#to make an oc just so they can hang out with mirage
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image id: a two digital drawings of the same humanoid robot. their chassis is mostly white, brown and black and their head is a flat rectangle of sort, it has an awning and a single headphone with an antenna on the left side.on the right side of its “face” there is a yellow visor. the first, bigger drawing shows it walking with one of its hand in its pocket, waving at the viewer. they’re wearing a red skirt, a white button up shirt, a black jacket and a red tie. the other drawing is a lot smaller and shows it posing with one leg bent and raised, its left hand extended at its side and its right hand pointing up, its outfit doesn’t change much except that now it is wearing black pants instead of a dress. the background is black with a light blue square. in the top left corner there is text saying “murphy moore, any pronouns”. end id
#would you guys still love me if i made an oc for a secret level in a first person shooter. would you#art#doodle#ultrakill oc#<-might as well#oc#robot#anyways for anyone reading the tags he's inspired by various rovers n stuff like that#he's mirage's friend etc etc you know the drill. it's not#unrealistic btw hot people love me irl actually so i could be her bestie heart emoji#yeah. um moore's a self insert of sort just bc i found all imperfect lovesong very. comforting to me and i also think it would be funny#to make an oc just so they can hang out with mirage#lalalal i'm not reading what i wrote again if it's incomprehensible thats your problem#gripping the sink this is not cringe it makes me happy
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sandwings or seawings or both :) they are my favorite tribes
awesome, yes! i have multiple guys here
sandwings
unfortunately i only have the one mostly figured out sandwing, but she’s the greatest so it’s fine. her name is Queen Mirage and she wants nothing more than to Take Over The World, and her current plan involves her rogue rainwing gf Hummingbird (who’s whole thing is making Evil Deals and selling poisons + weapons,) manipulating other dragons into murdering all the current queens in order to destabilize things. these evil women are very special to me <3333
seawings
i’ve probably got the most developed story with my three main seawing characters, Urchin, Oyster, and Horizon. (important things to note: all my ocs exist in a hypothetical future about a generation and a half after the last wof book, borders are tense and the seawings have basically hidden in the sea the whole time and don’t leave often) (also Urchin and Oyster are pretty close, Oyster having repeatedly protected Urchin from their mom)
Urchin and Oyster are the two oldest children of Queen Otter, but the biggest issue here is her heir, Urchin, is transgender. and Doesn’t want to be queen. Oyster? is also transgender. she’s also always kept to herself, and has been pretty closeted her whole life. and Urchin only realizes himself when he meets Horizon (they/them,) a mysterious loner who dresses him up and helps him figure out his identity, Urchin regularly sneaking out of the palace to go hang out with his hot boygirlfriend who validates his gender identity.
but uh-oh, Urchin hasn’t seen Horizon in a while, he’s wondering where they are. they don’t have to worry too long, though, as pretty soon he finds them. killing his mom (due to orders from Hummingbird but he doesn’t know that yet.)
and now things are different. Horizon is gone, and the pressure is on Urchin to be the new queen. and like, his mom was hella transphobic and generally just unkind to him and his siblings, but it’s still a bummer, y’know? so he’s not doing great. so basically the day he’s supposed to become queen, he quickly shifts attention to Oyster and declares that she’s the rightful heir to the throne and also implies that he’s making her queen now, much to the confusion of just about everyone, and he just up and leaves. he leaves the palace, he leaves the city, he even leaves the seawing kingdom for the first time, with a couple goals in mind, mostly to find himself for real, but also to track down Horizon so he can yell at them for a while.
and yell at them he eventually does. as well as make some interesting friends along the way.
below the cut is all the art i’ve done for characters mentioned
Queen Mirage and Hummingbird
Urchin and Horizon
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Hi everyone! I'm GreenElectricSky and this is my blog, mainly about Cats. Also my earlier posts about flowers and every other stuff I liked are here. Now, what is not related to Cats will be published/rebloged on @violetskyatnight :) Because it's become problematic I also made a blog only for my fanfiction and Cats Scenes, so if you like to see them go to @moonyskyallthetime :)
Those are my main OCs:
Cysiek and TuśTuś:
Cysiek is more my OC when TuśTuś is more my catsona, as they are more similar to me:) They are Tugger and Munku's twins.
My Cats Scenes are tagged #i think im funny. I'm doing them almost daily from 12.07.2023, so it's a solid number now :) Also, now they are linked together, so have fun. And my writing is tagged "my writing" ;) It can happen I post here links to my other fiction too.
Although, because it was a problem a few times, I want to say one thing loud and clear: PERSONALLY I DON'T SHIP INCEST AND CHILD/ADULT. It doesn't mean YOU can't - if you like it, it's your fun, not mine, so we probably won't talk about it and we're cool. If I ship someone you think they are siblings or kittens, in MY headcanon they are NOT. (I have a lot of ships, so when I write tuggerstrap they aren't brothers but when I write tuggoffelees, then yes, there is a big chance Tugger and Munku are brothers, etc.) I hope it's clear now :)
This blog is LGBTQIA+ friendly. It's also friendly to everyone who behave respectfully to others. I don't want to be part of any kind of war in fandom, I'm too old and peaceful for this shit. Pro-shippers, shippers, non-shippers are welcomed here.
I hope we all can have fun together, be fans and show our love for Cats in every form we like!
If you want to ask, then ask, I would love to respond to your questions. Also about my OCs to Cats (TuśTuś, Cysiek, Mirage, FinFun, FanFanGrace, Cream, Tango, Papyrus, Sky, Silenia, Jemmysweets, Adonis, Star, Sun, Moon, Shyny, Haze, Oranglow, SpicyJuice, Amberlina, FlowerFlow, EarthyRose, HoneyTrap, AlmonDisco, Vanilliarity, Bumblee, Tikku. More about them here) or any other things you like. If you want to just be friends I also love to know you better, start a talk, don't be shy :) But please, don't send me anons with luck chains or other things like "and tag another ten mutuals/blogs" because it's... Creepy? From anon I can take the real question because someone can want to know but is shy or something, I can understand that. Chains only from not anons, please :)
P.S. My pronouns are they/them here, he/him. Please, not girl, she/her!!!
P.S.II (08.12.2023) I wanted to do something for less appreciated pairings/ships, other relationships too and started to do it in my advent calendar (now with tag #advent calendar and #cats advent calendar). If you want something with them or any other pairings/ships I didn't write send me a prompt, ship and tag (or at last two of them) and you get something! HERE (another update 16.04.24, 16.02.24, 07.01.24, 28.12.23, 25.12.2023) is a list of pairings/ships/ and other kinds of relationships (with tags) I'm making (here or somewhere else like my published/no published fanfiction). If there isn't your ship - don't worry, I can write it too and even add it to that list :) One thing - I'm not doing abusive/toxic relationships, because... well, because just no.
2023! Achievements!!!!!
Lovies!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
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4, 12, and 28 for ocs of your choice?
Good morning, thank you for the ask! :D
4. What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?
Cyrus- cyrus used to play piano! he stopped for a few reasons (lack of time, associations to the farm, "i am not spending my money on a whole ass piano") but he still remembers how to play, even if hes a bit rusty. he doesnt see any use for the hobby at the moment, which is another reason he hasn't kept up, but who knows. i cannot for the life of me remember if daniel owns and/or plays piano(wouldnt surprise me) but if he does then theyd totally play a duet together.
Cynthia- she was very fond of photography back in the day, but she's had to drop it for safety reasons. while she didnt like photos of herself, she did own a camera and used it liberally for candid shots for most of the rangers. ortega had the most pictures taken of her ofc, she had girlfriend privileges. she also had a good few for the general scenery of los diablos, to remind her of her home. some of the photos that she treasured most were kept on her person, but it got taken away and used as ammunition by the farm when she was discovered. she would pick it up again given the chance, but thats only guaranteeing the photos cant be traced back to her, which isnt happening atm rip.
12. What's something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!
Caine- hes my most stoic character, so its actually pretty difficult to make him laugh, but! spoon. definitely spoon. chen has seen caine laugh more in like, 5 months than he has in the several years hes known them. its a combination of whats essentially intoxication from spoons mind, a feeling of understanding they dont usually get with people, and the fact that walks with spoon is one of the very few times he feels safe enough to let his guard down. it helps that chen has pretty quiet thoughts, so theyre not punished for lowering their shields.
Cecilia- oh man, ceci loves to laugh, shes very giggly. if i had to choose though, you can always get her with a dad joke. it doesnt matter how bad it is(and honestly the worse it is the funnier it gets). this is at least 70% of the reason she hangs out with ortega btw. that man is so corny with his jokes and cecilia is shamelessly enabling him. theyre insufferable when theyre together.
28. What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?
Caine- ok, well. caine avoids talking about themeselves like the plague so good luck getting an answer out of them in the first place. if he really couldnt avoid it, hed just say one of his goals(getting out of hark, for instance). its not wrong, per se, but it doesnt encompass what they actually want because they dont know what they want. in honesty hes a justice step, but hes stuck as a fate step until he has a suitable moment of "oh shit thats why im doing this". they want the heroes to function as actual heroes, instead of glorified lapdogs for the state. as for when everything is finally over, they want a massive fucking nap.
Cyrus- he tells others he wants people to leave him alone, and is Very Annoyed that nobodys listening to him. the reality is, ofc, the opposite lmfao. he cant stand to be alone, hed spiral worse than he already has without people to hold him steady. he wasnt like this before, he was a lot more open with his like for people, but the farm made him paranoid of connection and he just couldnt risk it. unfortunately for him, repression just caused it to turn around and bit him in the ass. gl cyrus, have fun with your new friends <3
Cecilia- cecis extremely open, bombastic, and utterly unashamed to say that shes doing everything for the hell of it. thats still true, she really is just doing things for kicks, but the biggest thing she wants is friends. shes not shy about saying it, but she doesnt get what having a friend entails. so instead, she ends up chasing an mirage of what friends look like, without realizing it needs connection to work. the first time she found an actual friend in daniel since heartbreak, it threw her for a loop.
Cynthia- she thinks she needs to be sidestep again. its not something shell admit for various reasons– the complete impossibility of it being one of them– so instead she settles for telling ortega that she needs to stay a civilian for her sanity. to be fair, thats not a total lie, if she went back to being a hero she would crack. i know its not part of the question but as an extra little nugget, what she needs is for somebody to look at her now and still care for her even compared to sidestep. she is my only step that needs to be told "sidestep is dead" and i swear im trying to beat it into her with a stick.
questions are from here!
#ortega should go on a walk with caine and chen actually#theyd get so jealous i just know it#“chen you get to see him like this all the time??? and you never told me???”#the temptation to make ceci friendless scar is strong but my enjoyment of hunger as a metaphor for loneliness is stronger#caine lynzal#cyrus becker#cecilia rider#cynthia garcia#thank you again for the ask!#even though its noon now lmfao#pulp answers#ask game
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OC talk~
Another female OC! I guess she technically qualifies as a whumpee because she does get beat up on occassion, she's besties with and partner in fighting crime with Mirage. She's a woman of few words and a strong sense of justice.
More about she under the cut
Black Cat decided on her alias very fittingly after her reflexes were often referred to as those of a cat. She grew up mostly homeless along with her twin brother and survived off of theft, the kindness of strangers, homeless shelters, and finally in the basement of a neighbourhood boxing gym, where the owner took a liking to her and taught her how to kickbox before leaving the gym in her care after he retired.
Since Cat is often seen doing janitorial work in the gym, not many people know or even believe that she's actually the owner, but it doesn't bother her much. She doesn't care much for status, she just cares about making enough money to keep the gym open so teenagers have a place to hang out and stay healthy, and for her to pay rent and her brother's medication.
After meeting Mirage, Cat learns that she literally has some cat-like qualities, such as an extra flexible spine and impressively sensitive vestibular bones in her ears for balance. Her status as a super is later officially confirmed when blood tests show that she carries a specific set of genes.
Together with Mirage's help, she mostly looks after her own neighbourhood, but sometimes finds herself teleported to the other side of the city in case of emergency. On days like these, she can often be found taking the subway back home, which nowadays mostly only stands out to tourists. Locals adore seeing her on the subway, as she makes supers seem less out of touch with the regular folk, and frequent commuters even know when to wake her up from her naps so she doesn't miss her stop!
Read all about her heroics in her story~
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Tell me more about Angel?
Did he keep or break his last promise?
If he could call one person for help, who would it be (and would the answer be different before and after his Autobots arc)?
How does he see himself?
How does he react to praise and criticism?
What's his ideal friend like, and ideal or not, does he currently consider anyone a friend?
When was the last time he was disappointed?
What past act is he most proud of?
What's his strongest childhood memory?
Where does he go when he's angry?
Does he have nicknames for others? His own nickname?
A habit or belief that keeps getting him in trouble?
Me irl being asked about my oc
These answers might evolve as i figure out his story more, and as I learn more about the canon lore.
Did he keep or break his last promise? He broke it. He promised he would stay safe, stay in the base, leave his past behind him, and he didn't. He snuck out and hunted down the Decepticon that raised him, who made him in the first place. His attempt to get some kind of closure or revenge (he wasn't entirely sure himself what his goal was) goes about as poorly as possible.
If he could call one person for help, who would it be (and would the answer be different before and after his Autobots arc)? With the Decepticons, he would go to his "parent" (the bot that made him, who i will figure out the specifics on that as i go). Angel was often scolded when he was unable to do things alone, so it was rare for him to ask for help, but he trusted that one Decepticon enough to risk it. After switching sides, he still found his knee jerk reaction to be wanting to ask the same bot, however it wasn't an option for several reasons. So now he doesn't ask for help until he's already neck deep in shit and someone comes to bail him out.
How does he see himself? He has a bit of a dichotomous self view. He knows he's a scary good fighter, he knows he can pull his own weight and then some, he's very confident in himself. But at the same time he considers himself weak, he thinks he's flawed because his body is small and vulnerable. And he tries (pretty successfully) to hide that.
How does he react to praise and criticism? He is deeply starved for praise, so when he gets it he leans into it and tries to do anything he can to not fail the person who offered it. His reaction is pretty similar to criticism, but he gets quiet and while desperately trying to make up for whatever mistake was pointed out to him. Basically he's a people pleaser starved of positive reinforcement and scared of punishment.
What's his ideal friend like, and ideal or not, does he currently consider anyone a friend? He had a secret imaginary friend when he was super young that was actually just an old abandoned bike. He loved having something private that was just for him and his 'friend'. He wants a friendship that is free and open and close, someone he can share everything with. He wants a friend who can sneak him away to do secret adventures. But he doesn't actually have that. On the surface level, he seems to be good friends with Bee and Mirage, but he doesn't actually open up to them. As much fun as he has hanging out with them and raising hell and giving Optimus gray hairs (metaphorical), he keeps that at an arm's distance.
When was the last time he was disappointed? It's really hard to disappoint him since his expectations are,,,, really low. He pretty much goes into every situation braced for the worst so he's either right and he doesn't feel the sting of being disappointed, or he's pleasantly surprised.
What past act is he most proud of? Gonna be honest, this one has me super stumped. He isn't proud of his time with the Decepticons, he hurt a lot of people and he still has the constitution to kill. Of course the moment he made the choice to stay with the Autobots could counts as his proudest moment, at least in the eyes of his new team, he also looks back on that choice with a pang of grief because he lost his family to that choice. It's a bittersweet proud moment at best.
What's his strongest childhood memory? The day he learned what he role with the Decepticons was. Remember that sorta-imaginary bike friend? Yeah the Decepticon leaders found out about that and destroyed it. That was the day when they shortened his leash and explained what he was training for, how he was made to be the perfect assassin, and how he would one day finally destroy the enemy bot Optimus Prime.
Where does he go when he's angry? Just out. He blindly races off, just following whatever path his tires or feet take him. A lot of the time he will end up in tight spots that bigger Cybertronians can't follow him into.
Does he have nicknames for others? His own nickname? Almost none of the Decepticons called him by his own name, instead opting for the operative name White Shadow. And that's what he had the Autobots call him for a long time as well. But ultimately he prefers the name Angel. Which is funny, because he seldom calls literally anyone else by name. He calls Bee stuff like Chatterbox (although Bee is most likely to be called by name), Mirage usually gets called Numbnuts/Dumbass/etc, and a lot of the times he'll come up with new nicknames on the spot for different situations.
A habit or belief that keeps getting him in trouble? His incessant tendency to go it alone and treat every situation like a life or death solo mission. Paired with his lack self preservation skills, he gets himself into a lot of situations that he can't get back out of.
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I'm honestly speechless. Your reply makes me wanna tear up BHJ.😭❤️ And... I will make sure to keep that in mind to ask you about things. Will I seem strange to say that I always pause and gather myself for a moment before I could read flowers of every colour? Yeah, I have to read the 5th part. I read till Oc and Jun have had danced together. I really like the way you described the dance though. I highkey had the butterflies I never expected myself too. 🤭
I felt even more exhilarated when Jun pulled oc into a hug when all Choi siblings had met. The letters piling up could be the best thing! The banter? I live for it!
How do we write some good description about outfits? I love the way you decsribed Yeonjun's outfit. Also, I wanna know how you describe the ancient settings and the dance as well. Of course, any way we can just pour life into writing small gestures and actions?
🦋!
hi butterfly anon! no, it's not strange at all <3 i'm always flattered when people tell me how they react reading to foec, especially when they get emotional or feel butterflies in their stomach like yes! that's what it's supposed to make the reader feel so my writing is working 🤭 i'm so so happy that you love the scenes i wrote! chapter 4 was one of my favorites to write, and for the soogyu banter in chapter 3 i drew a lot of inspiration from watching them in to do hehe.
i'll put my writing thoughts under a read-more since they're long:
part 1: writing descriptions!
for outfit descriptions i assume you mean this part right?
you turn in the direction of his voice, but any reply you had in mind evaporates at the sight of him. yeonjun is standing at the gazebo entrance and your jaw goes slack from just how beautiful he looks. the dark emerald green jacket he wears hangs well on his shoulders, and the gold embroidered details on the front shine in the moonlight. his hair has been slicked back, with a few strands left in front of his forehead, framing his face. even in the evening dimness you can make out his features: his shining eyes, his plush lips.
his outfit here is actually based on his first costume in the act sweet mirage tour:
i don't always have a reference when i describe things in my fic, but it can be very helpful! so at least i have an idea in my head of what exactly i'm describing. searching for references on pinterest helps a lot!
so i know what yeonjun's outfit looks like, now i want to describe it from the point of view of the reader character (y/n). i'm writing in second person POV so i want readers to see what y/n sees! since yeonjun is y/n's love interest and close friend, they would see him and his outfit in a way that enhances how attractive he is, while also showing that y/n is starting to develop feelings for him. so i describe how his outfit complements his natural features ("the dark emerald green jacket he wears hangs well on his shoulders"; "his hair has been slicked back, with a few strands left in front of his forehead, framing his face"), and i also add in elements of the setting to set a romantic mood and make the overall atmosphere more vivid (" the gold embroidered details on the front shine in the moonlight", "even in the evening dimness you can make out his features: his shining eyes, his plush lips").
a few chapters later i introduce another character and also describe what she is wearing, but this time i want this character and her outfit to intimidate y/n rather than feel attraction. i won't spoil it but let me know when you find where that part is and how i wrote it!
generally when it comes to descriptive writing - things like what a character is wearing, the room they are in, even things like dancing, etc. - i find it more important to tie my descriptions to the story and the characters than to make it super precise and detailed. my readers don't need to know every detail of a room or of a piece of clothing or a dance, they need just enough to clearly follow what's going on. once i have that level of enough, i focus on answering these questions: how does the thing i'm describing make my characters feel? how can my description show that feeling?
part 2: pouring life into small gestures and actions!
personally, i like putting a LOT of little gestures and facial expressions and body language in my writing! which won't be everyone's cup of tea but that's my own writing style. honestly i'm not entirely sure how to teach this bc this is something i do naturally when i write...
first step would probably to just be very observant and notice people's body language! even noticing your own helps :) for txt specifically, it helps that i follow their content a lot (variety shows, interviews, lives, etc) because i start to notice the little reactions that each member has, especially when they react differently to the same thing!
i'll use this bit from foec chapter 4 as an example:
“you look…” stunning. wonderful. beautiful. “…good.”
it’s not the compliment you wanted to give, but yeonjun gets the message anyway. he lets out an awkward laugh and he turns his head away, covering his mouth with one hand. "when he recovers, he turns to you with a small smirk. “and you look amazing too.”"
so i know that yeonjun is the type who gets flustered easily, but also the type who flirts and wears his heart on his sleeve around people he likes. as a writer, i also know that he has a little crush on y/n at this point and those feelings are about to become deeper, even if yeonjun himself hasn't realized it yet.
my goal here is to translate his thoughts and emotions into visible actions, using his character quirks as a guide. he likes y/n a lot and getting complimented by them made him feel all giddy, but he also genuinely enjoys their company and is really happy to see them outside the ball. so i convey his giddiness and his little crush through actions that show how easily flustered he can get ("he lets out an awkward laugh and he turns his head away, covering his mouth with one hand") but i also show his genuine care for y/n + him testing his feelings through his flirtiness ("when he recovers, he turns to you with a small smirk. 'and you look amazing too.'")
when i write little actions i'm always thinking of 1) the character's overall personality and how they normally behave, and 2) what they're thinking or feeling in that particular moment. their actions should show how they're thinking or feeling, but do so in a way that also reveals who they are as a person! i hope this makes sense slkdfjksdlfj i'm not really sure how to explain what i do here
i hope this helps, butterfly anon! if you're unsure of anything i said, please let me know and i can try to explain <3 happy writing!
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we don't talk together | myg
pairing: min yoongi x oc
genre: angst, hurt/comfort, growth! exes that remain exes
words: 2, 842
summary: it's hard to say it's over
What they don't tell you about goodbyes is that it isn't the end.
It's far from the closing of a book. Goodbyes are the itch that urges you to pick up an old book from the shelf just to feel what you first felt when you re-read certain parts of a book; the same remorse you felt when a character you grew attached to didn't get the ending they deserved. Or, maybe it was the villain that was misunderstood—your own heart wishing to reach out to the sad soul that couldn't even be recognised when all they do is speak.
But some books will end up dusty, forgotten, tucked away in the corner of your shelf; or in the most drastic of cases: lost.
"The park looks ... different," Yoongi speaks up for a lack of a better conversation starter.
You hum. What would you say? That it wasn't the same from when we used to spend our Spring's blended into Summer's until it got too hot for us to lay in each other's embrace?
It was still too fresh even though it's been nearly a year.
"There are more dogs," You point out the moment a tan pomeranian runs past the two of you, the owner an old couple laughing away under the cherry blossoms.
He nods, fingers stuffed in his trench coat. You note that it's the same one he wore on your anniversary, plans abandoned when there was a mix-up with the reservations until the two of you stumbled across a hidden gem that soon became your go-to date place.
You will yourself to look away so no more memories can resurface. It seems like every part of your life has somehow seamlessly intertwined itself with traces of Yoongi that it was impossible for you to exist as just yourself.
"How are things at the firm?" He asks after the two of you walked side-by-side in complete silence as more and more chatter fill your ears.
"It's ... going," You chuckle dryly.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you, shooting you a brief glance over until the two of you reach a bench. You dare say it's muscle memory that dragged your heavy feet into the direction of the only bench that you've known in the park. The compressed reminder of the initials of your names that you carved as teenagers likely still staining the years old wood. It was meant to be an emblem for wisdom, the ring of growth that meant to be the endgame for the two of you.
You almost laugh in bitterness and how literal the metaphor was.
"Everything okay?"
Yoongi takes the first step to sit on the bench because he always did. Ever the gentlemen when he opened doors for you, let you into the car first, waited until you stepped ahead of him to trail behind like a shield.
The first date, first kiss, first confession.
The first one to decide that it was over.
"My boss is just being sexist, as usual. I thought I'd get used to it after spending two years there but ... there are some things that you just stay unfamiliar, you know?"
It was very like you to speak in double-entendres without intending to. But it was also like Yoongi to pick up on it, especially after years of learning all the best and worst parts of you; he was and probably will be one of the few people in your lives that will always foresee your next move.
The two of you sit a fair distance apart on the bench even if it was a battle for space anyway. You didn't have the liberty to lean into his embrace anymore and he wasn't in the position to say that it was okay for you to breathe, to relax.
"You shouldn't get used to those remarks. There are times where you learn to grow used to constructive criticism but if what he's saying makes you question your worth because of very arbitrary reasons like your gender then that isn't criticism, nor is it constructive. It's bigoted and chauvinistic."
You look down to your thumbs as you fiddle with it, his words comforting you. It was woeful that you still chased validation from him even after learning to be that person to yourself.
"Yeah, I guess."
Then how did you get used to things?
If time didn't make things familiar then what did? Was it not the five years with Yoongi that led you to see him build an empire for himself all the while destroying the relationship that you had? Or was it because he was the person that you thought of doing the most minuscule things?
"By the way," He clears his throat, eyes still set forward, "Namjoon says hi."
You raise an eyebrow, surprised to hear the name of a mutual friend—or more appropriately, friend by association and acquaintance when that link was broken.
"He knows that you're with me?"
Yoongi nods his head.
"I needed to let someone at the studio know and ... well, he's the only one that knew of our situation."
You chuckle bitterly.
Of course. The suggestion of his work only made your heart drop because as much as you wanted to be supportive of him, even after the break-up, the name of his studio or songs only reminded you of the battle that you helplessly lost.
"You can tell him that I'm still a text or phone call away. No need to play messenger," You return.
The atmosphere is more reflective than awkward. You know that the two of you had your pieces to say, your own narrative to tell but neither brave enough to break the calm that you were settled in. It was a nice difference from the way that things ended, and you supposed that you were similar enough to believe in a mirage than the inevitable truth.
But you didn't call him out after six months to sit in silence to walk away with your heart feeling heavier, nor did you invite him out just to remember what it feels like to have him next to you—even in complete silence.
"Would you have really quit?"
This time, you gather all the bravery that you've built over the past few months to ask the question that has been mulling in your mind since the night you decided that it was officially over.
It was a painful break-up. Even if you expected it when Yoongi came home earlier one night with bags under his eyes and his keys that he usually left at the studio because he knew you'd always be home to open the door for him.
"I'm sorry?" He seems taken aback.
You don't blame him. You've always been more passive in dealing with confrontation due to your conflict-averse nature—but that didn't mean you didn't get angry or annoyed—or hurt. But if you learned anything, it was to stop asking yourself questions that you'll never have the answer to.
"Would you really have left the company to save our relationship?"
You chose your words carefully. Instead of saying to be with you, knowing that he lost the love, he had for you somewhere along the way—you point out the one hole that he held on to for the sake of stability. The one thing that was constant in his life with how unpredictable the music industry was.
"Yes."
Somehow, the answer doesn't make you feel better because even with time apart you knew he was lying to save your face.
"You don't owe me anything to lie to my face, Yoongi." You frown.
Yoongi sighs, rubbing his hands across his face as he leaves your statement hanging in the air to mull over his answer.
You prefer the silence that way. It showed that he was at least listening, or cared enough to decide his next set of words. Nothing like how much it pained you to acknowledge the responses you got from him when you were crying were just out of obligation than sincerity.
"No, I wouldn't have."
You nod your head, expectant of the answer but you needed to hear him say it himself rather than drowning yourself in ruminating thoughts of how there was still a semblance of hope that he would've given it up for you, for your relationship—or the life that you were meant to build.
"I wouldn't have asked you to, anyway." You confess.
Yoongi turns his head to look at you and for the first time since you've met at the park, he notices the absence of a necklace around your neck. The necklace that you never took off. He wants to comment on it, ask where it went or if you've pawned it off out of pettiness but he held no remorse towards you. You were tolerant with the break-up even as you sucked in your tears when he knew that it killed you on the inside. Yoongi didn't have the heart in him to ask you.
"Oh."
"You were the one that said you'd quit so we could stay together," You say softly.
Yoongi doesn't respond as he looks back to the night where the two of you sat down to talk about the standing of your relationship. It was a rollercoaster of emotions that started off with an amicable discussion that eventually led to the two of you yelling until you surrendered to your tears and just left the battle completely.
He said a lot of things that night. From things that he's been bottling up for months, to things that he's always wanted to tell you and things that he didn't remotely mean, and things that he's regretted the moment it left his lips.
"I guess I did."
You sigh, leaning back into the bench as you observe a couple walking in front of you, passing your bench as they share an ice cream on a cone; bickering on who'd get the first lick. To anyone, you and Yoongi would've looked just like a couple that has reached a comfortable point in your relationship where intimacy was just sitting next to one another.
But you admit, there was something oddly intimate and heart-breaking about sitting next to someone you've loved with your whole heart and feel nothing but ... weightlessness. Like the burden of your concerns was lifted ever so slightly just being here.
"I wouldn't have made you choose between your relationship or your dream, Yoongi. I would never have done that to you."
Yoongi knew you would never have made him do something as abhorrent as that. You were far too understanding. But you had wanted from him too, that he wasn't willing to provide just yet. He didn't know if it was because of the expiration date to your relationship or because of the stress he was under at work—but he convinced himself that it was you that was asking for too much instead of him compromising too little.
"I ... I know," He whispers, "I'm sorry."
You purse your lips. You try not to let your emotions appear on your sleeve. You were tired of allowing your face to speak before you did. You needed to use the voice you had.
"I loved you so much, Yoongi," You murmur, "I loved you so much that I would have taken anything I could've gotten with you just so I could be with you."
Yoongi stays silent at this.
"I didn't mind if you spent more time at work than at our home. I just wanted to know if I was ever in the picture when you were talking about the future. I know how much you love music and I supported you through every audition and failure ... and to know that I was just—" You swallow, the words still painful to say. But you needed to make your peace with it, "—that I was just someone that would wait for you instead of your partner. That's when I knew that you didn't love me the way I loved you."
Yoongi chokes to speak up but you shake your head.
"No, Yoongi. You loved me, you did. But somewhere along the way you stopped and you just pretended that we were okay even when I was trying my best to fix the seams. I wasn't your girlfriend anymore, I was just someone familiar to you and I didn't deserve to feel that way." You tell him sternly.
Yoongi surrenders to his silence as you take a deep breath to continue.
"Maybe I loved you too much in a way that you couldn't understand."
"_______, don't say that—" His eyes widen when he tries to reach a hand to yours to comfort you, but your body language remains stoic as you keep your hands in your lap.
"—and that's okay Yoongi. I loved you but not in the way you needed. I'm not here to make you feel bad about what I chose to do on my own because it wasn't my fault that I couldn't be what you need." You say sadly, but a small smile on your face as you finally say the words that have been eating at you for months.
"... okay," Yoongi accepts.
"We all have different ways to love and be loved. I loved you and that was enough for you at one point but love isn't all a relationship needs. You loved me too, in your own way and I accepted that but just because it was enough for me doesn't mean it was enough for us." You glance over at him to see him staring at you intently.
"I'm sorry that things turned out this way," Yoongi says softly, eyes gentle.
You wave him off.
"I don't think I'll ever love someone as much as I loved you, though," He confesses, eyes returning to the scene in front of him filled with different colours of life that seemed to look vibrant under the Spring sunset.
You shake your head and chuckle softly.
"You say that now but you'll meet someone one day and you'll remember all the reasons why you love in the first place. And it'll be enough for you, and them."
He shrugs, a small smile itching on his face.
"I really did love you," He says, "But I'm sorry for not being honest with you. I owe you that much of an apology."
"We're not here to forgive or forget, Yoongi," You look at him kindly, "We're here to move on."
He purses his lips and hums, nodding his head.
"I hope you get that promotion at work you were talking about months ago, ______." Yoongi offers, a gentle grin marring his face.
"I did," You shrug.
It feels liberating to have achieved something and only feeling content by acknowledging it yourself. Months ago, you would've hurt at the fact that Yoongi didn't know. But the change you welcomed after the end only showed you that there was a new path for you to walk on.
His eyes widen, but eventually, he chuckles and shakes his head, muttering something under his breath that sounded a lot like knew it.
You push yourself off the bench, dusting your hands on your pants as you offer him one last smile before you say goodbye for the second time.
"I hope you find someone who you'll love more than you ever did with me." You tease.
He rolls his eyes.
"Impossible," The grin on his face is easy, and your heart still clenches at the nonchalance, but you don't expect the feeling to go away so easily—nor do you mind. It just shows that you needed to wait and that you were willing to do it.
"Of course you will. You're a musician, Yoongi. You need a muse," You smirk at him as you turn around, a small wave on your hand to say goodbye.
As you walk away and his body gets smaller and smaller from your vision, you turn around to say:
"We don't talk together is a beautiful song."
Yoongi's smile is genuine, and so is his goodbye. A gentle acknowledgment of his hand as he stands up himself, walking to the other direction of where you were headed.
You still had a love for Yoongi, and you suppose you always will. Just like how you would feel pleasant when rediscovering a childhood hobby that triggers a fond memory, or how you love different things in your life in different ways. Whether or not you love someone more than you've ever loved Yoongi isn't your concern, because when love comes in one form, it goes in another.
When you still take the same route you'd usually take with Yoongi after your walks back home, you pass the cafe you used to frequent to see that it's replaced with a new bar. You smile fondly to yourself, shaking your head.
You loved that place.
But eventually, you'll find another cafe with a beautiful interior and a latte to match, and you'll love it too.
#bts fic#bts imagine#bts fics#bts imagines#bts yoongi#bts fluff#bts angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi exes#yoongi imagine#yoongi fic#yoongi breakup#angst#fluff#yoongi#min yoongi x reader
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—lost stars, part 2 (m.)
⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader
⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers
⟶ word count: 20k
⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.
⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.
✔ read part one here!
a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!
Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.
Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.
He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.
“What do you suggest we should do then?”
The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.
He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.
Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass.
“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”
“What do you think, Jungkook?”
It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.
It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.
Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck.
He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”
Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.
Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.
“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.
Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.
Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.
“Does it really matter?”
Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.
“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”
He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”
“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.
“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”
Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.
“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.
Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.
“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.
“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.
Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”
“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”
“Deal.”
Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.
You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.
In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.
He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.
“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.
Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.
He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.
Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.
He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.
“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.
Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”
If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.
Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.
You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.
He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.
You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.
It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.
From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.
Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.
It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.
And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.
Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.
Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.
You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).
Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.
Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.
“Need some help?”
Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”
You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.
“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.
“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”
“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”
“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.
To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”
Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”
Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”
His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.
“Are you okay?”
For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.
You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.
They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.
It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.
Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.
A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up.
[1:23pm] jungkook:
i need you
It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.
[1:24pm] jungkook:
please
He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.
He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.
He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.
“Hello, doll.”
It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.
It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.
It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.
But you accept your fate the way it is.
“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.
Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.
You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.
You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.
“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.
“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”
Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”
There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.
“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.
Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”
‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”
“I know. He told me about you.”
Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.
“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”
You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”
It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.
It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.
The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.
Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.
Jungkook.
Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.
Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.
You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?
Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.
“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”
At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.
The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.
Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,” You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”
“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.
“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”
You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.
“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.
“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.
You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”
“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”
Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.
“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”
You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.
The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”
You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”
Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”
He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.
“You can get a driving license then finally.”
You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”
Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.
“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”
Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.
“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.
“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.
You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.
“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”
Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”
It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back. “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.
“And what is that?”
“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”
Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.
The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”
“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”
“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.
Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.
“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.
“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.
He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.
A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”
“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”
You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.
Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.
Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.
You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.
You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.
Three missed calls from: Jungkook
[11:11pm] jungkook:
I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice
Please call me back. I’m worried
Two missed calls from: Jungkook
[11:36pm] jungkook:
At least text me if you’re okay
Please
[11:39pm] me:
I’m fine
[11:39pm] jungkook:
Thank God
You sure you don’t wanna talk?
[11:41pm] me:
Maybe next time
[11:41pm] jungkook:
Okay
Night, miss grumpy
You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.
Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.
[10:45am] jungkook:
Do you have time now?
I need to tell you sth
It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was.
With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response.
[10:46am] me:
I guess
[10:46am] jungkook:
Great. I’m gonna call you now
Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.
“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”
“You called me to ask how am I doing?”
Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”
Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.
“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”
“Should I be scared?”
”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”
You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”
“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”
You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.
It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.
Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”
Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.
“Okay. I agree.”
Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”
“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”
You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.
Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.
“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”
That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.
When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.
Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.
“What’s that for?” you mumble.
“Just missed you.”
He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.
It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.
You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.
He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”
You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.
He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”
Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”
“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.
He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”
“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”
You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.
Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers.
The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.
“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.
“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.
“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”
You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”
That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.
You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.
You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”
“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.
You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”
“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”
“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.
Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”
“Taehyung.”
Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”
“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.
“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.
“Is somebody jealous?”
Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”
Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.
No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.
Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.
Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.
“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”
Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.
He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”
You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.
Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides behind the horizon.
“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.
“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”
“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”
You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”
Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.
Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”
Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.
“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.
“What is it?”
“You’re invited to a party.”
“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.
‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.
Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?”
Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”
You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.
The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.
(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)
But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.
“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.
“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.
“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.
He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”
The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.
You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.
But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.
You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.
Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)
After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.
You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.
Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.
(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)
“What are you thinking about?”
You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.
“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”
Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”
“Oppa?”
You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.
Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”
Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.
“Oh, I will be over the moon.”
“Good.”
“Amazing, even.”
You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.
You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features.
It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.
You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.
There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.
It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.
You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.
It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.
And then, you looked up and saw him.
A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.
You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.
“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.
Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.
When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.
You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.
“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”
“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.
“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.
Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.
And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.
You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.
Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.
You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.
The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.
And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.
“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.
Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”
You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”
He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.
She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”
She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.
“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”
At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.
Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.
“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.
Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.
The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.
‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.
From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.
(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)
“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.
Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.
It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.
When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.
It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.
It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.
Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.
It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life.
When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.
Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.
He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.
This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.
“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.
It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.
“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”
You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”
Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.
“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.
You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”
Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.
From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”
Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”
Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.
Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.
You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.
It’s Jungkook who speaks first.
“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”
“I do.” you whisper truthfully.
He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”
You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.
There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.
But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.
The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.
He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.
The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.
“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.
“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.
Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.
Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.
“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”
Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.
“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.
“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.
“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.
Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.
“Tell me about it.”
She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”
Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.
Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.
Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.
“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.
“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”
Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.
As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.
And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.
You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.
“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.
For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.
“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.
“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.
Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.
“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.
You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.
“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.
Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”
“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.
Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.
“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.
Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”
“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.
Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”
You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.
“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”
Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.
That your little infatuation had a sequel.
Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”
Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”
You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.
“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”
“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”
Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”
The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.
Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.
What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls. You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.
“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”
To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.
Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”
Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.
But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?
The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away.
Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.
By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.
Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.
Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.
“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”
Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.
Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.
And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.
“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.
“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”
From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.
“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.
Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.
“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”
“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”
You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”
Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”
You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”
“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”
Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.
(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)
You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.
“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.
Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”
Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.
“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”
Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.
“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.
Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.
Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.
“Want to get out of here for a while?”
Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.
“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”
“But–”
He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.
Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”
“Ladies first.”
“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”
You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.
“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.
You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”
He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”
“Exactly!”
You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.
“So you did get rid of him after all.”
Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.
Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”
“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”
Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.
Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.
“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.
“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”
It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.
Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.
It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”
You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.
“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”
You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”
It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.
“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.
It’s longing.
“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”
You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.
“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”
He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”
He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.
“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”
And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.
And you need to hear him say it.
“Promise?”
Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.
For now, it has to be enough.
Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you��re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.
But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.
“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”
“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”
He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”
Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”
Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”
You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”
He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.
As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.
You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.
“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.
He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.
There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes.
Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.
You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.
“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.
Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”
“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.
Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.
“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.
He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”
It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing. You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”
‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.
He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening.
“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.
“So good,” you mewl.
“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.
“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”
“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.
His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.
“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”
He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”
Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.
Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.
He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.
You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.
“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.
Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.
You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”
He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh.
‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.
“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.
“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”
“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”
He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.
It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).
He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,” You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”
Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”
“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”
You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.
You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.
He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.
“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.
Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss.
He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”
Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”
By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.
When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”
Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.
Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.
“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.
You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.
“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.
“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”
“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.
You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”
He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.
“Always.”
You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.
[4 months later]
“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”
You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.
The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.
Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.
The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.
He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.
You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.
[5:55pm] jungkook:
We’re departing in 20 minutes
I’m missing you already so much:(
You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.
[6:01pm] me:
Miss u too!!
And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.
The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.
You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.
However long it takes.
#jungkook smut#btswritingcafe#ksmutclub#bangtanarmynet#smutcentralnet#maknaesmutsociety#bangtanhq#btsbookclub#btswriterscollective#jungkook angst#bts smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#my writing#lost stars
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ok I'm obsessed with ur au drop the word doc and I WILL cry about link and the fact that hes scared to reclaim the master sword 🥺🥺 also curious about the inktober thing u just posted with link in chains?? I think it was 10? what did the poor man do....
💕 I’m so humbled by your interest like seriously, blown away!💕
I have some things in my Master Doc that i should update but ill see what i can do over the next few days between inktober work.
In regards to Picture 10 - Wrong Side in A Strangers War - i was just going to post the 6 dot points from the Master Doc but naturally i went off on a tangent so i’m sorry for the 1.2k and if this makes no sense. Also there is a hint of this plot line in Inktober 08 - Rauru's viewing glass, Since the Temple of Light exists in the Magical plane and is therefore not subject to the laws of time.
I will also say it’s the darkest part of this AU and is more background history and happens before the start of the story proper. I’m not really knowledgeable on tag etiquette in 2021 so I’ll just say mentions of violence, war, bloodshed, character death.
It's dark but i swear this AU has a happy ending!
First thing to understand about this is that it’s got no roots in canon and i have been avoiding naming the billion OCs and Kingdom creation it required so bare with me as I use default descriptions. (I hate naming things)
Between Majora’s Mask and The start of The AU when Link returns to Hyrule (10 year span approx) he has been wandering throughout other Kingdoms, getting pulled into things because he is a good bean who can’t ignore people in need.
for 2 years he is caught up in a foreign Civil War (when he is about 19/20). The Kingdom is ruled by a Tyrant King who treats his people like absolute shit. A Resistance forms amongst the common people and Link joins it. Their goal is to depose the King and put someone else on the Throne. The King of course tries to wipe out the Resistance and crack down on any civilians that support it. He destroys entire villages, hangs people for treason and levies increased taxes to bully everyone into submission.
Link plays a mainly defensive role because a lot of the people of course have no idea who he is and still see him as very young. However he does prove himself and becomes a high ranked member of the resistance. He leads raids on supply caravans and rescue missions, proving himself a master strategist. Also while he tries to downplay his magic and the Ocarina, he over time reveals his overture of musical magic.
The Songs don’t function as teleportation anymore:
Minuet of the Forest = plant growth (Link used razor leaf its super effective)
Bolero of Fire = Fire creation and manipulation
Serenade of Water = Water manip
Nocturne of Shadow = Darkness and mirage
Requiem of Spirit = Aura cleanse
Prelude of Light = Glowing/ blinding light
Song of Storms = Storm creation, a bit OP but unpredictable
Suns Song = Breaks storm
Song of Soaring = Wings spring from back and can fly for awhile
Song of Healing = Sends souls to peaceful rest as per MM
His Brothers and Sisters in arms stop perceiving him by his age and see him as a powerful warrior for Justice. This of course makes him a target as a key member of the Resistance. He’s also the only Hylian so he’s recognisable (i want to portray this as Hylians ears are longer or something to make them seperate people. Like half-elves vs full elves ect)
One of his close friend turns out to be a double-agent working for the King who naturally betrays them all at a key moment. A lot of the Resistance are imprisoned or executed. Their supporters punished. Link is imprisoned and beaten/tortured for information because the Betrayer knows he has information also maybe he can claim this kid's power somehow..
This is basically what the drawing is about, the title of ‘The Wrong Side in a Stranger’s war, is in reference to dialogue the Betrayer says to Link in Prison. When he is reiterating, you had no part in this land and no reason to get involved but you are a foolish boy who got involved and you picked the losing side.
inevitably, having watched a lot of his friends suffer or killed and blaming himself for not stopping it he snaps. (hero label is a curse, he is expected to save people but he only seems to fail these days). The Trifroce of Courage activates and since he is beyond caring if he survives and is just 100% righteous fury at this point he destroys the dungeon and palace single handedly, freeing his comrades who are unable to process the god-like power their friend is wielding. He looks terrifying, He slays the King and the Betrayer.
In the end he stands in a shattered kingdom leaving the remains to the last surviving members of the resistance to try and put it back together and disappears in the night. They don’t know how to treat him after this incredible show of power. Spirit broken from failing the people and losing the war, he wanders down a road without direction and finds the road has led him back into Hyrule.
**
The main sort of idea I wanted with this plot history is that you don’t win in war. And in stories you obvious have heroes who fix everything or save the day but it’s doesn’t really fall in with reality. In OoT, it is implied that a lot of people were killed but with the reset of the timeline they are all alive again. Sure he experienced destruction while a child but in the end everyone survives and the day is saved as you would expect in the tales (Zelda’s perspective is obviously different).
With his experiences in MM and Termina he learnt that he can’t save everyone, if you decide to help one person, someone else will suffer from that decision. There must be balance. This of course is upsetting for him as a child whose idea of what it means to be a hero, his fairytale perception of it is being shattered with ever time reset. He only makes it out of the Termina when he accepts the truth that he can never save everyone. a choice must be made. Then you have the Rebellion and he witnesses the loss of a lot of dear friends and innocents. He views this as a total failure, that he has no grounds upon which to wield the mantle of a hero. Technically the Rebellion wins the war but it depends on whether you view victory in regard to power won or lives saved. Link’s beliefs all circle around the protection of life. He will always do what he believes his right but as time passes he is loosing confidence and begins second-guessing himself.
Of course those in Hyrule who know the legends and remember the Forgotten War (High Fae, Sages, aka those with strong connection to the magical plane) still see him as a hero. Even after hearing this story Zelda still views him as one because of course he has always fought on the side of good / light. So a big part of this whole AU in regards to Link’s arc is him coming to terms with what it actually means to be a hero of the world, and that the truth does not always match the fairytales that are told to children.
In regards to the Master Sword, after his return to Hyrule and his sort of rock bottom confidence i see him as no longer believing himself worthy of the Mantle of Hero of Time. Part of him doesn’t actually believe he could pull it from the pedestal, that the sword would probably act negatively to the darkness that’s grown in him. Zelda believes he could still draw it but she knows that this internal battle can only be fought by him, she can only support him in the healing process.
Big part of this AU is Recovery and Moving Forward despite your past so know it's angsty as hell in places but i swear it's got a happy ending!
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Dive | Part 8 | jjk
<Masterlist>
Pairings: Jungkook x y/n, Yoongi x oc
Word Count: 4k + text
Series Description: Camping with your ex, sounds horrible right? The camping trip was planned and payed for long before y/n’s shitty boyfriend broke up with her. Her best friend Abby, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are there to make sure she has an amazing time. However, sharing a tent with a smoke show like Jungkook is bound to lead to some complications.
Warnings:Language, just a lot of touching. Nothing crazy in this one except for a very needy and clingy Kook... sorry not sorry.
✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️
After his confession, the two of you spent the night talking about nonsense. The sun came up and you were still talking. It was easy with him, that was something you couldn’t deny. There was never a moment where you felt uncomfortable. It was all so new for you. As the sun started to peak through his blinds, you both looked at each other with shock. Had you really spent the whole night talking.
Getting the notification that your Uber was close, you let him know. Pushing yourself from your indent in the couch, only then realizing how stiff your body was and how exhausted you were.
“I can’t believe we stayed up all night, haven’t done that in a while.” He yawns getting up to follow you.
You giggle, agreeing with him. You slide your jacket over your arms, and you look up at him. How he looks like an Adonis after a night of no sleep is something you’ll never be able to explain. He holds his arms open wide and you mindlessly wrap yours around his waist, letting your head fall onto his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat nearly hypnotizing you, you think maybe you could stay right here forever. With your head on his chest and his arms around you tight.
“Thank you for taking care of me.” He mumbles pressing his lips to the top of your head. You inhale deeply, pulling back so you can look at him.
“Of course. Thanks for stay up until 6 am with me,” Your giggle makes him blush.
You’ve said your goodbyes and you start walking to the uber, until you hear him calling your name. You turn to see him running down his hallway to you.
He hands you his phone, “Can you put your number in here? Maybe? I’d really like to talk to you more often if you’re okay with that.” he asks pinching the back of his neck, a nervous tick that you found to be adorable. You smile, putting your name in his phone. Hugging you once more, because you both can’t seem to get enough. Within minutes you get a text from him, and you save his in your phone.
The drive home is a blissed-out blur. You know you’re supposed to be working on you, but you have, haven’t you? Now that you know why he said all of those hurtful things, it was becoming harder for you to remember why you needed space. His scent clung to you, clouding your thoughts of him and only him.
Once you’re home, you crash into your bed. Closing your eyes and remembering the way his heartbeat made a special song, just for you.
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Within a week, your feelings for Jungkook had only gotten deeper. He had proved time and time again that he was there for you. You had spent one night on Face Time for hours. Talking about everything and nothing all at once, just like when you stayed as his house. His tired eyes through the phone screen made you scream internally. How could someone be so sexy and cute at the same time? Not to mention the fact that you brought up some pretty heavy conversation. Topics that Ben was never willing to help with, as he saw them as your problems. Jungkook knew he wouldn’t be able to fix it but he lent amazing advice and a distraction that proved to be the cure all. He tried, and he was there; and for you that meant so much.
Finally, Friday was here, and all you had to do was put some mascara on and then you were ready. You decided on some comfy shorts and a fitted t-shirt since you told everyone to dress cozy. You’re distracted by the bell on your phone, it’s Jungkook saying he’s running late but will be there soon. When he finally arrives he’s carrying two huge bags of groceries.
“What the hell,” You take the bags from his hands setting them on the counter, “You didn’t have to bring anything!” You giggle peaking through the bags.
“You’ve never had a movie night with these heathens. They will wipe your fridge clean.” He chuckles and starts to take all of the snacks from the bag. You ‘ooo and ahh’ at all of the goodies he picked up, making your snacks look like a pre-school snack time. You decide to rip open the family sized bag of gummies, taking a handful and popping them into your mouth. Turning your head Jungkook’s mouth is hanging open, silently asking for you to feed him.
You chuckle while you get another handful to fill his mouth. Both of you laughing at how ridiculous you looked with your cheeks full.
“So sweet!” You groan. He instantly hugs you from behind, your giggling fit still hasn’t ceased.
“Just. Like. You.” He kisses the side of your face between each word.
“You’re so cheesy,” You turn to look at him, but when your eyes lock something feels new. You decide to turn so you can face him, as you do, he backs you up so you’re leaning against the counter.
His plump lips press against your forehead once more, and your lips are jealous this time. His fingers find the stray hairs that frame your face, delicately tucking them behind your ear so he can kiss your cheek bone. You smell his cherry flavored lip balm as his lips coast over the tip of your nose, landing on the spot to the right of where you secretly want him the most. As if his lips were putting you into a trance you thoughtlessly lift your head and let your lips meet his.
Once you do his hand travels up your arm to the back of your neck, tangling his fingers in the baby hairs. The moan that rolls off of his tongue and into your mouth has you reeling. Your hands make a path from his chest to his neck, mimicking the way his fingers are dancing through your hairs. His tongue glides along your lower lip and you immediately grant it entry.
Suddenly you’re both pulled from the mirage, by the sound of someone banging on the door. Jimin’s voice ringing loud on the other side.
Lips red and swollen you both grin like lovesick teenagers. He lets out a defeated sigh and decides he needs just one more kiss. Pressing his lips, a little harder and longer into yours this time. Almost as if he didn’t know if he would get to again.
You stay where you are as he goes to your front door to let the ‘heathens’ inside. Jimins face scrunches in confusion when Jungkook is the one opening the door. His eyes flick to yours and you scrunch your brows together throwing up your shoulders, ‘what?”, you mouth. He rolls his eyes silently chuckling. Abby responds almost identically, eyeing you as she finds a spot on the couch. Gathering all of the snacks, you bring them to the coffee table in the center of the living room.
“Oo! Mean Girls I love this movie,” Tae yells excitedly.
“See Kook! It’s a classic!”
He smiles at you but seems shy all of a sudden. Abby, Yoongi, and Jimin sit on the long couch, while Tae sits on the floor in front of Jimin. Jungkook lays across the love seat, keeping his eyes on you. When you’ve got the movie started you walk to the love seat.
“Move your legs before I sit on them,” You threaten sarcastically. He eyes you before spreading his legs just enough for you to fit between them. You narrow your eyes but you take the spot that’s offered. Of course, you didn’t mind sitting there. That’s where you would prefer to sit. However, you knew a few people in the room would have something to say about the sudden attention I was giving him.
Slotting yourself in between his bulky thighs you lean back onto his chest. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel right, it felt perfect; like it was made for you. Feeling a strong presence, you slowly turn your head, coming eye to eye with all four of the others in the room. Yoongi and Tae turn away almost instantly but Jimin and Abby keep their gaze locked. You start the movie and you decide to try to ignore them for now, but you know they’ll make their opinions heard later on.
Halfway into the movie, you start to get cold, so you pull the cover from the back of the couch. As soon as you’re covered his arm slides down yours until he links his fingers with yours. He tightens his fingers as he presses his lips just behind your ear. You inhale deeply, still unable to logically process the way his lips make you feel. Every time they touch you, it feels like a drug. You want more, you need more; but you know you shouldn’t. He doesn’t stop there. His lips keep their pace along your neck, while his fingers let go of yours to trail up the length of your arm.
You take a deep breath and turn to face him, “How do you like the movie so far?” you whisper.
He licks his lips and you feel his silent laugh in his chest behind you, “Its okay, I’m kinda distracted,” he whispers in return.
“Ah, well maybe you should try to focus more?” You smirk.
“Ill try,” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around your chest, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
“Y/N! Where the fuck are your tea bags?” Abby screams from the kitchen. Jungkook’s arms let go of you as soon as he hears her. You get up from your spot knowing damn well that she’s not actually looking for a tea bag. Once she sees you and you’re out of the view of the guys, she pulls your arm to your bedroom.
“Care to explain, because I’m fucking confused,” She raises her arms as she whisper screams.
You sit on your bed, pulling your knees to your chest so you can wrap your arms around them.
“I don’t fucking know Abby, Im co-“ you’re cut off by the sound of your bedroom door opening. A nosy Jimin poking his head inside, until Abby waves him in aggressively.
“Where were we?” Jimin asks sitting next to you cross legged.
You groan loudly, throwing yourself backwards onto the bed, “I don’t fucking know guys.”
“So the last thing I heard was you both Face Timed for like… hours… the other night,” Jimin starts.
“What the fuck! Where was I? Why haven’t you told me!” Abby scolds you. You sit up quickly so you can defend yourself, explaining that she wasn’t available when you needed her and he stepped in. You also talk about how he sent you coffee, and how sweet and caring he’s been.
“But… He came over early, and we… made out a little bit.” You press your lips together after confessing. Abby and Jimin both look at each other, then back to you. Yelling forms of ‘what the fuck!’ and ‘what does that even mean?!’.
“So does this mean you’re dating or what?” Abby asks on behalf of her and Jimin.
“Not exactly, but I think I might be ready to take that step soon,” You murmur covering your red cheeks with your cold hands.
“Thank God, I’m so sick of you two pretending you’re not perfect for each other,” Jimin groans making you shake your head at him.
After a few more minutes of explaining your confusing feelings, you hear a light tap on the door. “Guys, the movie is over, what the fuck are you doing?” Tae yells from the other side of the door.
The three of you shuffle into the living room where the movie’s menu screen is repeating itself. Yoongi and Abby decide to head home, since they have an early morning. Tae looks for any remaining snacks, and you remind yourself to thank Jungkook for bringing more; he was right they were heathens.
“What are you guys doing tomorrow? Should we go out?” Jimin asks, stealing the back of skittles from Tae before he eats them all.
“I have to do this thing for my Aunt actually,” Jungkook says.
“I have plans with some people from work, they’re having a birthday party or something and wouldn’t shut up until I agreed to show up.” You reply, feeling Jungkook’s gaze burning into you.
“Well fine, just me and Tae then!” Jimin says, noticing the sudden tension in the room.
Shortly after, Tae and Jimin say their goodbyes and Jungkook immediately starts picking up the trash from the coffee table. You start to clean dishes, wondering if he was going to say anything about your plans for tomorrow night. When you’re done with the dishes you peak into the living room, watching him as he folds the blanket that earlier hid his affectionate touches. His face was concentrated, brows knitted together as he thought hard.
“You didn’t have to do that,” You interrupt quietly. He turns around quickly, clearly not even realizing how zoned out he was.
“Oh it’s nothing, they can get pretty messy,” He responds as he slides his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.
“Everything okay?” You say quietly walking over to him. He thinks on if for a second, gnawing at his lip.
“I'm trying not to be jealous, I swear I am,” his voice is raspy, he inhales deeply continuing his attack on his lip. You reach out, wrapping your arms around his waist; finally closing the gap in between you. Pulling him close you rest your chin on his chest allowing you to look up at him. His arms instantly wrap around your shoulders.
“You know, I don’t see any of them like that. There’s nothing to be jealous of,” you whisper, sliding your hands under his hoodie. He shivers when your cold hands meet his warm body.
He groans softly, “that’s the thing though!” He starts, he’s clearly over thought the entire situation already, “you might not see them like that yet, but what’s stopping you? What if they say the right thing all of a sudden and you start to think that maybe you could fall for one of them? I don’t know, that’s all I can think about.” he confesses as you lay your ear on his chest. His heart is racing, and all you want to do is calm him down.
“You’re stopping me…” You say quietly. He looks down at you seriously, holding himself back so you can see his face clearly.
“No, y/n I promise if that’s what you want to do I understa-“ he starts to apologize completely misunderstanding you.
“No. Stop, Kook. You asked what was stopping me, and you’re the one that’s stopping me. Not in a bad way, but because I really want this to work. I have never had feelings like this for someone and you need to believe me when I say I’m not interested in anyone else…. Because I only want you.” Your words are slow and full of emotion. It’s exactly how you feel and you know that he needs to hear it. He exhales a breathe of relief, finally trusting your words.
“Good, because I only want you,” he murmurs leaning down so he can press a kiss to your lips, “and listen, if you want me to stop kissing and touching you I will… it’s just…when I’m with you all I want to do is be close to you.”
“The thing is,” You start, moving your arms from around his waist to around his neck, “I feel the same way. Do you maybe want to go to dinner Sunday night? Possibly talk about what this could be?” you ask, then immediately start to chew on your lip. His whole face instantly lit up.
“Holy fuck, please. Yes, please can we do that,” He laughed, instantly making you chuckle. Taking your cheeks in his hands he pulls your face close to his, leaving a feather light kiss on your nose.
After a long hug and a few more kisses, you finally said your goodbyes and he left to go home. He immediately texts you when you get there to confirm that you did in fact ask him to dinner to discuss the status of your relationship. You find yourself giggling into your phone like a crazy person. For the millionth time today, you find yourself thinking , only he can make me feel this way.
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a/n: GUYS, i literally changed the storyline like 15 times while writing this chapter. Please let me know what you think, its all i ask! Thank you for reading and prepare yourself for the next part, its crazy!
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Taglist:
@cainami @carolsummerlove @zeharilisharaban @jikooksgirl19 @fallen-for-luke @madygswich @sugalarity @lofikoo @ggukkieeee @peachy-bhun @megs58298 @kawaiiayasan @ jeonchan26 @ambersaesthetics @hopekookies @rumpucis
#bts#bts fluff#bts smut#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook imagine#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jeon jungkook#jeongguk#jeongguk smut#jeongguk imagine#jeongguk fluff#jimin#taehyung#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction
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Obligatory oc ask game ask, do all of them for Evvy B
And Ash if you wanna (your interpretation of her, don't cheat by asking me)
Part whatever-the-fuck of Soren killing me via oc ask games lmao
Under the cut for excessive length.
🐶 What would your OC do if they were chased by a dog?
Evan, having as much experience with dogs as he does because of Ash's habit of fostering them, would probably just stand there and get bowled over or jumped on. Mirage probably jumps on him and chases him around enough that he overall just responds by blinking and staring the dog down when one runs at him, whether it's being aggressive or not.
As for Ash, I feel like she responds to any dog running her direction with immediate and full-fledged delight and a shout of, "Puppy!"
Given that book-canon Ash can speak to dogs, I also don't think she'd have any issues with aggressive ones.
💋 How would they react to getting a kiss? (can be platonic or romantic)
Evan would react to a romantic kiss (like on the mouth) from anyone but Ash with flabbergasted acceptance. Wouldn't even remotely understand what they see in him to warrant it, but wouldn't be necessarily opposed to one kiss as long as he's not in a committed relationship to Ash at the time - he'd object to anything further, though. Then again, we both know he's gone for Ash and nobody else even if she's not present in a universe so it's probably not a surprise, lol.
A platonic smooch (like on the forehead, cheek, hand, etc) would probably get a different response depending on who from! Loch gives lots of forehead kisses, and Tobi probably gives cheek kisses, so from them he's probably fine with it and has little reaction aside from maybe a little half-smile. Otherwise, he probably would just kind of accept it but, like a romantic one, not understand why it happened.
For Ash, I think it'd depend on who the kiss is from regardless of romantic/platonic intention! I think she's okay with romantic ones from people she's shown interest in (i.e., Evan) and has given permission for, but I think she'd jackslap the shit out of somebody for just planting one on her! Where Evan is just confused even if he didn't give explicit consent for a kiss, Ash will throw down if she didn't give explicit consent for a kiss. Or yell for Evan, depending. Platonic, though, I think is a lot like Evan! Generally she probably accepts them from people she trusts, though, while Evan allows them from whoever because he's more comfortable with physical touch from random people than she probably is.
🌲 What would your OC do in a Minecraft world/server?
Evan seems like the type to have his own Creative mode world where he just builds cave houses and floating cities and a bunch of elaborate junk that he saw on the internet and wanted to replicate.
Ash I think would maybe hang out in Evan’s world and build like, axolotl aquariums and stuff? Random projects much like his, but stuff she likes.
🎤 Can your OC sing?
Evan? Oo, probably not, tbh. Like he probably has a decent enough voice but I don’t think this man can carry a tune, y’know? He’d make for good back-up vocals, but he shouldn’t be the melody man lol. Like he’s got a deep rumbly sort of voice I think and that would back up Ash’s or anyone else’s pretty well.
I swear we have established that she can? But I don’t know if we established if she’s good at it! I think she would be, but like, in the “I can sing when I’m alone with my husband or just making up little tunes or singing songs I like when no one’s listening, but the second I try to do it in front of people, especially ones I don’t trust, my voice doesn’t work anymore” kind of way
💃 Can your OC dance?
He has two left feet and I will not take criticism on this
Ash probably can, but not like... Ballroom stuff? She dances and has fun with it you know? (Evan is still bad at it when he’s just dancing around but the point is to have fun with his wife usually and he excels at that part).
📚 Would your OC cheat in an exam?
If you think he didn’t have to cheat his way through at least two of his high school classes in order to graduate on time, you’re wrong. He will cheat on any exam if it’s required and he doesn’t know the material.
I think if Ash was really desperate to get a decent grade, maybe. But probably not. She seems like she’d be pretty determined to get it without cheating.
⚡ What mythological god would you associate with your OC?
Oo, tough one! Hear me out here though - Evan and Sehkmet. Sure, she’s a war goddess (and a goddess) but literally her job was to destroy Ra’s enemies in battle, and she was also a goddess of healing! That feels pretty Evan-y to me.
Ash, though. Hm... Maybe Janus? He’s the god of doorways, crossroads, duality, and beginnings, all of which feel pretty accurate to Ash, to me.
🎬 What genre would your OC be into?
Evan almost feels like he wouldn’t really watch movies, to be honest. But I don’t think he’d have a preferred genre, overall, even if he does watch movies ― he watches what catches his attention.
Ash seems like a fantasy/sci-fi, mystery/thriller type to me!
✨ What kind of aesthetic do they like?
Evan is almost 100% guaranteed to like grunge aesthetic. Maybe cottagecore too, to an extent, but sh. He doesn’t want anyone but Ash to know about that one.
Ash seems pretty much like she’d be into cottagecore, with maybe some horror/cutesy aesthetics mixed in, all in one. Like. Pastel goth cottagecore, I guess? With lots of skulls and lavender.
✊ Would your OC win in a fight against an ostrich?
Is the ostrich threatening Ash? If yes, then yes, he will destroy that ostrich. If no, nah, he’ll run, he’s not too proud to surrender.
No, no she would not.
🐾 (If human) If they were to turn into an animal, what animal would they be?
I know we make tons of connections between Evan and bears, wolves, lions, etc, but real shit I think he’d be a cheetah or, like, a domesticated canine of some sort. Probably a golden retriever or great Pyrenees.
Again, I know we make Ash and rabbit/bunny connections all the time, but I feel like she’d be a hyena!
🦄 (If human) If they were to turn into a mythical creature, what mythical creature would they be?
So, we have werewolf Evan and shadow demon Evan and even hellhound Evan AUs but I need you to consider: merman or siren Ev.
Ash is 100% a fae.
💌 How would they react to a confession?
I honestly do not think that Evan would believe a confession. I think he’d probably assume you were either joking or screwing with him, and he’d be rather put out but not necessarily angry about it. If you insisted you were telling the truth he might eventually give in to the idea that you’re not screwing with him, but it’s hard telling where it would go from there, especially if he isn’t with Ash. He’s a very skeptical guy and he has a hard time believing people can like him, let alone love him, if they haven’t already known him for a very long time.
Pretty sure Ash would first stand there processing, then turn red, then be either flattered or annoyed depending on how she feels about the person who’s confessing. If she’s not with Evan she might even give a person she likes a chance.
💗 How would they confess?
Well, canonically speaking, Evan confessed to Ash (and would likely confess to anybody else) by messaging her while she was offline and then going MIA for like 24 hours to panic about it. I really don’t think that would change even if he wasn’t with Ash ― he would find a way to tell them without saying it to their face and then not be available to reply to them for a good, long few hours. (Not important, but this would have been Yahoo chat/Skype/MSN-era when he confessed to Ash, which makes it funnier to me somehow because I remember that shit)
I think Ash would be bashful, but overall pretty straightforward! I think she’d work up the courage and eventually just say it, and let the pieces lay where they fell.
💀 If they were one of the 7 sins, what sin would they be?
Evan is Wrath, hands down.
Ash, though... Probably Envy, because she doesn’t give me the feeling of Greed or any of the others.
💘 What kind of person is their ideal type?
Kind, funny, caring, creative, independent, willing to let him do the heavy lifting but also willing to take him to task when necessary and get things done themself without his intervention. So, basically, Ash.
Ash seems to look for strong, semi-aloof people who care very deeply when they care, but have trouble showing it. Her type seems to be either tough, self-confident and borderline egomaniacal people or deeply vulnerable people who are trying to hide how hurt they really are beneath something else. Sometimes it’s both at once.
🎁 What kind of gift would they give at birthdays?
Evan is the type to give people things he thought they’d find cool ― a video game he thinks they’d enjoy, a wood carving he made that reminded him of them, etc. He’s definitely sentimental about it, but keeps it simple. There’s no wild rush to find the perfect gift, either, because he usually has a handful of things in his possession or marked out to buy already by the time getting a present becomes necessary.
To an extent Ash seems like she’s that way, too, but she seems more likely to go out of her way to make something for someone instead of giving them something she already made that she thought they’d like. I’m thinking paintings, stuffies, things like that, special-made for that person.
👹 How much patience does you OC have? Are they patient? Or are they easily irritable?
It depends ― Evan can be among the most patient people on the planet, if only because he learned to wait quietly while living with his dad and during his brief run as a petty thief during high school. However, there are some things that make him easily irritable, primarily certain situations or behaviors that get his heart beating a little faster and get his brain starting to spin.
Ash seems like she’s incredibly patient... Right up until the moment that she isn’t. And while Evan’s irritability/patience can seem like a roulette wheel at times when you’re still figuring it out, it’s probably far harder to predict when the turnover is for her, and how badly she’s going to react once she’s reached her limit.
☠ How petty are they? And what length of pettiness would they go for?
Evan is incredibly, unbelievably petty. He is wave the money he got from hocking your family heirlooms at the local pawn ship in your face petty. He is break into your house and steal all of your right shoes after you said something mean about his wife petty. He is “if you were on fire in front of me, I wouldn’t even piss on you to put you out if you’ve set me off in the past” petty.
Ash seems like she can be pretty petty? I think she’s mostly a pretty mild level of it, though. Like... Post pictures of her lovely, expensive vacation publicly after accepting a friend request from somebody who was mean to her in high school to flex on them petty.
🔪 (More than one OC) If your all of your OCs played among us, who'd be the best imposter? And who'd be the worst?
I’m not doing everybody but I’ll do the Villain Squad for this one.
Lochlier is the best imposter by virtue of her experience with lying with a straight face. Evan is the worst because he gets kinda giggly when he’s imposter and gives himself away. Ash and Tobi are both somewhere in the middle cuz they can be very good, very competent imposters half the time and total shitposters the other half.
🛌 What kind of sleep schedule does your OC have?
If Ash is around, Evan sleeps every night and gets roughly the recommended amount of sleep. If not, he ranges between 14 hour depression naps, sleeping regularly, and not sleeping at all unless he absolutely has to. It’s an anxiety thing. He sits up genuinely concerned that she’ll die or get hurt and he won’t find out until it’s too late.
Ash seems like she does her best to try and sleep every night, but sometimes she may just lay in bed with Evan for hours at a time before she can fall asleep. But she makes an honest effort, even if Evan isn’t around.
🍽 What kind of food do they like?
Evan likes pretty much anything as a result of his, ah, food-related trauma from his childhood. He’s pretty fond of stuff like chicken noodle soup and he really likes chili! He’s especially fond of Tobi’s chili because he loves stuff with a lot of flavor.
Ash seems like she probably likes stuff that isn’t super overly flavorful, probably not a huge fan of salty foods and maybe more into savory stuff? I bet she’d demolish a rack of ribs though.
🍻 Do they drink? If so, how strong is their alcohol tolerance?
Evan is probably at most a social drinker. He may have a drink or two with someone who drinks, or drink at social functions where alcohol is served, but I don’t think he’s overly fond of alcohol. He’s probably a huge lightweight because of how rarely he drinks, but that doesn’t stop him from ordering drinks that are 99% alcohol when he does drink... Because mixed drinks taste better and he hates beer. He gets trashed off two drinks and cries about his wife. Have you met her, by the way? She’s so wonderful, he loves her to pieces.
I think Ash avoids alcohol, but tolerates Evan occasionally partaking because it isn’t a problem health-wise (aside from him continually forgetting his limit an getting trashed) and he doesn’t do it at home or without prompting.
🍺 If your OC drinks, what is their go to alcohol?
Evan’s go to, when he drinks, is probably a vodka cranberry, screwdriver, or mudslide ― always a mixed drink, because he despises the smell and taste of beer. He doesn’t drink often enough to have a be-all, end-all favorite drink, but yeah definitely always a mixed drink and never beer. He had a Jaeger Bomb once and hated every second of it, though, by the way.
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Guardians
[[ A gift for @nuttyrabbit since today’s his birthday! This is the longest fic I wrote, and features a future version of his recently-introduced OC, Mach, and our shared kid OC, Journey (in this verse, named Nozomi Hibiki) as they traverse Osakiru - the Mobius counterpart to Japan that Nutty developed for his characters. Enjoy! ]]
Airigasaki, Osakiru.
Mach heaved a sigh as he rested the nail-bat against his shoulder, peering out at the chaos and embers from behind his signature oni mask. People screamed, cried, and called out for help, for loved ones, for a savior that would not come. The sirens in the distance were nearly drowned out by the crackling of the flames, the hollers of the Sons of the Oni crew and cries of anguish from their victims.
He watched, breathing in the heavy smoke and feeling the heat blasting against his body, the scent and sounds of death around him all but drowned out by his own thoughts.
This was still Lord Frost’s country, and as long as Mach drew breath, he was going to do everything in his power to remind the people of that fact. Frost’s legacy was in his veins, in his heart; so long as Mach kept going, his legacy would never die.
--
Nozomi stirred, blinking slowly. Something had nudged her awake. She wanted to sleep, mumbling, huffing as she nestled deeper against the… garbage bags? She was nudged again.
Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of a baseball bat, wrapped in barbed wire behind held out at her. The owner knelt down to her level, his clothes tattered and torn, his face hidden behind a wooden, scary mask.
… Or at least, a mask that would be scary to most children. Not Nozomi. She was brave. Fearless.
“Yo. You alive?” The stranger asked. Nozomi stared blankly. Her stomach growled loudly. It was the only response he got out of her.
The masked stranger stared at her for what seemed a very long time, and Nozomi curled up again. Hunger pangs shot through her stomach and she whimpered pathetically. After a few moments, the stranger left.
Nozomi tried to make sense of the events in her head, fuzzy as they were.
She remembered a long, fun day out exploring, making the foster workers worry about her whereabouts. Mrs. Suzuki had found her, by the playground, and was walking her back when there was a horrible boom, and people screaming and running. Nozomi recalled Mrs. Suzuki screaming and picking her up, and running. It was so dark, Nozomi couldn’t see - and neither could the poor, scared people, who ran into Mrs. Suzuki, knocking Nozomi from her arms and sending her tumbling. After that, all the child could recall was the stampede of footsteps, being trampled in the fleeing crowd and stumbling into this alleyway. The smoke had made her lungs hurt, and she got sleepy.
She wondered where Mrs. Suzuki was, but was too tired to move.
As she sat up, she heard footsteps approaching, and looked to find the masked stranger from before approaching. He stopped in front of her, and set down a bottle of water and an armful of… food? Her ears shot up attentively, and she swore she heard a snicker from the stranger. That was okay. People liked her ears! They said so often, she recalled.
“... You should probably eat.”
The stranger made a weird huffy noise, and looked around before helping open the bags and containers of food, placing them before the small child, and waited to see if she would move, if she could move in her current state. What would he do if she couldn’t…? He didn’t want to think about it. He’d have to keep moving. Someone else could help her, or she’d simply die. That was just how it was. For now, he watched.
Nozomi looked down at the meal, and back up at the disheveled mobian who stood before her -- and promptly stuck her tiny hands in the food, shoving fistfuls in her mouth, chewing noisily with her mouth open.
“Thanks, Mr. Monster-” Nozomi started.
“...Name’s Mach. And don’t thank me.” The stranger corrected her, against his better judgement.
“Thanks, Mr. Mach!”
Mach stared on in disbelief. He wasn't sure what he expected from the child - looking at her, she couldn't be more than three, maybe four years old at most. It was why he couldn’t just… keep walking. He didn’t usually see the unfortunate victims who were caught up in what he’d set out to do. Never one this small. He was no less determined to fulfil Frost’s legacy, but it was hard to ignore seeing such a tiny body laying down on a pile of garbage bags like she was just minutes earlier, lethargic and left to… He didn’t want to think about it. She wouldn’t have been the first. She wouldn’t be the last. He knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself from watching her.
She was a mess, with tousled hair and wrapped up in an old, tattered sweater that was entirely too big for her, with giant sleeves she used to wipe her face when she was done.
It was then she raised her arms towards Mach, and whined.
"Up, please!" She requested.
Behind his mask, Mach arched a brow. She certainly came around quickly. It was… charming.
But Nozomi wasn't the slightest bit intimidated, looking up at him with her big, bright eyes and a smile that, behind the carved wooden mask, Mach found himself returning, betraying his better judgement.
"Up!" The child demanded once more, and with sagging shoulders and an amused exhale, Mach obliged after making sure no one was around.
“What’s yer name, pipsqueak?” Mach asked.
“I’m not a pipsqueak! I’m Nozomi! Nozomi Hibiki!” She huffed, pouting so fiercely it earned a chuckle from Mach.
She was so small, so light in his scarred arms, so fearless in his presence, that Mach couldn't help but smile behind the mask - it somehow made him feel lighter, though he wasn't sure why. As the child settled in his arms, content with having gotten her way, she tapped a tiny claw against the Oni mask, wondering what his face must look like underneath.
“Where did you stay before this?” He asked, ignoring the dryness in his throat.
“In the big building, with the other kids.” Nozomi answered.
The burnt pile of rubble Mach had passed by before he found her.
The Son of the Oni felt a chill wash over him. He swallowed thickly as he imagined a burning building, full of tiny bodies like Nozomi’s… And quickly shook it off. He had work to do. Important work. It wasn’t his fault; their deaths were the failings of their caretakers, the people who betrayed Lord Frost’s memory, who let G.U.N. come in and tear down his legacy, who failed to get those kids out… And he hadn’t even known there was a foster care facility in the vicinity. He thought he was burning down markets. Stores. Not children.
The pugilist fidgeted slightly - he was supposed to be meeting his crew, do some interrogating, help set things right-- but he couldn't leave her here. Sighing, he wondered if maybe she had anyone else who could take care of her… and if they survived the Sons of the Oni raid. Against his better judgement, he asked.
“Yo, Nozomi, you got anywhere else to go?”
“Go where?”
“No, no I mean -- Tha place ya lived is gone. Did you know anyone else you can stay with?”
“Oh!! I do!”
“Okay, who?”
“You, Mr. Mach!” She giggled, poking the mask.
Mach froze, mouth agape as he stared at the little girl in his arms.
“Yer shittin’ me, right?”
--
It was night again, and there wasn’t a soul to be found on the streets of Airigasaki. As Mach and Nozomi came out of the smouldering half of the district, people fled at the sight of Mach. Screamed in terror at the insignia on the back of his jacket. The Sons of the Oni had come upon their quiet town, and not a soul was brave enough to tear the sleeping child from his arms - or realize that he was looking for someone to take her.
The pugilist cursed himself under his breath. This kid wasn’t his problem. Not his responsibility. He knew he shouldn’t care so much, but feeling her small form against his body, her little breaths against his neck as she slept, the way tiny fingers clasped at his shirt - it made him feel something he hadn’t felt in years. Maybe it was selfish, clinging to this small feeling of importance when he had a legacy to fulfil. Akio and Mirage wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if they found out, but for now, that didn’t matter. He’d find somewhere to dump the kid, and they’d never know.
Sighing as he reached a park, he set the sleeping child onto the bench. His hand moved to brush her overgrown bangs out of her eyes, but pulled away. He looked around warily, wondering if maybe she’d be okay if he just left her here, asleep on the bench. Maybe someone would pick her up in the morning. He glanced down at her, and sighed before walking away.
“Sleep tight, Pipsqueak.”
--
It was daybreak. Mach weaved between the tight alleyways of Airigasaki, hoping to avoid the cops. He just had to make it to the station, and he’d be in the clear. Shimahara was only a few short stops away - that was where the next raid was happening, and he hoped to recruit more men into the Sons of the Oni.
Last night had opened the pugilist’s eyes; the sooner he found Mangetsu, the sooner he amassed enough of Lord Frost’s followers, the sooner this all could stop. The sooner he could set this damned country back on the right track, and finally get G.U.N off their land. Out of the late Emperor’s palace. The sooner he could fulfil his destiny.
He turned the corner when suddenly a small, loud voice called out to him.
“Mr. Mach!”
Suddenly, Nozomi was dangling above, hanging from an awning, a huge grin plastered onto her face. Mach instinctively held out his arms to catch her. She seemed to take this as an invitation, as she lept from the awning, frantically flapping her underdeveloped wings and plummeting down into his arms with a squeal of delight.
He stared at her, silent, unsure of what to do, or why he didn’t want to put her down, when the sound of approaching sirens startled him back to reality. He set her down hastily, and bolted, dashing through the alleyways and crowded streets. He didn’t look back, but he could hear her tiny footsteps, running behind him.
“Hey! Wait for me! Waaaiit!” She whined.
Mach didn’t answer. He focused on his goal - reaching the train before it departed. Surely he’d lose her on the way there. Not his problem. Soon, Airigasaki and Nozomi would just be a distant memory.
“Mr. Mach!” Her little legs couldn’t keep up. He heard a soft thud as she tripped, and cried out:
“Why are you ignoring me?!”
Her words were like thunder in Mach’s head. He froze, panting heavily as he looked down at the small child, her scraped little knee, the tears streaming down her face as she sniffled and rubbed her eyes.
And in that moment, Mach saw himself in the child.
He didn’t really think about it, when he walked up to her, scooped her in his arms, and just continued to run, a calloused hand firmly on her back, supporting her, securing her.
They boarded the train together.
--
It was raining in Shimahara.
The train station had vending machines with ice creams. He didn’t feel like eating, but Nozomi was enjoying a treat. She was a mess of matted fur, sticky fingers and sopping wet -- and shoveling an icecream sandwich into her mouth. It was gross, sloppy, and somehow endearing. It was such a far cry from how sad she was as they boarded the train, her feelings hurt by Mach’s attempts to abandon her, or how curious she had become aboard the train, gasping and tugging on Mach’s sleeve excitedly as she looked out the window.
He was beginning to understand why people had kids. He’d only known her for about a day, and she’d dragged him through a whirlwind of emotions since they met, and yet -- this was the happiest he’d been in years.
He was going to miss her.
“All done, Pipsqueak?” He asked.
Nozomi had been sitting on a bench with him outside the station, her legs dangling off the seat as she kicked them while stuffing her face with ice cream.
“Mhm!” She held up her empty, sticky hands at Mach to prove it. He laughed.
“Let's go then.”
The two of them set off.
Mach fidgeted, brimming with nervous energy. The raid was tonight, and where would that leave Nozomi? He couldn’t take her with him - it’d traumatize her, make her hate him and could effectively cost him recruits if they thought he was going soft. Handing her off to someone who lived in the area meant she would just be among the body count after the raid and he couldn’t stomach the thought. He cursed himself for getting attached.
[ Fuckin’ idiot. ]
“Mr. Mach! You shouldn’t say bad words!” Nozomi scolded him, putting her hands on her hips.
“Sorry, sorry.” Mach mumbled, rolling his eyes behind the mask.
As the two continued to walk, Mach found himself thinking back to Takeda. She would have known what to do with Nozomi, how to take care of her -- it only now occurred to Mach that while he was okay with being soaked thanks to his aquatic nature, Nozomi probably wasn’t. He wondered if it was possible to track Takeda down, and if he could, whether or not she’d be willing to help him with his little predicament.
But for now, he had an idea.
“C’mon, Pipsqueak. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Half an hour and two stolen towels later, Mach walked into a Children’s Department store with Nozomi. He had a few bucks - might as well treat the kid. He had to get her out of that drenched sweater anyway.
He let her lead him, her tiny fingers curled around his as she excitedly dragged him along, gasping at all the cool clothes and pointing excitedly at what appealed to her -- and what appealed to her absolutely stole Mach’s heart.
It was a positively hideous black t-shirt with a cartoonish skull, which wore a fantastically awful bright pink bow. There was glitter on the bow, and everywhere, really, and a pair of black leggings with the ugliest little tutu dress- which, surprising no one, also had glitter - and the tiniest pair of punk boots Mach had ever seen.
He bought the items to the counter, his heart hammering in his chest; what the fuck was he doing? He could be caught. Arrested. He was putting Frost’s legacy on the line for this-- this adorable little punk.
He stood stiffly before the register, and the woman behind it smiled at him warmly.
“I uh, need ta pay for these. For her.” He fumbled the words out.
“Of course.” The woman said, patiently. As she rang up the skull shirt, Mach chuckled dryly.
“She’s uh, got weird taste.”
The woman gave him a look, eyeing him up and down as he stood before her, hoodie pulled up, wearing his Oni mask and in his usual, tattered attire, smiled and said, “I can’t imagine where she gets it from.”
Mach was grateful that the mask hid his features, as an insidious blush crept across his features as he muttered under his breath, taking the bag, calling over Nozomi and hastily tutting her to the backroom to get changed so they could leave.
--
Soon, the two stopped to get lunch. Some on-the-go ramen was a welcome treat, and after retreating to the relative safety of a dark alley, Mach finally lifted his mask, turning it so it rested on the side of his head so that he could eat.
Nozomi nearly spilled her cup in shock, leaning forward suddenly as she saw Mr. Mach’s face for the very first time.
“Whoa! Your eyes are so cool!” She gasped.
Mach chuckled, “Yeah? Watch this.”
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he focused. When he opened his eyes again, giving the kid a crooked but genuine grin, his eyes were glowing an array of different colors. Nozomi was mesmerized, flapping her tiny wings excitedly, earning another laugh from Mach.
As the glow faded out, the two ate their lunch in relative silence. Or, rather, Mach fell deep into his own thoughts and didn’t hear whatever topic Nozomi was prattling off about. She tended to jump around a lot and ramble about nothing in particular, and sometimes it came out a bit like gibberish. Four year olds weren’t exactly known for being great conversation partners.
Without really thinking about it, he pulled an old, tattered journal from his jacket’s inner pocket.
It was solid black, with ice-blue decals. The words on the pages inside were written in a delicate, formal handwriting, each thought carefully recorded.
[Legacy, huh…? Ya sure know how to pick ‘em, Lord Frost.] Mach thought to himself, as his calloused fingers traced over a page in the journal. His time with Nozomi had made him feel like himself again for the first time in years, he had laughed for what felt like the first time in an eternity.
“What’s a legacy?” Nozomi’s question pulled Mach back to reality, and he stared, dumbfounded.
Where did that come from?
“Uh… Well, a legacy is… when you represent someone’s ideals an’ shit, an’ carry it on fer ‘em after they’re gone. Make sure it survives, no matter what. Make sure nobody forgets.”
“Ohh,” Nozomi said, her face serious. “And who’s Lord Frost?”
Mach nearly dropped the journal, staring at Nozomi slack-jawed. No way. No fuckin’ way.
[You pickin’ my mind, Pipsqueak? Like it's your nose?]
“Gross!” Nozomi giggled.
Mach opened his mouth to speak, and no sound came out.
How had he missed this? He smacked his forehead, recalling when she had scolded him for thinking a curse word. He’d been so wrapped up in everything, it never occurred to him that he hadn’t said it aloud.
A fucking four-year-old that could read minds. He had to laugh about it - that was just his luck, wasn’t it?
---
Shimahara burned.
But by then, Nozomi and Mach were on the next train out.
Mach wasn’t certain of his next step, or what he wanted to do, much less what he was supposed to do. But he knew someone who would have the answers, or at the very least, help him find them.
---
Akhone, Osakiru.
The countryside was… different than any place Mach had been in the six years since Frost’s demise. It was so serene. There were no alleys, no street vendors, no traffic, no smog. No colorful vending machines or giant outlets.
People didn’t scream or stare fearfully at him. They glanced his way, and seeing little Nozomi holding his hand, would smile and wave. There were people working the fields, and little shops in town. When Mach asked directions, the townsfolk happily pointed him in the right direction.
It was a modest little abode by the lake. A familiar crane got to his feet when he saw Mach and Nozomi approaching, and called for the old woman inside as they reached the front door.
Takeda came to the door. The cup of tea in her hands fell to the floor as she saw him - it had been so, so long, and now he’d come home. She ran up and pulled him in a hug, and Mach, against his better judgement, melted into the embrace, returning it. His head was swimming, his thoughts at war with each other.
She led him inside, and for the first time in ages, Mach felt at home.
--
As Mach lay in bed that night, Nozomi curled up against his chest, Takeda and Penumbra in the adjacent rooms, he found himself reflecting on the events of the past 2 weeks. Meeting this incredible little girl, and travelling with her across not one, not two, but three different provinces as she reminded him how to enjoy life again. How one little girl had changed his life in such a short amount of time, with her infectious joy and endearing quirkiness, Mach couldn’t be certain.
A lot of things, Mach found, were uncertain.
Mach wasn’t sure where he was going, he wasn’t even really sure who he was anymore. A boy. A man. A legacy. A failure. A father? Hell if he knew.
But the little girl in his arms, with her silly tutu that had left Mach and their bed covered in glitter, and her horrid, sticky little fingers and adorable laugh? She was his journey and wherever she took him - whether it was to the other side of Osakiru or the world, he figured he’d be okay with that as long as she was happy.
#My writing#My Art#GO TELL NUTTY HAPPY BIRTHDAY#Gifts for Peeps#Long post - no srsly. almost 3500 words. my longest fic yet.#I don't write often and it shows ksjfsk
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Some Sugar
Part 1: just keep breathin’
pairing: sugar daddy!steve rogers x reader
characters: reader, steve rogers, cassandra jones (oc), selena (oc), bucky barnes, sam wilson
word count: 3k+
warnings: angst, family issues, money problems
summary: you need to just remember to breathe
a/n: give me validation please and let me know what you think
prev || all || next
There’s a steady stream of customers all night, nothing like a few nights ago, but it’s definitely better than it’s been for a while. While you want to be happy for Cassandra, your mind keeps going back to your Aunt Magdalena’s threats, most recently a note slipped under your door, that you thankfully found before Esmeralda could.
It’s no wonder why your mom (and dad) kept communications with her to a minimum—which only adds to the mystery of why she went to her of all people for money.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice calls for your attention, it’s strong yet somehow nervous. When you look up to smile at him, you’re greeted by stormy, blue eyes illuminated by the lights behind you on the shelves and mirror. He’s handsome, alarmingly so with brown hair cascading down to the top of his broad shoulders—cheekbones sharp and chin dented right at the end and covered by mild scruff.
Holy fuck … what you wouldn’t give to spend a night with him. It’s been so long since...
Hey! You’re at work, and work means focusing!
You push your warring thoughts aside and manage your best customer service smile. “What can I get for you?”
“Three beers,” he says, eyes falling to the taps behind you, and with a quiet and unsure voice, he orders three Mirages.
You smile reassuringly. “Good choice.” When he eyes you curiously, you explain, “Local brew.” You turn your back to him and grab the glasses for beer as Cassandra squeezes by you to reach the register at the end of the bar to charge a group.
You fill one of the glasses and set it aside while you absentmindedly fill up another, the sound of the soothing trumpets playing through the speakers washing over the bar.
Eleven thousand dollars. How are you going to pay that much money in two months?
“You okay?” Cassandra asks, watching you carefully, eyes drifting to the glass in your hand.
You’re quick to switch to the final glass when you realize you’re about to overfill the second. With a tired smile you say, “I’m fine.”
She frowns, shaking her chocolate curls, but before she can say anything, someone saunters up to the bar and orders a drink. She gives you a look that says—I’m not done with you—and starts making the drink for the customer.
With the final glass filled, you spin on your heels to face the male that ordered the beers and are surprised to find he’s no longer alone—two men are flanking him.
They’re just as tall and wide as the brunette—a contrast of skin between them, the one on his left a beautiful shade of umber—dark and rich. Black hair short and buzzed, and a thin beard making his face seem slimmer than he appears to be, apple of his cheeks high and round when he smiles at something his companions say. Handsome in a simple white tee and black leather jacket.
The other man on his right is white, almost pink and peach with the low lighting of the bar, nothing like the tanned brunette between them. If his friends are handsome, he’s beautiful. Golden hair slicked back with a semi fade on the sides; muscles tightly wrapped and bounded by a blue Henley that you’re certain is a size too small; lashes, long and thick brush against his cheek bones; face clear of scruff and dark shadows; lips pink and pretty—something almost boyish in his smile that makes you crack a smile of your own.
Shit. You’d take any one of them home!
Three pairs of eyes land on you as you set down their beer, and you freeze, locking with blue eyes—bright and alarming, specks of hazel and greens around his iris making his eyes pop in the dark bar. Something flashes within them, and there’s something familiar about them that you can’t quite place.
What is it?
Cassandra makes a noise from beside you, like a hum and a snicker and you realize you might’ve been staring at him for far too long. Shit.
Clearing your throat, you drag your gaze to the brunette between them and smile politely. “Here are the first two, let me just get the last one.” A sleek, black card comes into view after placing down the final glass, and you take it, a little embarrassed. “Open tab or closed?”
“Keep it open,” the blonde says, a familiarity directed at you that has you raising your eyebrows, but you ignore it. “Just in case.”
“Of course.” You don’t really look at him or his friends after accepting the card, scurrying away to swipe his card to make sure it’s good, and input his first order under the last name on his card—Rogers. Storing the card for the meantime, you go back to cleaning the bar.
“You sure you’re okay?” Cassandra tries again.
“Cass,” you warn with a sigh, eyes trailing over to the men that have decided to settle on the bar-stools instead of an empty table—the three too busy engaged in their own conversation to listen in on yours.
“As your boss and friend, I have every right to worry about you,” she says, resting an elbow on the bar and leaning forward. “Your head has been up in the clouds lately. And more than usual. Did something happen to your mom? Is she okay? Is her arm not healing properly?”
“She’s as okay as a chemotherapy patient can be,” you snap harshly, rubbing at the bar fiercely. She blinks at you surprised and doesn’t retort—shame immediately creeps up on you. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean—“
“Hey. Hey. I know,” she affirms gently. “It hasn’t been easy for you, but you know I’m here if you ever want to talk.” She makes a gesture to herself and your eyebrows knit.
The glasses clink as you put them away. “Thanks. She’s getting better, but I’m not ready. Not yet.”
She nods solemnly. “I understand, but I’m here whenever you are. You hear?” she says, pointing a finger at you before taking the empty tray to the back.
You watch her leave with a sigh. You really shouldn’t be taking out your frustrations on others, you mentally scold yourself.
As you continue wiping down glasses, your phone vibrates in your back pocket, slipping it out discreetly, a notification of a new message appears on the lock screen.
Selena⛱☀️: Went over the docs. You free to talk?
Just those simple words are enough to steal your breath away; dread filling your bones. She didn’t add an emoji, you realize; no emoji usually meant trouble.
Your grip tightens around your phone.
Skyscraper: gimme min
Stuffing it back into your pocket, you look around the semi empty bar—the group in the back, the three men at the bar, a couple by the entrance. Biting your lip, you look back at the door Cassandra slipped through, cautiously. Your phone vibrates again, and it’s enough to push you towards it.
Twisting the knob slowly, you poke your head in and find Cassandra near the merch taking inventory, and your coworker, Matt cleaning up the small kitchen by Cassandra’s office.
Rapping on the wood, the two drag their attention to you. “Cass, do you mind if I make a quick call?”
She blinks, a worried frown stretching itself across her ebony skin and her shoulders tense. You shake your head when she raises an eyebrow.
“Personal,” you tell her. “Kind of.”
Her shoulders drop and a small smile replaces her frown. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll man the front while you’re away.”
“Thank you.”
You slip into the small hallway connecting the bar to the two gender-neutral bathrooms for customers. You lean against the locked door leading into Cassandra’s office, never used since you started working here, and stare at the door leading out into the dirty alleyway.
The phone rings against your ear, the faint music from the bar encasing the small hallway too, it’s soothing in a strange way, with its slow beat and sensual saxophone solo.
“Hello?” Selena answers, a loose mix of a Californian and Australian accent seeping into her words. She’s only been living in California for a little over a year and she’s already picked up the accent faster than she did yours—traitor.
“How’s the Californian sun?”
“Golden,” she answers readily, a grin apparent in her voice. “Better than New York’s, that’s for certain. Though, not quite like home.” Keys clicking in the background float to your ear. “I looked over the documents—“
You straighten, lifting your thumb to bite your skin. “And?”
She hesitates, clothes rustle and she takes in a deep breath that you try not to read into. “It’s all legit.” Fuck. “Usually, we can exploit mistakes or loopholes, but your aunt was completely thorough with her agreement.” Your head hits the wooden door. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you want to hear.”
“It’s fine.”
“Look, I have a thousand dollars saved up right now—“ You’re quick to stop her by calling her name, but she won’t allow you to interrupt her. “And I could probably get another $500 soon—“
You clench your eyes closed. “You don’t have to do that, Sel. I could always get another loan from the bank and--“
“Will you shut up and let me finish? I know your pride won’t let you accept my money for free.” You slide down the door, head hanging as you listen to her. “You can always pay me back, at your terms. Ten, twenty a month, a year, fuck, I don’t care. Whatever makes you feel better. But I’m not going to let you take out another loan! You’re still paying off your mom’s hospital bill and that dumb loan you got for Esmeralda’s school fees!”
“Selena, you really don’t have to—“
“I know I don’t have to,” she snaps harshly, voice full of tough love. “I want to. You and your family helped me through a tough time and I want to help you guys too. I’m in a place where I can help, and if you won’t accept my help, then fuck you, I’ll tell your sister and I’ll send her the money.”
You choke back a sob.
“Listen,” she starts, her voice soft as you hold back sniffles, “1500 isn’t a lot, or even half of the money your aunt is demanding, but it’s a start. And I have a plan, okay? I asked Camille and Jason to whip up a new contract, using the 1500 as a down payment of sorts. I can’t guarantee it’ll work, but we’re going to negotiate with her, fight for it. It’s not over yet.”
“God, what would I do without you?”
Her voice cracks as she scoffs a laugh. “Good thing you don’t have to find out, huh?”
The music fades into the background, loud laughter cuts through the noise. Cassandra’s voice rings out loudly, announcing last call. “I feel so hopeless, Sel,” you admit to her, words laden with grief and exhaustion, and in some ways guilt. Guilt that you can’t do more for your family. Guilt that you didn’t do more to stop JC from leaving. Guilt that you’re such a horrible daughter and sister.
“Oh, darl’...”
“The hospital bills, Esme’s school, even the bare necessities—it was hard to scrape by, and now this? I just—why can’t we catch a break? Esme doesn’t deserve this. Fuck, Mom doesn’t deserve this!” Maybe if you had fought harder—tried harder, none of this would be happening.
“You don’t either.”
She might be right, but it does nothing to ease the guilt that’s slowly starting to grow in your chest. “I’m sorry, Selena. I should let you go. I’ve asked enough of you already.“
“Hey! None of that, okay? I should be the one apologizing for not being there to hand you tissues and force feed you those ice lollies you like so much.” You let out a wet snort that she mimics. “I want you to know, no, I need you to know, that even if I'm miles away, I’m always here for you if you ever need me. No matter what.”
You rub the heel of your hand against your eye. “I know. Thank you, Sel.”
“You’re welcome.”
With whispered goodbyes and cheesy “I love you’s” you hang up. Curling up, you cover your face with your hands, shuddering breath escaping your lungs as you will yourself not to cry.
“Ma’am?” It’s soft, careful and almost stern like, kind of like Captain America from the hospital. “Are you—are you all right?” No, not kind of. It is Captain America from the hospital!
Your eyes snap up, heat licking your skin at the embarrassment of having been caught crying twice by—eyebrows knead together as they take in the blonde costumer with the black card that can certainly not be your Captain America… right?
Rogers. Rogers… Roge—fucking shit. Wait a minute! He’s the real Captain America? You’ve been caught crying by Captain fucking America? Not once, but twice? That’s fucking worse! “It’s you… you’re really… Captain America?”
He smiles, it’s kind and sweet—warmth. “You remember me.”
Of course you remember him! You just can’t believe he’s the real Captain America, history book figure, war hero Steve Rogers. You feel like an absolute idiot for not having noticed!
“Kind of hard to forget when you caught me ugly sobbing in a hospital courtyard,” you find yourself quipping back as you make to stand, quickly rubbing away your tears. “Thank you for the handkerchief, by the way. I didn’t bring it with me—“ Not that you were expecting to see him again, anyway, but you had been carrying it around just in case.
“Don’t worry about it. I told you I have more at home.” Heat crawls up your neck—because of course he does. He’s Steven Rogers, Captain America. An Avenger. A loaded Avenger in every sense of the word. He chuckles, ducking his head, but then he sobers up, smile replaced by a small frown. “Are you okay—I heard—I heard,” he pauses to swallow and you realize that he’s heard more than your crying. Fuck. “Crying. I heard you crying. Again,” he adds the last bit like a second thought.
He’s a shit liar, but you still appreciate his effort. “Fine. I’m fine, thank you for worrying about me,” you tell him softly, trying to push a smile forward. Probably looks more like a grimace. “You probably have a lot more important things to worry about than me.”
Just as you have more important things to worry about.
Peggy Lee’s voice fills the hallway with her soft, haunting crooning—“I was always a fool for my Johnny,” she sings and it jerks you. For just a moment you forget where you are; you’re suddenly eight years old again, watching your mom teach your brother how to play the guitar as your dad records them with the handheld camera.
Your mom looks at you and asks you to sing along with them, but you refuse, embarrassed that she’d even suggest you should sing! You can’t sing! But she and your teasing dad somehow coax you to screech the lyrics along with your brother’s playing, and by the end of it, you’re completely overheated and embarrassed that your dad got it all on tape, even your impromptu performance of dancing around the living room like a maniac.
But as soon as the memory comes, it’s gone. Fading to the deepest pit of your mind as you once more find yourself in the small hallway of your workplace, Steve Rogers’ frown growing deeper, lines making themselves at home on his forehead as he watches you contemplatively. “Do you—Would you like to exchange numbers?”
His request comes completely out of left field, it’s practically enough to shock whatever tears were still threatening to fall to dry up. It’s a welcome distraction. “Why?” falls from your parted lips.
He scratches the back of his head, ears turning pink as he turns away. “I just thought—uh—too forward?”
A little, you want to say, but your inner Cassandra and Selena are calling you an idiot, urging you to give him your number. Should you? You’re not going to lose anything by giving it to him. You’re probably not going to gain anything from it either. But how many times will you ever be able to say that an Avenger asked for your number? That Steve Rogers asked for your number? “Okay.”
His head snaps up and something within his eyes stir, you don’t know what it is or even come close to understanding it, but it sends a weird hum through your body that you try to ignore. Noticing your staring, his melts and gives way to his earlier softer look—kind and warm. “Here.” He gives you his phone after unlocking it and you take it, inputting your number and name before handing it back to him. He says your name aloud—and you physically resist the urge to react to him saying your name—and his lips tilt upward. “Nice to officially meet you.”
“Hey, Steve, we should—“ Steve moves his head to look over his shoulder as you lean to the side to find who you’ve come to the realization must be another Avenger—Falcon. His earthy eyes move between you and Steve, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Am I interrupting something?”
Your lips roll into your mouth to hide the grimace you’re mostly likely sporting. “Ah, no, we—I was just—thank you again, um, Cap? Steve?”
“Steve,” he tells you, smiling reassuringly in your direction before turning to Sam with a semi serious expression. “I’ll be there in a moment, Sam.“
“It’s fine,” you interject, moving your gaze from him and his friend to stare over their shoulders’ and out into the warm lit bar. “I need to get back to work, anyway.”
“Right, of course,” Steve says, stepping aside to let you through. You smile at him briefly but before you can pass by him, he stops you with a shy smile. “You wouldn’t mind if I call you?”
You falter slightly, taking you a moment to recover, but once your muscles relax, you flash him an unguarded smile. “No, I wouldn’t.”
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers imagine#sugar daddy!steve rogers#sugar daddy!steve rogers x reader#reader insert
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it was enchanting to meet you
Summary: “my thoughts will echo your name, until i see you again”
[part 1 || part 2]
Word count: 5990
Pairing: Jaebum X OC
Warning(s): angst
A/N: here’s the second part to the vow inspired au! enjoy ~ as mentioned before, the title and summary is from taylor swift’s enchanted.
early august 2019.
jaebum has been busy with projects all year long, ever since he returned. it took him some time before he got used to the routine again. he wasn't confident to take any projects for the first month or so, but he slowly accepted offers to get into the momentum. and now, his schedule is packed. there is barely any time to relax. but jaebum doesn't complain about it. rather, he's thankful that his time is occupied with work. after all, his personal life hasn't been the best for the past year.
"what's up jayb~" a voice interrupts jaebum's monologue.
jaebum sighs. there's only one particular person that tires him. he looks up from his camera to greet back. but he notices only one person. "hey bam. where's yeji?"
"ah, about that," bambam replies, scratching the side of his neck. "yeji's not participating this time. she's packed with other shoots. i got a new model but... she has zero experience."
yeji always models for bambam's fashion collections, and the designer has always made sure yeji is his model, claiming that yeji brings out the best in his work. so it's unlike bambam to take a risk like this. nevertheless, jaebum trusts his decision to use a substitute. with a model that has no experience, it'll probably a long day, jaebum thinks. bambam eyes him, worried and at the same time, cautious. jaebum flashes him a smile and pats his back.
"i'll be nice," he assures the designer, who immediately looks relieved. bambam proceeds to call his model in for an introduction. but jaebum isn't interested. models come and go, so he barely pays them any attention. as long as they're able to conform to his instructions and directions, it'll be easy. he's busy setting up his camera, double-checking the theme when he hears a sharp intake of breath.
jaebum looks over and freezes.
jaein.
with her wide doe eyes, she's staring at him as if she just saw a ghost.
bambam speaks then, introducing the two, "jaein, this is jaebum, the photographer i always work with for my collections. jaebum, this is--"
"jaein," jaebum exhales. her name feels strangely familiar on his tongue despite not having said it aloud for so long.
"oh, you two know each other?" bambam blinks at them, clueless at the tension in the air.
"just a little," jaein replies in a small voice.
jaebum's eyes never left jaein. it's just been a long while since he last saw her. no, he hasn't been counting. he doesn't want to remember that memory when she-- no, let's stop right there.
she just smiles professionally, bowing politely, as she says, "please take care of me. i'm inexperienced in this whole... modeling thing."
jaebum keeps mum, nodding blankly. bambam doesn't say anything -- clueless still -- as he leads jaein to the changing room. in the meantime, jaebum tries to set his mind right: focus on his work and nothing else. he cannot be distracted with past memories.
but god, how can he not? jaein emerges from the room, make-up on, dressed in bambam's latest fall collection, making jaebum's heart skip a beat. she looks beautiful, his traitorous mind keeps whispering. there are only a handful of outfits for her to change into, but she seems to shine in every one of them.
it's obvious that jaein has zero experience in modelling. her posture a little awkward, expression rather dull. but as jaebum directs her, she gets the hang of it slowly. jaein has a naturally beautiful body, jaebum realizes. that is why bambam chooses jaein as his model. her figure is similar to yeji's: lean, petite and feminine.
for one particular close-up shot, jaebum instructs jaein to put her hand underneath her chin and look directly at the camera lens. but he quickly regrets it, for he gets entranced with her eyes. it's like a blackhole: her gaze sucking him in, no way out. it's been so long time since she looked at him directly in the eye.
jaein blinks, a little confused. and jaebum realizes how distracted he was and quickly snapped out of it. he brings the camera up to his face, its body covering his burning face. jaebum mentally berates himself for the momentary slip-up.
a few more shots and then, jaebum announces the end of the shooting. bambam emerges from the corner, looking pleased as he stands in front of jaebum's computer screen, the photos displayed. he beckons the new model to see the photos too.
"you look great!" bambam praises the female from the side. jaebum notices how she pinches the boy's arm, embarrassed.
"it's because i'm wearing your designs!" jaein flounders, giggling. "and besides," she continues, tone now normal and polite, "the shots were taken well."
jaebum feels a pair of eyes on him, and it makes his skin warm. he turns, and jaein is looking at him directly, unafraid. her lips curl up into a smile. jaebum feels breathless. when did he last see that smile, jaebum doesn't even know. her eyes twinkle, sincere, as she utters. "thank you."
it feels like time has stopped and his vision tunneled only for jaein. it's like a sweet dream that jaebum would never want to wake from. it reminds him of the time when they were washing dishes at the cafe, and they had been playful, splashing water at each other. at that time, jaebum wished for jaein to be in his life forever. but look at them now. just strangers with a past.
jaebum clears his throat, stuttering, "t-thank you..."
but it's all drowned out by bambam whining from hunger. the designer pushes jaein into the changing room, urging her to be quick. within record, the two hastily left jaebum's studio, leaving him all alone with jaein's photos still displayed on his computer.
---
early october 2019.
afterwards, jaebum hasn't heard anything from jaein. no, he hasn't asked about her. but he knows that bambam is in constant contact with her. heck, he goes to the yoo's cat cafe weekly, claiming to have fallen for the cats there. the designer keeps pestering jaebum to visit their cafe, not knowing that he lived there for almost half a year.
nevertheless, jaein has been frequently appearing in jaebum's dreams. it's not the same scene, but it has a common theme. they would spend the time together -- sometimes going on dates, sometimes just laughing about nothing in particular and other times lazing around in bed -- but the dream always ends with jaein calling his name. just a plain "jaebum" followed by a soft smile. she would always be glowing, the sunlight always on her back.
jaebum doesn't know why he has been dreaming of her, but now his mind is plagued with thoughts of jaein. like some lovesick puppy, he would always want to know more about jaein's day. just a glimpse of her face would be enough too. but circumstances disallow him. he cannot drive to ilsan in the middle of the night just to see her. god, that would make him a creep. so he just bears it within himself, tries to contain it despite the growing urge to seek it out.
jaebum has an exhibition coming up, and it has taken his mind off certain things. or rather, a particular person. he had a fleeting thought to invite jaein just so he could see her again. but he decided not to. he doesn't want to transgress any boundary between them, if there is even one. jaein probably wouldn't want him in her life anyway. jinyoung had scoffed at his opinion, arms were crossed in disapproval.
"you're just assuming things," his best friend had said.
but jaebum doesn't think so. because if he was in jaein's shoes, he wouldn't want to do anything with the person who hurt him the most.
"but that's not for you to decide," jinyoung had responded.
yeah, it's not. he doesn't have a say in anything jaein does now. yet he just feels that it's wrong to try to insert himself into jaein's life again.
but in this moment, seeing jaein in his exhibition, jaebum thinks it's a mirage. did he miss her so much, yearn for her so much that he starts hallucinating? he sees her waltzing through the main door, dressed in a simple peach sweater tucked into blue denim jeans. he hadn't sent her an invitation at all. it must have been--
"i invited her," jinyoung says from his side. jaebum didn't even hear his friend's footsteps, too focused on jaein. the younger man squeezes jaebum's shoulder. "go talk to her."
"i'm not sure if i should..."
"just think of it as a host-guest interaction," jinyoung advises. "start small. maybe it'll grow bigger." he grins. jaebum doesn't know what his friend is plotting in his head but he reckons the idea isn't bad. so the man takes a deep breath, smoothing his clothes before making his way.
"hello," jaebum starts.
"hello," jaein greets back, a friendly smile on her lips. "congratulations on your exhibition. i just reached but your works are truly splendid."
jaebum preens at the compliment, thanking her. "would you like a personal tour?" he offers.
"um-- it's fine. i don't wish to burden you."
"it's not burdensome at all. i'm free anyway."
jaein is reluctant in accepting the offer. but when jaebum insists, she gives in. pleased, jaebum brings her around the hall, providing the background information on his works, commenting a little on his thought process as he goes along. he doesn't know how time has flown by so fast. they finished the tour but he craves for more time. he doesn't want the day to end so soon. he doesn't want jaein to leave yet.
"i hope i wasn't boring you," jaebum says, passing her a cup of water when they're in the vip lounge room, away from the masses. they sit comfortably next to each other. jaein doesn't even try to move away.
"oh no, you weren't. i liked it very much, thank you," jaein assures him, sipping on the water.
"really? then shall i have a pop quiz about the works?" he teases.
jaein laughs, a sound jaebum hasn't heard in a long while. "bring it on!"
jaebum's eyebrows raised high, surprised that jaein is willing to take up the challenge. he thinks for awhile, then starts asking the simple questions. surprisingly, jaein gets it all correct. she really did listen to his commentary.
"do you have a favorite piece?" he asks.
jaein nods. "i like the shot of the stray cats in an alley. it reminds me of home."
that shot was taken when jaebum roamed around the streets for inspiration. he noticed a cat making its way into the alley. out of curiosity, he followed and that was how he saw a few stray cats making themselves comfortable at the weirdest spots. the scene paralleled his life at that moment: lost, left abandoned. but unlike the cats, jaebum doesn't have a place he can call home. there's only a place for him to rest. he's all alone.
"do you have a favorite?" she echoes his question.
"none," jaebum replies honestly, much to jaein's surprise. "i mean-- i do have a favorite piece, but i didn't put it out to the public."
"and why is that?"
"because..." jaebum trails off. it's hard to say. his favorite piece wasn't even his personal project. it was during the photoshoot for bambam's fashion collection. the shot of jaein looking directly at the camera, lips a little parted, eyes glazing. jaebum had stared at that photo for so long, he reckons it's tattooed in his mind. worse still, jaebum had actually printed it out in a huge canvas but stored away in his room, covered with a large cloth. perhaps that is the root cause of his constant dreams.
when jaebum snaps back to reality, jaein has expectant eyes on him. his answer never came because the door opens suddenly. there's footsteps approaching and a call of his name. jaebum sees how jaein becomes more upright now as if she's putting up walls. before he can even turn, there's a pair of arms wrapping around his neck from behind.
jaebum glances sideways, enough to see the person behind him. "you said you weren't coming."
"well, yeah, initially. but my schedule was finished so i have time now!" seulgi returns gleefully.
"i shall make a move first," jaein pipes up and seulgi looks as if she just noticed the female. "thank you for the invitation," she says. her eyes connect with jaebum's, and even if it's for a moment, jaebum feels his heart soar.
he chokes out, "you're welcome."
jaein smiles, politely bidding goodbye before walking away. jaebum can't help but watch her retreating back as she exits. she shuts the door and the sound of it echoes in the room. similar to his heart, jaebum feels void, empty.
"so!" seulgi brings his attention back. "are you done?"
"um, yeah. you don't want to look around?"
"nah, it's boring," seulgi says nonchalantly. it shuts jaebum. "let's grab dinner!" the female drags jaebum by the hand.
---
late october 2019.
"seulgi wants to continue with the engagement," jaebum confides in his best friend. he has been on the fence about it. seulgi brought up the topic during their dinner on the day of his photo exhibition. now that jaebum is back and well-adapted to his old life again, she suggested their relationship continue too. but jaebum wasn't able to give an answer then, requesting some time to think. he noticed how her smile dropped, but she quickly returned a wide smile. she even allowed jaebum to take as long as he needs.
"but i... i don't know. i just don't want to be in any relationship right now," jaebum adds. he sighs, leaning back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling. "honestly, i feel like i don't even know myself anymore. i was so sure about seulgi back then. but now, i don't even know if i could love her the way i used to."
jinyoung has kept his silence, carefully lending a listening ear. but when he speaks, his tone is cautious, words stringing out slowly. "if you must know," he starts, "i never liked seulgi that much."
jinyoung's sudden confession has jaebum wide-eyed, mouth agape. his own best friend dislikes seulgi, yet he didn't mention it once. when their eyes meet, jinyoung wears a serious expression.
his friend says, "people kept saying how you two are the perfect couple: highschool sweethearts that defied the 'breaking up during college' curse. but i always felt that you two are not meant for each other. it always seemed as if you're the only one in the relationship. you loved her more than she loved you. it was an imbalanced, one-sided relationship that i don't even know why you stayed for so long!"
jaebum's mind starts replaying memories with seulgi. true, there were moments when jaebum felt as if he's alone in the relationship. during college, jaebum remembers making time for her despite his busy schedules and tight deadlines. but seulgi always spent her free time hanging out with her other friends instead. and he always felt unappreciated for seulgi seldom goes out of her way for him.
yet he chose to stay with seulgi because of the butterflies he felt in his stomach whenever they're together. he chose to stay because even though seulgi's not always around, jaebum has someone to talk to. someone to share his moments with even if seulgi isn't that responsive.
but... why does that make him sound lonely? is seulgi just someone jaebum can channel his emotions to?
"towards your wedding day, do you remember?" jinyoung speaks again. "you were always on the edge."
the memories unfold like a crumpled piece of paper. jaebum hadn't realize his inability to recall anything leading up to the wedding and the accident. he remembers the good days spent in the past. he remembers his school days, from elementary all the way to college. he can recall his friends' faces and names. he knows everything but not the weeks before the wedding.
the next memory he has is waking at night (or early morning, he doesn't know), with blood trickling down his forehead, laying fully clothed on the side of a deserted road. not even a car was in sight, no belongings were found on him. he couldn't recall anything then, but neither was he lost nor scared. heck, he was oddly calm at that moment. out of pity, the cashier at the nearest convenience store bought him bandages, a bottle of drink and a cup of ramen. thereafter, jaebum spent the rest of his days aimlessly until he chanced upon the cat cafe and was given a proper shelter.
but now, with jinyoung slowly unraveling the truth, the missing pieces of the puzzle is retrieved too.
"you were so anxious," jinyoung continues. "you worried a lot. you kept wondering if you were making the right decision. there's no denying that you love seulgi, but you were no longer sure if you could be truly happy with her. you told me you no longer felt connected to her. you said you felt distant from her as time went by. you proposed to her only because it was the next logical step."
"but you went missing and--" jinyoung pauses. "when i found you at the cat cafe, it looked as if you were a completely different person! the way you and jaein looked at each other... you were so love-struck. yeah, perhaps you were happy with seulgi. but honestly, you looked much happier with jaein."
"but i hurt her," jaebum admits. "i hurt her so bad. will she ever forgive me--"
"i extended the invitation to her in hopes you'd actually talk it out with her," jinyoung interjects. "but instead, you had dinner with seulgi."
jaebum breathes heavily through his nose. he didn't want to have a dinner with seulgi in the first place. he wanted to stay longer with jaein. he wanted to spend more time with her. but the universe doesn't seem to agree with his plans. seulgi just had to pop up at the last minute. she just had to disrupt the flow. god, how much jaebum wished seulgi never showed up that day,
"look," his friend starts again. "i'm not gonna tell you what to do. but i want you to weigh your options. who do you truly wish to spend the rest of your life with?"
their eyes meet, and jinyoung has this leveled gaze. it's as if he's calculating something in his mind. jaebum swears he could hear the shifting of gears in his friend's mind. he leans back, arms crossed atop of his chest, a smirk on his face.
"but i think the answer is obvious since you keep a portrait of a certain someone in your room."
jaebum only keeps mum.
---
early november 2019.
impulsively, jaebum visits the cat cafe. but in his defence, he was in the area. he had an outdoor photoshoot that is located in ilsan. so he didn't think it would hurt anybody with a surprise visit. the twins are no doubt, in total shock. but youngjae is furious. his face is so red, gaze ablaze when his eyes meet jaebum's. if looks could kill, jaebum would have been murdered in the most brutal way possible. he almost lunged at jaebum, if not for jaein holding him back.
"i'm sorry," jaebum utters, voice shaky. "i was wrong. i... i'm truly sorry."
"an apology won't fix anything, you jerk!" youngjae screams. "how dare you step into this place! how dare you come back!"
"youngjae, please--" jaein tries to placate her brother, placing a hand on his chest. that seems to do the trick for the man glances at his sister, exchanging a look. jaebum can never understand their communication through eyes. these twins, jaebum thinks, they're telepathic.
then youngjae glares at jaebum. he points a finger at him, warning, "i would have punched you if not for my sister. you hurt her again, i'll make you pay." he storms off, but doesn't move far. it's just enough to give privacy for the remaining two to talk.
jaein gestures jaebum to sit at the table. she makes two mugs of hot tea, placing one in front of jaebum. then she takes the opposite seat to jaebum.
"youngjae was mad when i went to your exhibition," jaein says, voice hushed like a whisper. she looks over her shoulder, glancing at her brother who has busied himself with grooming the cats. but jaebum knows he's keeping a close eye on him. it's understandable, jaebum says to himself. he hurt his sister so bad, of course youngjae would be protective of her.
"then why did you?" jaebum asks, quiet.
jaein stares at the table, fingers wrapped around her mug. "i guess i just wanted to see how you were doing. your exhibition was packed so it gave me assurance that you're doing really well. and that i needn't worry anymore. but i didn't expect to bump into you."
"thank you for coming down. i truly appreciate it."
"anyway, what brings you here?" jaein asks a moment later, leaning back with her arms crossed.
"i don't know..." jaebum weakly answers.
jaein has a small frown on her face. she must be confused with his answer. he came here on impulse. no purpose at all. besides, he was made clear that he's not welcomed anymore.
"how's seulgi?"
hearing that name already has him feeling... void? he doesn't even know how to describe it. perhaps seulgi was once the apple of jaebum's eye. but now, jaebum wonders if he even feels anything for her.
"she's fine... i think," jaebum answers. he doesn't know why he says the next sentence, but he just feels the need to inform jaein. "we're not really... together now. things haven't been working out so well."
his thoughts start to flow slowly, words pouring out his mouth like a viscous liquid. it comes out almost naturally, even jaebum himself is surprised at the honesty he's expressing. "i just... i just don't know myself anymore," he starts. "even with all these memories, i don't remember myself. i can't seem to find myself anymore. i feel lost."
jaein hums, listening attentively. "maybe... you should approach in a different way?" she suggests. "i mean-- you've been engrossed in piecing your memories together. but what about your heart? what does your heart say?"
"my heart," jaebum echoes. he ponders. what has his heart been saying? what has his heart been feeling? he's aware that his heart has changed. he's not really into seulgi anymore. he has noticed that his heart has been yearning for someone else instead. but his mind has always come up with its own reasons to counter his heart's whispers.
"my heart is at war with my mind," he answers. jaebum has his eyes locked on jaein's. she waits patiently for his elaboration. "my heart wants what it can't have."
jaein's eyes are relentless as she presses, "and what exactly does your heart wants?"
jaebum doesn't look away as he exhales, "you."
he sees how her expression changes. jaw taut, eyebrows furrowed. perhaps it's a hint of anger, he doesn't know. jaein is the first to break the eye contact. then she scoffs. "why? why now?"
"were you not happy with seulgi?" she spits. "just a year ago, you looked so in love with her. why the change in heart?"
jaebum winces at the sharpness of her voice. her eyes are blazing now.
"you seemed so sure with her during the return party. god, you didn't even bother to tell me about her!" she raises her voice.
jaebum's voice comes out small when he speaks, "i was scared... i couldn't understand my feelings at that point. the moment i saw seulgi, everything -- every single memory -- came back! it felt natural to be with seulgi again. but at the same time, i-- i kept thinking about you. so i was just scared... that things wouldn't work out well. i wanted to wait to make sure about everything--"
jaein lets out a bitter laugh. "you make it sound as if i'm a safety net for you. that if seulgi did not take you back, you'd come to me."
jaebum leans forward, a sense of urgency washing over him. "no, that's not it! i don't think of you that way-"
"did you even hear yourself?" she cuts. "you left me hanging while you were busy enjoying your time with someone else! you threw me aside like i was nothing! and now what? you want me back?"
"i--"
"it's time for you to leave," youngjae's voice cuts in. jaebum didn't even notice him approaching.
the heated atmosphere has simmered a little though it got jaebum catching his breath. jaein is breathing heavily too, face red with anger. but jaebum supposes he deserves it. it's a battle he was bound to lose from the start. his shoulders slump in defeat. jaebum takes youngjae's hint, standing up.
apologetic, he says, "i'm sorry. it's wrong of me to want you back as if nothing happened. i won't-- i won't disturb you again."
it breaks his heart when he utters those words, but it's for the best. it's what he deserves anyway.
---
late december 2019.
jaebum tries to block out every single thought of jaein. he drowns himself into work, doesn't let himself rest too long. he's always on his feet, moving from places to places, doing projects after projects. even when he doesn't have any photoshoots, he's always editing the shots. so imagine his surprise when jaein shows up at his studio on a weekend, looking ever so pretty. he almost thinks it's another hallucination but when she comes close enough that he can smell her perfume, he knows she's real.
"can we talk?" jaein asks, uncertain. she glances at jaebum's computer screen.
the man just nods, saving his work before leading her to a small meeting room, the place messy with project drafts. jaebum offers a hot beverage but jaein refuses.
"i just want to apologize," she begins slowly, "for how i acted during our last conversation."
jaebum opens his mouth to disagree. that she has every right to get angry at him. that he deserves it. but jaein doesn't give him a chance to speak, reasoning, "i don't think it was the best way to handle it. so that's why i'm here."
she pauses for a while, then says, "i want you to know that i've forgiven you."
jaebum looks at her, head empty, confused. her lips curl into a small smile, more sad. she continues, "you hurt me but i was harsh too. it took me some time, but... i decided to forgive you and let it all go."
"thank you," jaebum utters, nodding. but his mind clinging onto the last part of her speech. jaein probably just wants to close this chapter and start a new one. perhaps with someone else, he doesn't know. doesn't ask. and perhaps he's too cowardly to find out the truth.
"jaebum," jaein calls out. and the man flinches. it's as if he was doused in a bucket full of ice cold water. it reminds of the dreams he kept having, in which jaein only ever says his name, nothing more.
"i keep dreaming about you," he confesses.
jaein's face hardens, cautious. "and what was i doing in your dreams?" her voice is like a whisper.
"just calling my name," he answers, eyes flicking at jaein's face, meeting her eyes. he hears his heart beating in his ears. a loud thrumming. he smiles painfully, mind echoing the way she calls his name. "you haven't-- you haven't said my name in a long time."
silence hangs in the air. there's tension and it's a little too heavy on jaebum's chest. it pins him down to his seat, and it immobilizes him. he wonders if jaein feels it too. she rises from her seat, moves towards him. he expects her to just walk out the room, to leave him alone again. but she doesn't. she stands behind him, bends forward, arms wrapping around his chest, cheek pressed against his temple. jaebum doesn't relax into the embrace no matter how much he wants to. because if this is temporary, he doesn't want to get too attached to it.
"jaebum," she whispers his name.
he stares into space, mind blank. now he thinks he has gone mad. he laughs to himself like a maniac.
"i must be dreaming..." he says to himself, the heels of his hands rubbing over his eyes. but the action spurs tears to fall. jaein must have realized this for she reaches for his face, wiping away the liquid with her thumb. jaebum feels the warmth from her hand seeping through his skin. the smell of her perfume stronger.
"i'm sorry, jaebum," she utters softly, her voice sad.
the male lunges forward, arms winding around her waist, face buried into her stomach. jaebum sobs, "don't go. please don't go. please don't leave me alone. stay. stay with me. don't leave me alone. don't go."
he feels her hands on his shoulders, lightly pressing onto the area. jaebum only tightens, not wanting to part. but she's insistent, pushing at his shoulders a little more strongly now. so jaebum obeys. he loosens his hold, but his fingers curl into the back of her shirt.
jaein slides a hand up, resting against his neck, only her thumb touching his jaw. she brushes the skin there, and jaebum sees her soft smile, eyes equally moist. then she bends down, the angle a little too awkward for her but she doesn't bother. jaebum feels her lips press onto his forehead, soft and warm. even when she pulls away, her hands stay put on his body, and the kiss feels like an imprint on his skin.
"i'm not going anywhere," she says, hushed.
then she steps back, letting him go. she's almost at the door when jaebum stands on his feet, in a mild state of panic.
"can i... can i see you again?" he asks, voice shaky.
jaein shoots him a smile. sincere. "you know where to find me."
---
late february 2020.
moving apartments has never been an easy task. jaebum gets sentimental easily, he realizes. he can't even throw away his first camera even though it has been spoilt for years. he keeps it in a box, hidden away in his home and long forgotten. yet he can't bear to throw it away. or anything at all. so it's no surprise that he has way too many things to shift into the new apartment.
jinyoung has kindly offered to help. his friend has been nothing but the best pillar of support for the past year or so: always lending a listening ear or a shoulder to lean on. he understands the reason for jaebum's decision to move out.
when he reaches the new place, it's much cheaper and smaller than his previous apartment. but jaebum reckons he will find it a better place to live in. it takes a few days before he fully settled in. and it takes a few more before he finally bumps into the person he yearns to be close to. just a few blocks away from his new house.
"hi," he greets.
"jaebum," she breathes. then belatedly, "hi."
"how have you been?"
"fine," jaein answers, smiling. "everything's been fine. you? did you have a shoot around here?"
"no, actually i... i moved here about a month ago," he informs. jaein has her brows raised high, surprised. either she's surprised that he moved or that she didn't chance upon him earlier. if it's the latter, jaebum made sure they wouldn't cross paths before he was ready. he wanted a clean start, a fresh page to write.
jaebum offers a small smile. "i finally found the answers i sought," he explains. "and i followed my heart. it led me to this place. to you."
"but... what about seulgi? and your studio?"
"i broke it off with seulgi. i told her the truth. it didn't feel right anymore," jaebum answers. "i don't want to stay in the studio anymore. i'm doing outdoor photography now."
jaein nods, seemingly relieved that jaebum has figured things out. but a few seconds later, he notices her cheeks turn a little rosy. she murmurs, "so... you're not seeing anyone now?"
"no... are you?" he swallows his spit. "seeing anyone?"
"no..." she says quietly, shaking her head.
now it's jaebum's cheeks that feel warm. "then... would you like to have dinner? with me? like a date? unless you're uncomfortable with that--"
jaein smiles, chuckling. "that would be splendid."
---
mid october 2020.
it's one of the rare weekends that jaebum has the luxury of sleeping in. work has been tough. he traveled to too many places for various projects, the deadlines close to one another. jaebum's personal time has been reduced to the bare minimum. so little rest, jaebum thinks he can burst any moment. but the best thing now is that he has someone next to him. someone to come home to.
still cozily wrapped in his blanket, the quiet morning could have never been anymore peaceful. but the other side of the bed is cold, empty so jaebum chooses to get out of bed.
he sees his beloved in the kitchen, busily making what seems like a pancake. jaebum pads his way over to her, snaking his arms around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder, cheek pressing against hers.
"morning," she greets, a smile in her voice even though jaebum couldn't see.
"pancakes?" he mumbles.
she nods. "i was planning to make you breakfast in bed. but now you're here."
"it's because you weren't in bed when i woke up. so i had to get out of bed."
"yeah, yeah. let's eat."
she brings the plates to the dining table but jaebum leads her to their room instead. they settle on the bed, comfortable, and dine. when they are finished, jaein moves to dump the plates in the kitchen sink but jaebum snatches them away and sets it aside on the side table. he gets under the covers and opens his arms, inviting jaein in. she doesn't refuse. she snuggles close, her head placed on his chest, a hand on his upper stomach. jaebum keeps a hand stroking her head, the other hand fiddling with hers.
it's slow and lazy, and they bask in the peaceful morning.
"you know," jaebum breaks the silence, voice almost like a whisper. "i always thought a home has to be a place. but i know better now."
jaebum looks down when jaein shifts. she's looking at him, eyes beautiful. "what do you mean?"
he smiles at her, then he takes her hand in his, brings it up to his lips. he kisses the fingertips slow. she giggles.
"you gave me shelter when i was lost," he says. "you loved me when i was a nobody. you forgave my mistakes. you accepted me with all my flaws. so thank you. thank you for waiting for me. for loving me."
she drags herself up, hands sliding up to his shoulders. she smiles sweetly.
"welcome home," jaein utters.
then she leans down, plants a kiss on his lips. it leaves jaebum chasing after it. so he adjusts themselves, pushes her down to lay on her back as he looms over her, cupping her face. jaein brings her hands to his wrists, and the sunlight that seeps through the curtains makes the silver band around their fingers gleam.
jaebum leans down, close enough that they're breathing into each other, his lips ghosting against hers. he whispers, "you're my home."
then he closes the gap.
#got7#got7 jaebum#got7 im jaebum#got7 scenarios#got7 jaebum scenarios#got7 im jaebum scenarios#jaebum#im jaebum#im jaebum scenarios#jaebum scenarios
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