. He followed your movements, his height causing him to look down on you. You embraced him in a tight hold, feeling the rigidness of his body. “I had a great time. By the way, what’s your name?”

He wasted no time in saying his name, incapable of standing your presence any longer. “Shigaraki.” Finally, you’d regret spending the day with him and leave him alone. You stood there silent in confusion, resting a finger on your chin. “Huh, like the villain?” Holy shit, this girl was dumber than he thought. “Anyways I gotta go. Come by tomorrow so we can do this again.” You left him speechless, standing all alone in the middle of the busy mall.

He was sure of giving up. You weren’t worth all the mental suffering but here he was with you again, walking around the same mall. Earlier, he had mentioned how he hated holding hands so instead, you linked your arm with his while he had his hands in his pockets. The big advertisement sign of skincare caught your attention, stopping you in your tracks and making him do the same. “Look Shigz, we should go in. You need that.”

You looked up at him with a cheeky smile, causing him to groan in revulsion. He wasn’t sure why he was going along with it. Applying chapstick was enough for him but to you, if it worked on his lips, it would definitely work on his face.

He noticed all the skin products on display, walking down the extremely bright aisle. He heard his nickname being called and turned around, feeling your soft hands rub against his face. “You said you had a skin condition so the employee recommended me this.” Shigaraki watched as you ran your fingers from his face, all the way down to his neck. He never recalled feeling another human’s touch in such a caring way.

You both made your way towards the counter, paying for the product and leaving. To his surprise, he actually bought the cream. The very first time in his life, he actually bought something instead of stealing it. You were a bad influence on him and his work and he needed nothing more than to depart from you.

“Shit, it’s almost time for my shift.” You stood on your tippy toes, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek before steadily jogging off. “I’ll see you soon!” Never in his life had he been given such affection. Shigaraki touched the area of where your lips had kissed with delicate fingers.

That night, he tossed and turned in his bed, struggling to find sleep. You were an internal battle to him. On one side, he hated your guts and wanted nothing more than to escape from you. On the other, he hated to say it but he enjoyed your company. The way you made him feel something he’d never felt in all his years of living. He decided at that moment, he’d confess to you. No, nothing romantic in any way but strictly his identity. The identity that you somehow failed to process.

“What do you mean she doesn’t work here?” The next day, Shigaraki stepped foot in the comic shop, only to be told you weren’t there. The new clerk adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re gonna have to describe her.” A now frustrated Shigaraki grew heavily impatient, not having the time to deal with this. He realized he never asked for your name, a stupid rookie mistake he made. “She’s this short, (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) eyes, a little slow, annoying, and dumb.”

The man shook his head with a puzzled face. “I’m sorry but I just started working here and I don’t know much of who works here.” Shigaraki scratched his neck, seconds away from decaying him but restraining himself. “What’s the point of asking me that question then?”

He walked out of the store defeated. Shockingly, he didn’t reach over the counter to kill the goof. You really were a bad influence on him. A moment of walking later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. “Shigz.”

He recognized the fine voice all too clearly. He started to broil in anger. In a matter of seconds, he quickly spun around to face you. “Where were you? I tried visiting you and you weren’t there.” You were astounded, never witnessing Shigaraki this mad before. Usually, he was calm and quiet. “I quit my job. They weren’t paying good.”

He closed his eyes, letting the stress leave his body. “Listen closely.” He opened his red eyes which met yours. In that instant, he wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to express how he felt but his feelings were too complicated and corrupted. “Like I said, I’m Tomura Shigaraki. The leader of the League of Villains.”

“Uh, yeah. You already told me.” He paused in perplexity, having the inability to speak or understand the situation. What did you mean you already knew? For the longest time, he thought you weren’t the brightest and he was okay with that. You began to laugh, trying to maintain it with a hand clasped on your mouth. “Did you really think I didn’t know? It was pretty obvious, Shigz. I just wanted to get to know you as you. Not how everyone sees you.”

He stood motionless feeling flabbergasted, allowing you to grab onto his arm. “I never asked you for your name.” If he never mentioned it, you’d had completely forgotten about it. “(Y/n).”

“(Y/n)” He trailed in a slight whisper, repeating after you. “Why don’t I take you on a proper date?”

With the biggest smile that warmed Shigaraki’s cold heart, you held him in closer.

“I would like that a lot.”

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the-starless-sky · 5 years

Text

A Day Off of Loitering and Investigation

A translation of the first chapter of Jujutsu Kaisen’s first light novel “Departing Summer and Returning Autumn” by Akutami Gege and Kitakuni Balad.

A Day Off of Loitering and Investigation

If we are talking about the few “definite things” in this modern day and age, there are only three at best.

That Mito Koumon[1] will win.

That Sazae-san[2] will air on Sunday.

And lastly, that Kugisaki Nobara’s shopping will drag on for a long time.

Because of that, when Kugisaki said, “I want to go see Ame-yoko[3],” Fushiguro had prepared himself for the outing that will surely take a long time. It would probably take around same time as when Gojou suddenly shows up on a Sunday morning and suddenly said, “Megumi, let’s go to Parque Espana[4],”.

What’s out of his prediction was that Itadori wasn’t too keen on going.

He had thought that a television-person like Itadori would show interest in famous spots like Ame-yoko, but he said:

“No, I have some place else I want to go.”

“Oh, that so. Then let’s meet up after.”

And then they all readily move on their own afterwards.

For Fushiguro who had accepted the natural fact that he would get stuck in the middle of Itadori and Kugisaki’s noisiness, it was as surprising as the fact that corbel pieces actually don’t contain that much iron.

Of course, Fushiguro also thought to make use of the situation and move alone.

He’d go home quickly - after all, he wanted to read the continuation of the book he’d bought the other day, and he also wanted to arrange his table’s drawer and his closet.

Even so, Fushiguro is a fundamentally earnest person.

A concern like: “is it alright to let Itadori, Sukuna’s host be?” kept crossing his mind no matter what.

When we’re talking about the area around Ueno and Okachimachi[5], it is a town filled with life and history.

In the hustle-bustle from the post-war market town that continued until modern day, strange ghost stories run rampant and there lies a possibility that not yet active curses are concealing themselves somewhere.

Moreover, it’s Itadori, a person whom if you let go from your sight will suddenly buy a shitty sunglasses, and who had said Tachikawa’s[6] “essentially Shinjuku”.

If Itadori, by chance, got lost and strayed until Chiyoda Ward[7], he’d just think of it as a lucky spot, and take Instagram-able photos in Masakadozuka[8].

That’s the reason why Fushiguro chose to move with Itadori, but... truth to be told, he’s very much regretting it.

“So like, Fushiguro, if you don’t have any interest in Akiba[9], why are you even coming after me?”

“Shut up, don’t think about it.”

“’Kay. I really want to go through all of Akiba at once, y’know.”

“Do you have anything you want to buy? There’s probably nothing but manga, games, and electronics there.”

“Eh, sight-seeing. Shibuya or Shinjuku is also okay, but the Akiba I saw on TV has this otherworldly feeling to it... or, more like, it gave off a theme-park kinda feel?”

“Is it?”

If you live within the metropolitan area, you probably wont feel it, but in truth Akihabara is a strange city.

The atmosphere outside the station is particularly unique. It’s filled with anime culture to the brim as a matter of course, but in any case the amount of information from the advertisements are nasty.

The overflowing signboards with smiling game characters gave the town a theme park-y impression.

If you were to give another example, then it’s the cosplayers that sometimes mix in with the tight crowd. Maids devoting themselves to attracting customers and handing out flyers. And when you think a rare foreign car is going through the streets, for some reason a giant robot’s large scale model is being transported by a truck.

Is it possible to suppress Itadori’s curiosity in such a town? Impossible.

“Darn, Fushiguro. The game centers are lining up like convenient stores.”

“That’s ‘cause it’s Akiba.”

“Darn, Fushiguro. The maid-sans kept coming enthusiastically.”

“That’s ‘cause it’s Akiba.”

“Whoa! Fushiguro! Is that an ecchi game? Isn’t that a billboard for an ecchi game? Uwaah, is it okay, that kind of huge billboard... Oh no, I’m still a minor, will I get scolded?”

“Shut up!”

It’s a fundamentally noisy city, but for Fushiguro, Itadori’s three times noisier.

There’s still a few hours until the meet up with Kugisaki.

If he thought about that, Fushiguro’s head ached. Unknowing of Fushiguro’s feelings, Itadori was nonchalant, without a care in the world.

“I’m glad Fushiguro’s with me. This area’s so messy I’d get lost.

”It’s better than Shinjuku.”

“Don’t force that Tokyo-sense on me. Vending machines where you can use electronic money on every door, Pepper-kun[10] in front of shops, a city on this level’s only Tokyo, you know?”

“No, there really aren’t that much Pepper-kun.”

“In Sendai, you can only see it in ‘Man-made Onsen, Toposu’[11], you know.”

“Don’t pull out local shop names like it’s natural. Where the hell’s that?”

“In super sentou[12].”

“Pepper-kun being in super sentou feels more culturally advanced, ain’t it.”

“Well, well, well, anyways, rather than alone, being together with someone who’s knowledgeable about the area’s definitely more reassuring. I’m still not good with subways even now, after all.”

“There shouldn’t be anyone getting lost around the Yamanote-sen[13].”

“Aah, there it is, the Tokyoite-sense. Naturally coming out like that.”

“In reality, you don’t get lost that much anyways, do you. ‘Cause you went here and there day after day.”

“Ah, Fushiguro. Let’s eat kebab, kebab.”

“Continue the conversation, damn it.”

Fushiguro had felt that Itadori and Gojou’s rhythm are quite similar, but now that he’s by himself talking with only Itadori, that feeling only grew stronger.

After all, conversational catch-ball with Itadori is, at most, on the level of dodge ball. For Gojou, it’s more on the level of hitting-only golf, or a batting center[14].

Come to think of it, today he hasn’t seen Gojou in the dorms nor school. It’s up to him where he wanted to be during his day-off, but now that Fushiguro thought about it, Gojou really is a mystery.

As he thought such things, he let Itadori’s words in through his right ear and out through his left, going into his “gloss over” mode.

After all, it’s on almost the same frequency as the city’s noise, so if he’d just turn off his awareness he could just process it as part of the background, environment noise.

If he were to respond one by one, he’d just get tired. Nobody would tell him off even if he put his brain in energy-conserving mode, anyways.

By the way, speaking from the results, this action of his would end up making his anxiety worsen.

“...Ha?”

When he came to, Itadori was gone.

Fushiguro hurriedly turned his head, and he barely saw someone with red highlight on their hair going into the depths of a game center.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Playing a game. Ah, are you talking about the title?”

“No way in hell, you special grade idiot.”

After climbing to the fourth floor of the thin and vertically long building of the game center, Fushiguro finally found Itadori.

In the fighting game corner, going in deeper. Away from the areas where people who seemed super serious about gaming gathers, in the retro game corner where one credit to play starts from 50 yen, there he was, that Itadori.

Moreover, he’s sitting in front of an especially boring looking game machine.

As he pouted, he explained how he got there to Fushiguro.

“I mean, you know, it’s not realistic wasting hours of time just walking around outside, right. There are a lot of game centers, so I thought, why not.”

“At least say something before steering away to the side.”

“I did.”

“...”

As Fushiguro’s the one who had glossed over Itadori’s conversations, while feeling a little bit awkward he changed the subject.

“By the way, what’s this game?”

“No matter how you see it, it’s ‘Battle Corporation Warrior, Business Fighter’ isn’t it.”

“I won’t know it’s ‘Battle Corporation Warrior, Business Fighter’ no matter how I see it.”

“It’s also my first time seeing it so I’m not really sure, too.”

The game Itadori chose looked extraordinarily boring it’s miraculous.

It seemed like a fighting game, but the characters are mostly old men who looked like company employees, and everyone uses business suits properly that it’s hard to differentiate who’s who.

Even if it only costs 50 yen, Itadori’s resolution to spend money on this game is an amazing thing. Well, if he’s like this then guess he would eat Sukuna’s fingers, imprudently Fushiguro thought.

Without caring about such Fushiguro, Itadori seem to be running as usual.

He’s even looking for a competition.

“On the contrary, I’ll just ask you: you’re not going to play, Fushiguro? It’s a fighting game machine.”

“I don’t want to pay money for that kind of game.”

Even so, a fighting game machine is supposed to be played by fighting another person.

Moreover, to play an already-boring looking game like this alone just feels empty. No matter how much Fushiguro didn’t want to play, Itadori wanted to at least fight with him.

“What the heck, you’re running away? By the way, don’t tell me you’re actually bad at games, Fushiguro? You don’t have any confidence that you could win against me?”

“It’s not confidence I don’t have, it’s the will to play.”

“If you run away here it’d be treated as a loss by default, you know! Are you okay with that!?”

“Do what you like.”

“No, really, please! Then I’ll even pay for your share!”

“Are you serious? ...Sheesh.”

Losing to Itadori’s persistence, who’d even start to talk about paying - or, actually, Fushiguro just don’t want to see Itadori begging like that, so in the end he put in his own money and sat in front of the machine directly opposite to Itadori’s.

No matter what, a fighting game’s of course funner to play with two people.

As he felt deeply grateful for Fushiguro who’d finally relented, Itadori cheerfully started choosing his character.

“Then, I’ll go with ‘Company President Yamada’.”

“...Then I’ll go for ‘Chief Clerk Oosaki’.”

“What, youre going with him, the initial cursor character? Well, I guess he’d be easy to use, so it should fit a beginner like Fushiguro.”

“Didn’t you just say you’ve only seen this game for the first time?”

“Actually, before you got here, I managed to get to the third stage of the arcade mode.”

Anyways, finally the battle starts between the two of them.

“Eat this! The sure-win tactics I devised in fifteen minutes!”

“That’s a hell of a short training.”

Immediately after the battle starts, Itadori used the easy command, ‘Business Card Shuriken’ repeatedly.

The Chief Clerk Oosaki that Fushiguro controlled jumped up to dodge Yamada’s shurikens that comes in an equal intervals, surely approaching the latter. When one thought he’d turn to a strong kick after jumping in, he actually threw Yamada and forced him to the side, as he viciously beat the latter.

“Eh? Huh? Wait, wait, Fushiguro. Isn’t that a a command technique? That’s a command technique, right!?”

“...”

Small punch, small punch, medium kick, medium kick, and to top it off Fushiguro used the ‘overtime gauge’ he managed to fill with the hits, triggering a super special lethal move, ‘Overtime Rage Fist’.

Fushiguro scored a brilliant victory.

“What the hell!? ...Eh, Fushiguro, how could you use special moves? You’re good at this game?”

“No, the command chart is there above the screen.”

“So you’re cheating!”

“You’re actually not that good at games, aren’t you?”

“No, even I could win if I used commands! One more, one more!”

“The heck, this idiot actually put in multiple coins…”

Itadori who had battled it out with Fushiguro for around an hour, still lost in the end.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

They both go down until the first floor’s UFO Catcher corner and bought a cola from the vending machine, engulfed by a sense of emptiness.

The feeling of aftershock left after the heat and enthusiasm cools down look very visible on their faces.

“Aah... why did I even spend 1000 yen on that shitty game...”

Fushiguro looked at Itadori, who’s currently hanging his head, with eyes that look like they’re looking at an idiot.

“If you’re satisfied already, we’re going out. You can kill time in game centers, but they eat your money.”

“That’s true... ah!”

“What? Just because you found another shitty game, I’m not going to play with you anymore.”

“No, that’s not it, Fushiguro, look, look at that!”

Fushiguro reluctantly looked at the direction Itadori pointed with narrowed eyes.

And then, his eyes widened in surprise.

“...Gojou-sensei?”

“Right?”

Truly, on the other end of the two’s sight is Gojou Satoru.

Rather, the only person who would walk inside a dim-lighted game center wearing an all-black clothes with a black blindfold can’t be anyone other than Gojou Satoru - it’s hard to think of anyone else.

“Eh... wait, Fushiguro, what’s Gojou-sensei doing?”

“Isn’t that an UFO Catcher? The ones where you could get snacks from.”

“Why? Is there a person who wanted to eat snacks so much they’d go to a game center alone and play an UFO Catcher by themselves?”

“Don’t ask me, how the hell should I know?”

“Ah, and he’s even giving up!”

“That’s fast.”

As Gojou pouted in discontent, he walked towards the game center exit with swaying steps.

Well, it was a hard to understand action, but perhaps it’s normal coming from a hard to understand person. Fushiguro decided to stop thinking too deeply.

But Itadori just couldn’t do the same.

“Okay, let’s follow him.”

“How’d it come to that?”

Itadori started to follow Gojou who had exited the game center. Fushiguro immediately drank his leftover cola, threw it in the trash can, and followed afterwards.

“I mean, don’t he look like he’s on his off mode? I feel like I don’t know what he’s up to when he’s in holidays or when he’s free.”

“And?”

“Of course we’re going to tail him.”

“Don’t say that so naturally.”

“I mean, in reality, don’t you feel curious, too? Surprisingly I feel like I don’t know Gojou-sensei that well. Of course, if you don’t feel like coming then you can just wait.”

“...”

In any case, despite all the conflicts the two had, they finally decided to tail Gojou together.

Gojou is a dependable teacher and a shaman they respected, for sure.

However, from the eyes of Gojou’s students, his frivolous personality, busyness, appearing in unexpected places at unexpected time, personal history, thoughts, and range of behavior, all point out to him being a man full of mystery. The figure of him nonchalantly walking around town was something you don’t see everyday.

In sum, Fushiguro decided to follow his curiosity.

He’s probably also very mentally exhausted from playing a shitty game with Itadori.

In any case, the two of them started to search for the figure of Gojou they had lost sight of.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

Gojou was, surprisingly, easily found.

“Fushiguro, isn’t that Gojou-sensei?”

“...You’re right.”

The next thing they sighted was Gojou, walking around as he ate crepes.

Looking from the package, it’s from the rather famous crepe shop looking out the main street.

It’s one of those extra ones with cream, tiramisu, macaron, and even chocolate spray.

There it was, the figure of a 190 cm adult walking around as he ate crepes that look like the dreams of all children.

“That’s amazing, Fushiguro. It’s not something you can just do when you feel like doing it.”

“No, you won’t even think of doing it in the first place.”

“Is it some kind of a sorcery training?”

“If you can get stronger by doing that, everyone’s gonna just do it.”

As they keep a steady distance, the two of them tailed the adult chewing on crepes.

Even in the city full of wonders, Akihabara, the sight still look quite out of place.

After he finished eating the crepes, Gojou stopped still in front of a rather old looking store.

“...Vacuum tube specialty store.”

Fushiguro looked at the sign Itadori read with a dubious expression.

After thinking for a while, Gojou stepped into the jumbled-up looking shop.

“He went into a really maniac shop, didn’t he.”

A dubious-looking Fushiguro. On the other hand, Itadori tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“By the way, what is a vacuum tube? I’ve heard that name before, though.”

“It’s an electronic component. The ones you use in old radio or audio player.”

“Is Gojou-sensei an audio maniac?”

“No, he looked like someone who’d just use YouTube to listen to music, don’t he.”

“Aah, yeah, he does have that kind of image.”

As they spoke to each other, Gojou came out of the shore with a paper bag. It seems like he’d bought something.

“Oh no, we’re going to lose him!”

Itadori went after Gojou who had turned into an alley, and Fushiguro followed suit.

They were a little late and lost him for a while, but one minute hadn’t passed and they’ve already found the tall man clad in black in the middle of the crowd.

“There he is, Fushiguro. As expected, Gojou-sensei stand out a lot. He’s huge, after all.”

“He’s around 2 meters, after all.”

“He look like he’s really strong at basketball, don’t he?”

“I can’t imagine him playing basketball at all, though.”

“Relatable.”

As the two came into an agreement, they followed after Gojou’s steps.

Tailing someone while keeping a steady distance in Akihabara’s complicated streets is quite a hard labor.

Because he’s tall, Gojou’s steps are wide and he walks fast, it feels like you’re going to lose him when he drift into the crowd.

Next, Gojou went to a second hand audio shop and rummaged through the paper-jacketed analog recordings.

“Earlier you said some things, but don’t you think he’s actually an audio mania, Fushiguro?”

“No, I’m sure he’s not.”

“But he’s looking at Bach’s recordings!”

“Does he look like he has any interest in classical music? That person?”

“No, he look like he’d listen to alternative rock.”

“See? It’s definitely weird.”

For a while, Gojou rummaged through the recordings exhibited on a wagon, and after buying an old movie’s BGM collection long play record, he left the store.

As they tailed him, Fushiguro became more and more suspicious.

Fushiguro thought that perhaps it’s just them that had different images of Gojou and he’s actually a person with vintage hobbies in his private life, but soon he rethought and ended up with: “Nah, no way.”

After walking a bit unsteadily for a while, Gojou stopped in front of a store with a yellow signboard.

“Fushiguro, what’s that shop?”

“...Capsule toy. It’s the so-called gachapon[15] specialty store.”

“What? A gachapon specialty store? They exists?”

“They exist, that’s why it’s Akiba.”

“That so? Ah, sensei’s pulling a gacha.”

“I really don’t want to see the sight of a teacher I know rolling a 500 yen gacha. ...What kinda gacha is that?”

“Mushroom keychains, right? The real ones.”

“If he’s going to spend 500 yen anyway, couldn’t he just go to a supermarket and buy one?”

“You really don’t understand, huh, Fushiguro. It’s good because you can’t be sure of what you’ll get.”

“I don’t want to understand that in my life time.”

“Ah, sensei’s opening the capsule, I wonder what he got?”

“Looking at the lineup, isn’t it a poisonous mushroom? He looks really frustrated, after all.”

“Buhahahahaha, I guess you can’t eat that!!”

“No, you can’t eat mushrooms that come out of a capsule toy no matter what it is.”

Gojou unwillingly put the keychain in his pocket, and continued to loiter around.

When you thought he went to a computer store just to hold a mouse, he moved into an electronic store and tried on an electronic massager on his shoulder.

And when you thought he’d vanished, he’s suddenly inside a book store, free-reading a manga, and moved into a sideway to look at old games on wagon sale. He moved around according to his interests, wherever he wanted to go.

“...It doesn’t look like he has a specific purpose in mind.”

“Seems so.”

Itadori, now suddenly wearing a strength-measuring goggles toy, replied to Fushiguro’s muttering.

“Where the hell did you buy that?”

“In some second hand shop. I thought Gojou-sensei would be interested since he reads manga, too.”

“You’re really light on your wallet, aren’t you.”

“A man is a creature that uses their money when they think it’s the right time.”

“Was that shitty game earlier also ‘the right time’?”

“Ah, Gojou-sensei went inside a building. No, that’s wrong, I meant his ‘energy’ went inside the building!”

“You don’t have to correct yourself.”

“Oh no, we’re going to lose him. We’re following him, Fushiguro!”

“No, wait.”

“Gueh!”

As Itadori was about to step into the building, Fushiguro pulled his parka’s hood to stop him. It’s a very dangerous act, so don’t imitate him.

“You wanna kill me or something!? What’s wrong, we’re already this far in and you want to stop tailing him halfway?”

“You... don’t you see the building’s signboard?”

“Eh? ...... Eh!?”

Itadori looked up as he was told.

Reading the signboard written in a pop font, his expression turned into that of a flustered one.

――Angel Maid Cafe, “SHOW WARU☆Cupid”[16]

The rather maniac cafe located in the second floor of the building.

No, it’s not like it’s an indecent store or something. It’s an ordinary cafe with maids serving the customers, that’s all.

Even so, for normal people, it’s the kind of shop that needs a lot of courage to go in to. It’s even worse for boys in their puberty.

“...... As expected this place’s a bit... no, even for Gojou-sensei’s level, this kind of place is really surprising.”

“Hey, his aim is probably this.”

The thing Fushiguro pointed towards was a poster on the wall. It advertised something like: “Authentic French technique! Exquisite pancakes that makes even patissiers groan!”

Indeed, that could be it, Itadori also nodded in agreement.

“This is definitely his aim, for sure. How much sweets is he planning to eat, anyways?”

“When he’s busy, Gojou-sensei tend to eat more sweets like these, after all...”

“Alright, now that the mystery’s solved, let’s stop tailing him. I mean, it’s embarrassing having to go in to a place like this.”

“That’s a clever decision for you.”

“――Welcome, Masters!”

“Eh?”

A cheerful voice filled with business enthusiasm jumped out from behind them.

It was a veteran maid who had thought of them as - and admittedly they do look the part - ‘customers who are hesitating whether or not to come in to the cafe’ called them out, looking to make them the cafe’s source of income.

That’s right. Neither Itadori’s genius physical senses nor Fushiguro’s polished curse presence-sensing abilities could catch on the maid’s presence.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

‘Did I do something bad in my past life?’, Fushiguro thought.

While looking on in blank surprise, he was pulled into the maid cafe together with Itadori.

As they were brought in, they were made to wear angel wings and halo made of plastic and wire, said to ‘let them feel heaven when they’re here’. Both his outside appearance and his mental condition is dead.

On the other hand...

“For first-time customers, we recommend the Precious Set - Mellow-mellow A~” [17]

“Eh... I see. Well, I guess for the first time it’s better to just leave it up to the staff. We’ll get two of the Precious Sets. With extra melancholy.”

“Understood, Mastereincarnation☆”[18]

“Eh, what’s with that cool sounding word. Is it German?”

“It’s English☆”

“So it’s English!”

Just like that, Itadori’s already talking normally with the maid.

Naturally cheerful people... or, more like, those with party-people tendencies, and people with positive, bright vibes usually do well in places like this.

On the other hand, earnest-by-nature people like Fushiguro have the most difficulty in situations like this.

Fushiguro could feel his heart dying by the second just by looking at the fact that he’s currently sitting across Itadori, wearing a pair of angel wings and halo.

“And hey, Fushiguro, it’s about the crucial thing, but...”

“What?”

“As expected, seems like sensei’s aim was the pancake.”

“......... Yeah...”

The most important part of this investigation, Gojou, had especially sat down on the seat by the window where you can only see the neighboring building, and has since started his tea time, eating the pancake in grace.

He wore the angel cosplay very naturally as if it was his uniform, yet the way he sipped his cappuccino look like he was from a hard-boiled novel. The way he made himself ‘at home’ was in a different dimension when compared to first-time customers like Itadori and Fushiguro.

On the other hand, even taking into account the fact that Fushiguro is still a beginner, he’s almost on his limit. If he could, he’d leave this place even a second faster.

“Oi. Now that we know Gojou-sensei’s true aim, if you’re satisfied then let’s get out of here.”

“Eeh, but I ordered already.”

“Just pay for it and get out.”

“But it’s not good if the food we ordered go to waste, right?”

“...Well, that’s true, but...”

Fushiguro wanted to leave the cafe even if it meant paying for nothing, but he’s a kind person in nature, so when he’s told something like that, he just couldn’t complain.

On the other hand, his eyes that look like the deepest gulf peeking into the night, started to look duller and duller. Once again, Fushiguro attempted to turn off his awareness.

Numbness is a safety device for the living. He must protect his heart at all costs - or else, it wouldn’t be strange for a curse to be born.

It was a stark contrast to Itadori, who, despite being restless, look like he’s excited to try out an attraction in a theme park.

However, the maid cafe’s true baptism starts from here.

“Here’s Precious Set - Mellow-mellow A~”

The true form of Precious Set that one couldn’t ever guess from the menu at all is actually an ordinary looking omurice[19].

On top of the plate was a panda drawn with ketchup - and, it’s most probably a coincidence, but it look like Panda-senpai so much that Fushiguro’s heart ached.

On the empty spaces in the plate was written words like ‘Precious...! Makes me feel frazzled...!’, but the only one actually frazzled here is Fushiguro.

On the other hand, Itadori’s already completely adapted to the situation.

“Well then, I’m going to ask for Masters to add on even more melancholy on the dish~”

“What should I do to add on the melancholy?”

“Please tell me one precious, melancholic, and emotionally moving scene from your favorite anime! If you can make me feel melancholic without telling me the title, you pass~”

“Eeh. Dang, it’s kinda hard to choose. ...Ah, then that one where the main character is a boy who really admires heroes.”

“Me too, I watch that, too. It’s one of my favorites~”

“There’s this character with an inferiority complex towards his father... and then there’s the scene where he remembered that he wanted to become a hero, and he finally used the ‘left hand’ that he never used. I like that one.”

“Ah~ That’s a definitive episode, that one. But the scene choice is too cliche, so try another one!”

“Ah, then another anime. The main character lives in the ninja village. At first he got ostracized by his friends, but then he grew up and there’s this scene where he’s finally recognized as a proper ninja and got tossed up high in the air by his comrades...”

“Ah~ that’s a really emotional scene, isn’t it~”

“And the part where the teacher, who was his only ally, looked at him and got moved to tears... it’s definitely something you can’t miss.”

“Ah~ you’re going in really on point, aren’t you~”

“The part where they said, ‘Right now, there’s a hero in front of me’, right?”

“I understand, I understand so well~~~~ That’s super extra melancholic, and because I feel hit right on the heart should I add on a topping for you?”

“Ah, so it’s that kind of system?”

“It’s a 400 yen a la carte menu, ‘Melancholy Potato’ add-on~”

“Wahh, that makes no sense――! So much carbohydrate!”

“Well then, let’s say it together: Emo――i!”[20]

“Emo――i!”

In a rather messy fashion, the potato was added on on top of the plate.

It’s definitely got that ‘refrigerated food’ feel, but it seems for an a la carte it goes for 400 yen. When you’re having fun you stop caring about such things, but Fushiguro was so bothered he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help but to get bothered about various things.

And when he thought so, the tip of the blade is now aimed at him.

“This Master, too, together~!”

“Come on, Fushiguro, there’s topping there, too!”

“Okay, e――moi!”

“E――moi!”

“...”

Fushiguro didn’t reply. However, the event continued.

“Well, now that we have added on the topping, let’s take a cheki[21] with the dish. Okay, come closer, come closer~”

“Eh, there’s that kind of thing in this cafe?”

“Because it’s the Preciouse Set.”

“Heeh, I don’t understand at all but I see!”

“There’s this heavenly-feel, right?

“I dunno, is there? Might be.”

“...”

“Well then, excuse me for sitting beside you~”

“Eh, aren’t you too close? I’m a bit embarrassed about these kinds of things.”

“You have to experience this kind of embarrassment to be an adult, you know~”

“Is that true?”

“Yup, it is~ Here goes, cheki☆”

“Che-cheki!”

“...”

“Thank you very much~”

“Oh darn, this is so embarrasing! Wah, my face’s so hot! It feels like I just paid off a really important thing! Am I okay? I’m still a minor!”

“Kyaa~ You’re so innocent it’s cute~ Well then, the Master over there, let’s go.”

“After all, the type of closeness is different to that of a folk dance. Fushiguro, be careful! You’ll get embarrassed! Super embarrassed!”

“Please prepare for taking the cheki~!”

“Fushiguro, it’s gonna start.”

“........................ No.”

Echoed a fragile, feeble, delicate voice like that of a dying duck.

“............ I’m......... okay......”

Fushiguro has finally reached his limits.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

“Aah, I unexpectedly ate a lot. But the taste’s kind of ordinary, wasn’t it.”

“The inside of my mouth’s dried because of all the potatoes.”

Thirty minutes passed.

Fushiguro and Itadori safely got out of heaven that took 500 yen to go in to.

“Fushiguro, I got the cheki we took earlier, you want it?”

“The next time you joke like that, I’m going to jam in paprika up your nose.”

“Isn’t it just something you don’t like! No, I understand, I understand that’s the limit to your harassment!”

“There’s a temple near Kanda. We’re going to burn the photos there.”

“Does it have to be in a temple!?”

“The only thing to do to cursed pictures is burning it for offering.”

“I’m sorry, okay! I didn’t know you were in that much pain!”

From Itadori’s perspective, Fushiguro always looked like he’s in a bad mood, but today, once again he got a look at ‘an actually angry Fushiguro’.

Now that it’s become like this, even Itadori couldn’t get into his usual rhythm.

A bit awkwardly, he thought of how to continue the conversation as he scratched his cheek - and then finally he decided to go back to the start of everything.

“B-by the way, in the end we lost Gojou-sensei, huh.”

“Yeah, but who cares about that.”

“Wa-waah, I wonder where he went......”

“What’s this about me?”

““Uwaaaaah!?””

The person who stepped into their somewhat awkward atmosphere in a suprising timing was Gojou, appearing from behind them.

Moreover――

“Go-Gojou-sensei! Since when were you behind us...... huh? Kugisaki’s here, too? Why?”

“Don’t ‘why’ me, you ass.”

Behind Gojou, Kugisaki shows up in a bad mood... or rather, full of malice and resentment.

For Itadori, it would be that another angry classmate shows up.

“Eeh... Even Kugisaki’s in a bad mood.”

“Of course I’d be. Because you guys loitered around Gojou-sensei, we...”

“Oh, come to think of it, Gojou-sensei, is it your day off today?”

“Don’t ignore me, you!”

Sensing that Kugisaki would complain in a more assertive fashion than Fushiguro, Itadori quite bluntly changed the subject.

Although, in the end, the subject didn’t change.

“No, I’m working as usual.”

“Eh? But you ate crepes and walked around town...”

“If you’re as busy as me, you wouldn’t have time to walk around town and making rediscoveries if not as you work, y’know. I might look like that but I’m actually doing my job.”

“And that is?”

“Looking for a dungeon.”

“...... Dungeon?”

“To use a different term, I’m looking for a nice cursed spot that could be used by the first years to acquire experience. In other words, I’m doing preliminary inspection.”

“.........Yes?”

The memories from when he’d first transferred to the Curse Technical College resurfaced on the back of Itadori’s mind.

That day, they were going to sight-see Tokyo, but in the end they had to participate in a curse exorcism recreation in an abandoned building.

Gojou continued indifferently.

“That maid cafe’s neighboring building’s mostly empty of tenants, but a strange rumor seems to have shown up on the internet, you see. And, because of the old record shop with quite a long history rented the place, the curse story’s credibility went up.”

“Ahh, that’s why you kept looking at the window despite there being nothing to see but the building.”

“Then, this is supposed to be a task for another day, but in a happy coincidence, the three first years are all present, so... ‘This is nice, I’ll just have them challenge it today!’, I thought.”

“Eh... eh!?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve moved around the amp abandoned in the building, played recordings like what’s written on the rumors, and other stuff to provoke the cursed spirit. So, you guys will be able to meet a very lively cursed spirit no problem!”

“......... Eeh...”

Itadori immediately moved his gaze towards Kugisaki.

He finally understood the reason for her face full of resentment.

In contrast, Fushiguro looked sharp and firm.

“Alright, we’re going.”

“Wh-why are you so eager!?”

“I feel much better doing this than going to a game center or a maid cafe.”

“Eh, what, you guys went to a maid cafe? Forget Itadori, but you too, Fushiguro? You look composed but you’re actually a lecher, huh, all of you!”

“It was inevitable.”

“What do you mean, forget about me!?”

“Who cares, let’s go.”

“That’s why I’m asking, why are you already in battle mode, Fushiguro!?”

“’Cause Megumi didn’t get the chance to show his abilities in the abandoned building the other day, he’s still all about it.”

“I’m not all about that.”

“No, your face clearly looks like you’re all about it.”

“You’re actually the type to hold a grudge for a long time, aren’t you.”

“Well then everyone, be careful on the way. I’m going to go eat age-manjuu[16].”

“You’re still going to eat!?”

“Let’s just go.”

“Don’t ‘let’s go’ me! Shit, good bye, my day off――――!”

“My Ame-yoko―――!”

From a day off gone wrong, being able to get in touch with a shaman’s ‘usual atmosphere’ helped Fushiguro recover quite a bit.

On the other hand, there are Itadori who had his satisfying holiday cut off, and Kugisaki who’d missed eating Ame-yoko’s specialty, Hyakka-en’s fruits[22].

Gojou saw off the three, noisily heading to exorcise the cursed spirit, with his usual light smile.

“Hm?”

Something fell off from Itadori’s pocket. What is it? Gojou tilted his head in question as he picked it up.

And the next moment, he burst into a laugh.

“Mm, hahahahahahahahahaha!”

Gojou couldn’t stop laughing as the image leapt into his sight.

“Ku, kukuku......... Aren’t they actually having the time of their life, those youngsters.”

80% of his smile was due to the strangeness.

20% of it was due to the pleasantness.

It was said that for some time, Gojou laughed with the picture of Itadori and Fushiguro with a maid wearing angel wings in hand.

Megumi-sama ♥ ♥ Please come again!!

Notes

(p.s. I'm not very sure about some of these, please do tell me if I got anything wrong.)

[1] Mito Koumon is the titular character (also a real person, his other name is Tokugawa Mitsukuni) of a period drama. Each episode always end with Mito Koumon, in a disguise, winning in a brawl against bad guys.

[2] Sazae-san is the name of an anime that has aired every Sunday since 1946 in Japan.

[3] Ame-yoko is an area in Tokyo famous for its shopping districts.

[4] Parque Espana is a Spanish theme park in Japan.

[5] Ueno and Okachimachi is also area in Tokyo.

[6] Tachikawa is a town in Okachimachi.

[7] Chiyoda ward is a special ward located in central Tokyo.

[8] Masakadozuka is the tomb of a beheaded hero.

[9] Akiba is the short term for Akihabara.

[10] Pepper-kun is a really famous robot from Japan.

[11] Onsen is a hot spring.

[12] Super sentou: sentou means a public bath, but in super sentou they have much more facilities than a simple bath, like sweets shops, terrace, and rest areas.

[13] Yamanote-sen is a railway loop line in Tokyo. It goes through famous places like Shibuya, Shinjuku, and Ikebukuro.

[14] It's a place with a ball machine (like Mechamaru during the baseball event) that you use to just... hit balls with a bat.

[15] That small machine you put in money and roll to get some surprises. Some of them are really expensive...

[16] SHOW悪 is, I think, a pun on 性悪 (shouwaru) = ill-natured.

[17] 尊みセット・エモエモ A. I'm not sure how to translate this (this whole maid cafe sequence is giving me a headache), but 尊い (toutoi) means precious. It's usually an otaku language when one talks about their favorite characters. エモ (emo or emoi) means emotional or melancholic. It's also usually used as an otaku language.

[18] かしこまリィンカネーション☆　= Understood-reincarnation. How am I supposed to make this work.

[19] Omelette rice.

[20] I give up. It's emoi. It's just emoi.

[21] Cheki is those polaroid pictures you take with idols, usually.

[22] Hyakka-en is a fruit store that's apparently very famous. Kind of expensive (but fruits are expensive in general in Japan), and for older fruits they chop it up and place it on a stick.

Honestly the novel is a treasure chest full of cute moments and amazing characterization information. I really love it - it’s probably my best buy. If you love Jujutsu Kaisen, you should really buy the book!

By the way, they’re going to release a second light novel soon.

#jujutsu kaisen #translation #light novel translation #fushiguro megumi #itadori yuuji #kugisaki nobara #gojou satoru

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