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taexual · 3 years

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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (21)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst but it’s for a good cause

words: 7.7k

chapter twenty-one

The next week was, as expected, full of frustrating epiphanies each time you checked your phone and realized you had no business waiting for anyone’s call or text. Not to mention, Inna’s hopeful eyes followed you whenever you were in the same room as her; she was eagerly awaiting the moment you and Jungkook would make up.

You hadn’t heard a word from him since the last party and his family hadn’t reached out to you, either. You couldn’t help but wonder how the dinner on Sunday had gone, and what excuse Jungkook used to explain your absence – he’d have to come up with a good one because you didn’t think the chances of you two talking again were very high.

In fact, you thought they were non-existent. He’d walked away from you for the second time in just one lifetime – you didn’t think it was supposed to be you who had to take the initiative and get to the bottom of things. And Jungkook would, most likely, have too much pride to offer an explanation.

So, no, you didn’t think you’d hear from him again soon. Not in the next seven years, at least.

However, life had a funny way of throwing your expectations out of the window – as you came to learn as soon as you left your final class the next Wednesday afternoon, five days after you’d last seen Jungkook, and spotted his mother looking at you expectantly from the end of the hall.

She waved at you as soon as you caught her eye and, walking over to her, you weren’t sure what to expect – her face was the perfect mask of polite indifference, so you couldn’t guess if she was here because something terrible had happened to Jungkook, or because she was getting remarried and wanted you to be her bridesmaid.

“You look lovely, dear,” was the first thing she told you when you approached her. That was enough for you to understand that she wasn’t going to be entirely honest today – she never was – because she was here in a designer two-piece, while you were wearing a—stained from an unsuccessful attempt at lunch—gray hoodie and your favorite sweatpants. “Do you have a moment to spare?”

“Sure,” you nodded after giving her a mandatory hug hello. “Would you like to get coffee? There’s a café across the quad.”

“Oh, of course,” she nodded, allowing you to exit the building first. “I’d love that.”

The two of you crossed the campus quadrangle towards the café next to the library and neither of you said a word. You’d hoped Jungkook’s mother would offer an explanation why she was here instead of making you ask her outright – that felt impolite – but that seemed less and less likely with each silent step that you took.

“You can choose a table, I’ll go place the order,” you said once you’d reached the café, “what would you like?”

“Just black coffee, no sugar, please,” she replied and then looked around the place, smiling pleasantly at every weary-eyed student that turned to look when they saw this lady with a very expensive aura come inside. “I think it’d be nice to sit by the window, hmm?”

You gave her a nod of approval and went over to order, choosing to wait by the coffee machine so you could brace yourself for what was coming when you’d join her at your table later.

Once you finally sat down opposite Jungkook’s mother, your caramel macchiato had turned from pale orange to plain white from how much your hands were shaking. His mother thanked you and, leaning forward to purposelessly stir her coffee with a spoon, she cleared her throat.

“Something happened,” she said simply. “Am I wrong?”

You didn’t want to misunderstand her. “What do you mean?”

“Between you and Jungkook,” she clarified. “He said you were busy when he was over for dinner but I could tell that wasn’t it. He looked different.”

You looked away from her to think. You were glad that Jungkook hadn’t missed the dinner even despite you not being there with him. That was a mature decision, you were almost proud of him for it.

“I… I don’t really know what to tell you, to be honest,” you said, watching your coffee and wondering why you even bought it. You didn’t feel like drinking anything. “We got into an argument after his concert last weekend, and we hadn’t talked since.”

She nodded knowingly, without the slightest change in her expression. As if this was a normal thing that she’d expected to happen sooner or later anyway. And, because she was prepared for it, she also knew just how to proceed.

“I’m not supposed to pick sides because, I suppose, I would be biased,” she started to say, giving you a warm smile as she clutched her cup in both hands, “but I have a feeling that you weren’t the one that started the argument. Am I right?”

Inhaling deeply as you shrugged your shoulders, you replied with, “actually, that’s hard to say,” and then you took a long gulp of your coffee, ignoring the burning of your throat as the hot – and unwanted – liquid struggled to make its way down.

Jungkook’s mother watched you drink in silence. She knew you were doing it only because you weren’t comfortable admitting to her that her son had never learned how to handle conflict – and who else was there to blame for that, if not his parents?

Sighing, she finally confessed, “I told myself I wouldn’t mention this to either of you because, well, it’s really none of my business, but I was backstage before Jungkook’s last concert.”

You turned to her. Noticing the confusion in your eyes, she explained, “his father and I came back to the venue early and I had to use the restroom. One of his bandmates showed me where to find the nearest one and, as I was on my way, I saw the two of you.”

Thinking what moment in particular she could have seen, you unconsciously squeezed the porcelain cup in your hands so tightly, the china almost started to crack under your fingertips. Even worse, as soon as you realized what she was getting at, you let go of the cup so quickly, it nearly tumbled off the table, splashing the contents around.

“Oh,” you said, more alarmed by the fact that his mother had seen you force him into a cold shower, than by the fact that your sweatpants were now stained with the caramel from your drink. “I was just—”

“You kicked some sense into him,” she finished for you, nonchalantly handing you a napkin, “in a way that I’d never seen anyone do before. And,” she chuckled in a good-natured way that did not conceal the admiration in her voice, “I’m his mother.”

“That’s…” you stopped yourself, choosing to wait until the warmth on your face receded and you felt less flustered. “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you said, still not looking at her as you wiped the table, “kids aren’t easy to raise and Jungkook was a-a... a different sort of challenge. You did your best and he loves you for it.”

She was the one who was forced to look away from you this time.

“I thought I was doing my best,” she said. “I… I know it can be hard to understand, but I’d always had his best interest at heart. His and yours. You two were like two pieces of the same set when you were young.”

She smiled despite herself, but when you dared to lift your eyes to meet hers, there was a tear glistening on her face, slowly descending down her cheek. You didn’t know if it was caused by the memory or by something else that she hadn’t said yet.

“It’s…” she tried but couldn’t find the words, “I feel—ah. I don’t know how to tell you this without making you hate me. It’s my fault that you and Jungkook were apart from each other for so long.”

She struggled to keep talking and you struggled to find a way to tell her that you already knew that.

Admittedly, it wouldn’t have been hard to reach out a hand and touch her shoulder, tell her that Jungkook had already told you about this. But, by doing so, you’d have to admit that everything was fine. That you didn’t hold a grudge. That you’d moved on.

And part of it was true – you didn’t hold a grudge. But it wasn’t fine. And you hadn’t moved on.

So, you stayed quiet, letting her continue.

“I thought it was for the best,” she said, “you two, being apart, I mean. I thought it could save you both from the damage your close relationship could do to your futures. But,” shaking her head to herself, she scoffed, “that wasn’t what happened at all, was it?”

“Hmm,” you shook your head slightly, “no, it wasn’t. There was always this gap—t-this empty space in my life. It was kind of like losing a tooth. You can get it replaced, get an implant, but it’s not the same. Even if the hole isn’t there anymore, you’re still missing a tooth.”

Another tear cascaded down her face as she listened to you, only daring to nod her head when you glanced at her – which was once, right before you finished speaking.

She noticed how you didn’t question her or asked her to elaborate; you understood what she was saying.

And she understood that you had already known about this.

“You blossomed,” she said, smiling even though there were tears in her eyes, “but Jungkook never recovered. He needed you. Probably more than you needed him.”

“No. That can’t be,” you disagreed instantly. “I—I need him, too.”

Noticing the present tense, Jungkook’s mother smiled. “Then don’t be apart from each other anymore. You’re not meant to be.”

That was simple. So simple, that it got you to smile in this ironically sad way. But because this could have been one of the last times you’d ever see her – since your future with Jungkook, despite how much you said you needed him, was very unclear – you chose not to mention it.

Instead, you figured now was as good of a time as any to come clean about the real status of your relationship with her son.

“You know…” you started, “when we first came to your house, we weren’t—we weren’t really together. We were just—”

“I know,” she said and, just when you were about to continue, she finished, “that you think so.”

“I—sorry?”

“You think you came for dinner, pretending to be dating so it would leave a good impression on his father,” she explained.

It felt ridiculous to hear her say it when she wasn’t supposed to know about it. Apparently, both of you knew a lot more than you let on.

“T-that’s… yeah. That’s what we did.”

She shook her head. “No, it isn’t. Not really. You came for dinner together.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Sweetheart, no,” she took your hand into hers. “You’d been together from the moment you first talked to each other after all those years. And, every day following that, you were more and more together.”

Feeling the warmth from her hands wash off to yours, you asked in a hushed tone, “why do you say that?”

“Because I’d watched you grow up,” she said, a smile on her otherwise clouded face. “I know you love each other in a different way than most people. You don’t have to go on dates and get to know each other before you get attached and form a connection. You don’t have to spend months with each other to fall in love. It’s already happened. Maybe it happened even before you were born. Maybe it was written in the stars, so to speak.”

She laughed as she said that last part and—because you’d been watching her with such intensity, you didn’t blink once—you felt yourself smile in response.

Then, you asked, “do you really believe that?”

“Ah,” she leaned back in her chair, exhaling. She did seem like the sort of person who believed in the happily-ever-after and she didn’t mind this image. But, because this was nor the place, nor the time for acting, she chose to be honest with you and admitted, “normally, no. But with you two? Yes. Absolutely.”

And that meant a lot more than anything else she’d ever told you when she was busy trying to maintain the look of an untroubled, completely satisfied member of a rich family.

She was human now. And she was rooting for you – she’d always been, even if she didn’t always choose the best ways to express that.

“Do you know what he did during our last dinner?” his mother asked after a moment.

Thinking she was about to tell you that Jungkook knocked his father out, you were afraid for her to continue.

“He renounced his position as the heir to the company,” she said and you saw her tears stop, a smile spreading on her lips instead – like she was proud of him. “I’ve never seen him so determined before. I don’t think his father has, either. I… I think he’s been expecting it, though. Jungkook never expressed much interest in the family business, not unless it meant pleasing his father.”

You were shocked she’d noticed Jungkook’s eagerness to be a good son to his father, but perhaps you shouldn’t have been – she was his mother. She knew him best.

Funnily enough, she thought the exact same thing about you.

“He wants to talk to you,” she said after a while, her hand still holding yours as steam ceased to rise from your cups, the drinks inside of them gradually growing colder.

“Did he tell you that?” you asked, surprised.

“No, but that’s obvious. He’s been antsy throughout our dinner on Sunday,” she spoke, “almost like that gap you’d mentioned before was especially prominent when he was supposed to be with his family, but one member just wasn’t there.”

You felt a quick spark of honor in your chest – they still considered you to be a part of their family – but you lowered your eyes, hoping to hide it.

“What bothers me the most,” you admitted slowly, “is that his method of solving arguments is so unconventional, I can never guess what he’s going to do.”

“What do you want him to do?”

“I want him to—I…” you couldn’t finish.

You didn’t want much, you just wanted to be able to admit to yourself that every time you’d been angry at him since last Friday night, was all pretend. All because you were supposed to be angry. But, the truth was, you weren’t; you were just hurt. And what you wanted most of all was to see him.

“I want to talk to him,” you said. “Because if he’s thinking of spending another seven years not talking to me, then he better give me a direct warning, so that I can tell him I won’t do this again. I won’t go through—if he doesn’t want to be with me, I’m not going to wait for almost a decade for him to change his mind.”

“That was never the case,” his mother said. “He always wanted to be with you even when he wasn’t supposed to.”

“See, but he keeps making these decisions,” you said, “these wrong decisions. He seems like he’s learned to tell right from wrong in all of these years, and yet he still—”

“He’s trying, though, isn’t he?” she interrupted you. “He fails a lot, but he always gets back up and tries again. I love him with all of my heart, but I hated to see some of the situations he’s gotten himself into over the years. He’d had to make a lot of choices for his future and he made a lot of wrong ones. I used to think that, maybe, the only right decision he’d made, was choosing to give you some space to grow seven years ago—”

“No,” you stated immediately, your voice firm and unwavering for the first time today. “The only right decision he made was talking to me again after seven years.”

His mother’s eyes watched the expression on your face change from hopeless defeat to assured confidence, and she finally let go of your hand, but not before you saw the hairs on her skin stand up as she shivered.

“You’re right,” she spoke, her voice in awe over how quickly you defended Jungkook even though, at the end of the day, you and her both knew you needed that space. You needed some time away from him.

She had come here with the intention of getting you to give her son another chance – because, God knew, Jungkook was taking his sweet time asking for it himself – but she could see now that her visit was largely pointless.

She didn’t need to ask you to fight for your relationship with Jungkook – you’d been fighting for it from day one.

“Talk to him, okay?” she asked, even though she knew this wasn’t going to be the end of your story. It couldn’t be. “As his mother, I even give you the permission to kick his ass if he won’t reach out to you first.”

You snickered at this and then looked at her as you spoke, “I’ve really missed having conversations like these with you. Not about Jungkook—I meant, over coffee, when it’s just us two.”

“I’ve missed that, too,” she replied, responding to your warm words by allowing an uncharacteristically big smile to appear on her face, “but we’ll have plenty of those in the future,” she added, “because we just got you back and we’re not letting you go.”

The next day, you were almost afraid to run into Jungkook because a conversation with him seemed inevitable, and you didn’t think you were ready for it.

The universe – that is, your class schedule – cared little whether you were prepared or not, however.

As soon as you were done with your last class of the day, you cautiously turned your head to Jungkook’s usual spot—across the auditorium from you—and found him already watching you.

The two of you eyed each other in an almost formal way – the way you would look at your professor as you approached her to inquire about a paper that was due – and then you both got up, packed your things, and, exchanging a yet another meaningful look, you both headed for the exit of the building, every single movement of your bodies completely in sync even though you hadn’t spoken a word to each other.

There was a mute agreement between you and him: you haven’t seen each other since the party last week, but now that you have, you simply had to talk again. Those were the rules for people like you – people who’d spent nearly a decade avoiding all conversation with each other, and had promised they would never go through that again.

You figured the first thing you’d say to each other after last week would be “sorry” but, as it turned out, your first words were your coffee orders as the two of you had automatically left the building to head to the campus café.

“I know my mom came to see you,” Jungkook broke the uncomfortable silence when you found an empty table at the back of the café. “Sorry if… she made you uncomfortable. I didn’t ask her to come, I swear.”

He didn’t start to speak because he had a lot to say. He started because, even though you came here with him naturally, without a single word, he knew you hadn’t come here just for a cup of coffee. You’d come to hear his explanation, his excuse, and, eventually and most importantly, his apology.

“I know,” you said even though you didn’t. It made sense for Jungkook not to ask for anyone’s help, though. “It’s okay.”

“But I’m glad she came,” he revealed, “because now I have an excuse to tell you that I, uh… I fucked up.”

Resisting a relieved sigh – because you’d been worried that resolving this argument would require the sort of maturity that neither of you had, but Jungkook was surprisingly determined to solve it the same way you solved all of your fights: by turning half of it into a joke – you sat opposite him and shrugged.

“Not the first time,” you said.

Scoffing, Jungkook agreed, “yeah. Definitely not. But I, uh… you haven’t done anything wrong. I was pissed at—I was pissed off and I let my frustrations out on you. And that’s not fair.”

You nodded, agreeing with the way he’d interpreted your last conversation.

“Well,” you said then, “that’s probably not the first time, either.”

He raised an eyebrow at your comment, a flash of concern appearing in his eyes before he clicked his tongue and said under his breath, “alright, open and honest. That’s good. I deserve that.”

You didn’t reply this time. You didn’t encourage him to keep going, either, but he took your silence as a sign that he’d obviously not said enough to make up for his words that night.

“I was wrong,” Jungkook said and paused. He couldn’t believe he’d spent every night the past week, trying to think of a way to say this to you, when it was literally all so simple. “I asked you to leave because I genuinely believed you’d be better without me, but I—I’ve never felt more afraid than when I saw you turn around and walk away. I thought it’d be for the best, but the thought of never seeing you again was terrifying. That sounds selfish now that I’ve said it, but I’m not saying it because I’m scared to lose you, even though I am. I’m saying this because I’m sorry.”

You’d forgotten how to blink as you watched him, and you thought you’d misheard him when he apologized. That was something that was understandable – a person did something they regretted, and they apologized for it – but Jungkook was never one who behaved in conventional ways.

And yet, he continued, “I’ve been caged my whole life, always blamed for the things I did that did not fit the person that I was supposed to be.”

Contrary to the conversation with Jungkook’s mother that you’ve had in this exact same spot, now you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes off of him as he spoke. Jungkook, meanwhile, scratched his temple with a nervous finger and proceeded to count the wooden tiles on the floor.

“But you’re not like them,” he was saying, not specifying who ‘they’ were because he didn’t have to, “no one’s ever given me the sort of freedom that you did. You’re the only one that allowed me to think about what I wanted. You’re the one who told me to act on it. As long as I didn’t self-destruct along the way, of course.”

He tried to lighten the mood, smiling as he said that last part, but your face remained stoic and, for a moment, Jungkook worried you hadn’t heard him. Or, worse – you had heard him, but he wasn’t saying the right things.

In all truth, that was precisely the case – you thought he was giving you too much credit. He’d blamed you for taking control of his life that night at the bar, and now he was thanking you for it.

You didn’t think you deserved the blame or the gratitude: you never wanted him to do whatever you commanded him to do. You just wanted him to stop making decisions that would lead him to an early grave.

“You…” he continued, more tentative now, “you’ve put up with me for so long and I was overwhelmed by the fact that there’s no one like you in my life. So, I guess, for a moment, you didn’t feel real to me, either, because how could you be? A-and so, I ended up blaming you for the things that I should have never blamed you for.”

You nodded, acknowledging it all, even the sleepless nights that he hadn’t told you about – he didn’t have to; the dark circles under his eyes said more than enough. You’d recognized them with ease because you’d seen them in your own mirror every morning this week.

And then you spoke, returning to the one point of your last argument that he hadn’t brought up.

The one point that may have angered you more than anything else he’d said that night.

“I didn’t agree to help you with your parents because of the company,” you said.

“I know,” he said.

Jungkook seemed to remember almost every part of that night – although, blissfully, he’d forgotten what he’d done after you’d left; there were bruises on his knuckles and his face to show for it, though – and you couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.

If he didn’t remember what happened, that could have been a sign that he was wasted out of his mind and that was why he’d said what he’d said. But that was a very poor excuse, considering that a drunken tongue often voiced out sober thoughts.

At least now you didn’t have to remind him of his own words – that would have made this conversation far less calm. But, at the same time, the fact that he could remember arguing with you, meant that he was sober enough to get himself in control back there. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d allowed his instincts to take the wheel: he’d won against the alcohol, but lost against his own impulses.

Taking a deep breath, you thought now was your only chance to explain your reasons for being with him because you weren’t sure how this coffee date was going to play out just yet. And if this was the last time you’d see him, he deserved to know the whole truth.

“I agreed to help you,” you said, “because you asked me to.”

Nodding before you properly finished, he said, “I know—”

“But also,” you cut him off, your voice growing louder and then falling into an almost hushed tone as you said, “because I couldn’t say no to you. Not when you were desperate to get me to say yes. I—I had been in love with you for a lot longer than—than either of us realized, probably. And, maybe, I’d also wanted to know what it’d be like to be with you.”

Admitting that you wanted to play a relationship with him felt childish, and you couldn’t lift your eyes to meet his. But, even so, it also felt relieving.

You’d said it.

You’d admitted it to yourself and to him. You’d chosen to strip down to your vulnerability, and that was difficult and bold, but it also freed you from being the only person in the world who knew this.

“And,” Jungkook exhaled shakily, “what was it like?”

You felt your lips curl into a hesitant half-smile. “Not too terrible, surprisingly.”

He laughed with his whole chest and you found yourself leaning back a little, so you could take in the sight in front of you.

A beat passed as Jungkook recovered, a small smile still on his face. Then, you dared to speak again.

“I’m sorry I always tried to take care of you,” you spoke, each word calculated. You had already thought about telling him this, so you knew you chose your words right; you just weren’t sure what sort of reception awaited you.

Jungkook gave you a long look, his eyes accepting your apology while, simultaneously, trying to tell you that it wasn’t necessary.

“I’m sorry I always asked you to,” he countered, “and then demanded that you don’t.”

You smiled. “I’m sorry I’m starting to think you need to see a therapist.”

“Yeah,” he snickered, nodding, “don’t be sorry about that one. I…” he lowered his eyes before saying, “I’m sorry I accused you of controlling me when I’m the one who never lets you make your own decisions.”

Your eyebrows did a little dance, rising in surprise at first – because he’d said something you weren’t expecting – and then lowering into a frown – after you’d digested his words and came to the conclusion that you didn’t like the way they tasted.

“No, that’s—I can stand up for myself if I have to,” you said, defending both, yourself, and him, too.

“You can,” he didn’t disagree, sighing, “really well, too. No matter how much I try to stand in your way,” he paused for a minute. Then, he said, “I can’t. Stand up for myself, I mean. I think I can, but unless I’m hitting someone in the face, I—but I’m trying. Only, I’m not doing a very good job at it, clearly.”

He stopped talking even though he’d inhaled as if he had something else left to say. You watched him, waiting and slowly realizing that he had either forgotten what he was about to say, or he thought there was no point to say it.

Neither was the case. He just needed some time to gather the words.

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, “I need you. A lot. And I’m sorry about that, too. I’m sorry I rely on you so much.”

You looked away, shaking your head, “you don’t.”

“No, I do,” he disagreed. “I always go back to you. I need you in my life and then I push you away, I’m—”

“That’s what I mean,” you cut him off, your voice more frantic than before. “You don’t rely on me. You want to, but you’re holding yourself back. I’m here for you. I was always here for you.”

The sound of his rapid heartbeat deafened him for a moment and he wasn’t sure if he really spoke, or if he just thought about it, as he tried to ask, “even though I don’t deserve it?”

“You—well, sometimes, you really don’t,” you admitted, not sugarcoating it because the expression on his face needed you to be truthful. “But, at the same time, I couldn’t think of any other person who would need someone to rely on more than you do.”

Now the beating of his heart wasn’t just deafening – it was painful, too, each beat like a sharp stab that did not merely scratch the surface of every organ inside of him, but seemed to suck all oxygen out of his lungs, too.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, “and I know it would be better for me to leave. But I—well, I can’t. I… I think that maybe—uh, maybe I picked that fight with you at the bar just so you’d walk away from me.”

His hypothetical reasoning hurt almost as much as actually walking away from him did.

“What makes you think I can walk away from you?” you asked, sounding brave but only because you hid your face behind your coffee cup as you took a sip.

“You know you can,” he replied.

Lowering the cup, you phrased yourself differently, “what makes you think I would want to?”

His blood pulsed with a desperate need to hear you say that again – a dozen more times, at least – but Jungkook tried, for once, to remain rational.

He’d gone too far that night at the bar, but it gave him the opportunity to get the closure you didn’t get when you talked to him that night in your bedroom, moving past the Seven Year Silence as if it didn’t matter anymore. As if you didn’t need to talk about that ever again, even though the lost years lingered behind you like a forgotten tail that you kept tripping over each time you took your relationship a step further.

“I’m bad,” Jungkook spoke. “I’m bad for you.”

He’d said it – and that was it. He’d stepped on the tail. Purposefully this time, with scissors in hand. Only he didn’t yet know what he’d end up cutting – the past that he couldn’t seem to move on from, or himself, out of your life.

“You’re—you’re annoying as shit. Impossible sometimes, even,” you said, remembering how irritated he’d made you feel at times. And how little it mattered, at the end of the day. “But you’re not bad for me. You’re not bad, period.”

Jungkook exhaled and opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue with you further, but didn’t know how.

In the end, he didn’t think he deserved you because he thought he was too far gone, but, as you watched him, you knew that that was exactly the reason why he did deserve you. Because he only saw his flaws – always only flaws – and he refused to consider how much more of him there was.

“I never meant to hurt you. Ever,” he said, “not even when I said those stupid things—it’s all because I’m—fuck, it all just sounds like an excuse, doesn’t it? An excuse to make me feel better about staying with you despite being bad for—”

“It might sound like an excuse,” you interrupted gently, “but it’s the one part that isn’t. You’re not bad if you didn’t mean to be. You’re not bad if you’re trying to be better.”

He thought it over for a minute and then, looking up from his abandoned cup of coffee, he gave you one final excuse, “I love you. Too much, probably.”

Inhaling sharply because the confession took you off-guard, you replied with a slight tremble in your voice, “I—I love you, too. You know I do. But I don’t want that to be something that… something that you take for granted.”

That had never been his intention – which was why his stomach clenched uncomfortably after you said this – but he knew he’d been doing exactly that: treating you like you were a constant in his life. As if he’d never lost you before. As if he couldn’t lose you again.

“I know,” he said, “I didn’t mean to. We’ve already been—”

Reading his mind, you cut in, “thank you for not waiting for seven years to apologize this time.”

Jungkook had to give you a good look before he allowed himself to react. When he saw the small grin on your lips right before you took another sip of your coffee, he laughed.

“No, I’ve learnt that lesson,” he said, “I promise.”

“Just that one, then?” you bit, not cruelly.

Jungkook lowered his eyes, taking the blow in silence.

Putting your cup of coffee down, you exhaled and kindly reminded him, “you know, you, uh—you’d promised me you would think before you acted.”

“I promised to try,” he corrected, careful. “And I’m trying, really. I’ve kept my other promises to you, haven’t I? I never lied to you.”

You nodded, “sure.”

“I’m getting myself together like my father wanted,” he stated and, looking out the window of the café, he added, “but I’m not doing it for the company.”

Surprised and, consequently, alarmed, you almost didn’t want to ask him what he meant. You were afraid there was a reason – a person – that he was trying to grow up for. You were afraid he might say he was doing this for you.

Because that would mean that his determination was temporary. He’d try to behave, try to mature, try to grow but only as long as he got a reward for it. Never because that was his own goal.

“No?” you questioned lamely, your voice almost a squeal.

“No,” Jungkook confirmed, “I’m doing it so I wouldn’t lose my teeth before I’m fifty.”

Startled at first when you recognized your own words, you felt your face break into a surprised smile. Jungkook was glad you remembered.

“I’m doing it for myself,” he said then, “so I could be with you.”

You did not say anything else – but not because you had nothing left to say. In fact, it was the opposite – you had too much to say and you couldn’t choose where to start.

“I want to…” Jungkook broke the momentary silence between you but he too struggled to find the right way to begin his next sentence. Clearing his throat and straightening his posture, he tried differently, “I want you with me through everything, but only if that’s what you want, too. If it’s not, then—”

Cutting him off with an aggressive clear of your throat – you didn’t mean to, but he was spitting out his words so quickly, you couldn’t find the right moment to interrupt him – you slid to the edge of your seat and shook your head.

“I want to be with you,” you said and then added in a matter-of-fact way, “I’ve always wanted that. But I need you to talk to me. I need you to tell me what you need—do you need me to be with you quietly, or do you need me to say something? Do you need me to stay or do you need me to leave you alone? Do you—”

“Stay,” he said without hesitation. “I always need you to stay.”

Leave, his voice echoed in your mind, the night at the bar still painfully fresh in your memory.

“I need you to tell me that,” you said, feeling a lump in your throat, “when you feel like you’re not thinking clearly. When you want to do something so you’d get rid of all that you’ve bottled up inside. I need you to talk to me.”

“I—”

“Don’t say you will if you don’t mean it,” you warned, noticing the determined look on his face. “I don’t want for us to keep going back and forth, because I don’t like it when you tell me to leave, only to say the exact opposite later.”

Wincing, Jungkook was forced to remember how the night ended yet again. Not wanting it to turn into another tail that you never addressed, even though it obviously strained your relationship, he cleared his throat before explaining.

“I… I just don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting your time on me,” he said, “I—I know I keep saying I’ll try to get myself together and learn how to—well, be an adult, but no one knows how long that’ll take me to learn, least of all me.”

Jungkook expected you to hesitate but your response was immediate.

“I never asked you to promise me something that you didn’t believe in. And I know that our future isn’t clear,” you said with a sympathetic nod because he didn’t give you an excuse right now. He gave you an explanation. “I’ve always known that. And I’ve stayed so far, haven’t I? So… how about you don’t worry about how long it’ll take for you to grow up? Worry about the end result instead. Worry about making sure that, at the end of the day, neither of us is wasting our time, pretending to be bigger and better than we actually are. Worry about us becoming as big and as good as we’re pretending to be. However long that takes.”

“I feel like the only way to really make sure we’re not wasting our time,” he confessed, “would be for me to leave.”

Groaning in defeat, you said, “you’re an idiot.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook needed a moment to understand why, but he got distracted by your exaggerated groan, so he just went with it, “yeah, I probably am.”

“You tell me that walking away is the right choice one more time,” you threatened, “I swear, I will punch you. And then you’ll really need stitches.”

He’d forgotten about his wounded eyebrow and the band-aid that he’d clumsily glued on it yesterday – after he accidentally ripped the wound open and didn’t want the blood to get in his eye.

Smiling now, he asked, “I thought violence wasn’t the answer?”

“You’re too thick to hear me otherwise.”

Jungkook laughed. You realized that, despite knowing him for twenty-three years now, you haven’t seen him laugh nearly enough times to get used to the sight.

“I need you, too. Okay?” you found yourself saying, hopeful that he’d really hear you this time. “A lot. And, believe me, I make it complicated for myself enough without your help—I overthink, I get scared, I hesitate, I waste my own time. But, see, I think it’s worth it. I think we’re worth it.”

He nodded, taking mental notes to ease his uncertainty about this. He had to know that being with you really wasn’t selfish on his part.

But even with your glittering eyes on him, he still needed more reassurance.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked. “I know you said I need to talk to you, I-I get that. Okay. But what do you need me to do so you wouldn’t look back at this, and think of every minute you’ve spent with me as a minute wasted?”

You didn’t have to think long about your answer.

“I need you to give yourself a break,” you told him. “You’re not something I have to “put up with”. You’re not bad for me. I need you to understand that I genuinely love you and it hurts me when you refuse to see it.”

Ready to apologize again, Jungkook suddenly stopped himself. An apology would have only been genuine if he knew what he was apologizing for – and he wasn’t sure that he did.

“I’ve never… no one’s loved me like that before,” he admitted, his eyes low.

You shook your head because that wasn’t true at all, and it was painful to know that he’d spent his whole life thinking so. He’d gotten so used to believing that he was only loved as much as he was useful, he couldn’t even see how some love was completely unconditional.

“Yes, they have,” you said, speaking slowly because you waited for him to look at you again, “your mom—she loves you much more than you see. Let her. Let me. Learn how to stop thinking of yourself as someone not worthy of love.”

“It’s—but I wasn’t always this way,” he said, not just stepping on the tail, but gripping it tightly, too. “Seven years ago. I’d been putting myself first every day before that. But that day—that last day—t-that was probably the day when I’d made the only smart decision in my life – I did the right thing by not putting myself first. I thought of you, and I walked away.”

You and him kept going in circles -- with Jungkook beating himself up for not being good enough, and then finally giving himself a moment to breathe only to return, yet again, to the loudest voice in his head: he thought he was selfish for being with you. He thought it’d be better to leave.

His mother had thought so, too, and she’d said the exact same thing to you. You’d disagreed then and you disagreed now.

“And how’d that “smart decision” work out in the end?”

“Well—”

“It obviously didn’t,” you answered for him, “or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But, you know what, you’re right about one thing – maybe the moment you overheard your mom say that she was worried about your influence on me, was exactly the moment you convinced yourself that you weren’t worth it. That you didn’t deserve to be loved unless you became exactly what you thought people wanted you to be,” you finished and Jungkook looked frozen, not daring—and not being able—to move a muscle. You felt the need to add, “so, you’re, uh—you’re right. You weren’t always this way. But this change—that wasn’t a good change. You hadn’t made a good decision. It was stupid. Walking away was stupid.”

It took him a minute to regain control of himself and when he did, he wasn’t sure what to say because, mentally, he was across the table, standing right behind you and holding you so tightly, neither of you was able to breathe.

“I was—” he said and almost choked, his mouth dry. Swallowing, he tried again, “I-I was trying to look out for you.”

“I understand your reasons,” you said, not needing him to explain it again. “Let’s say you were. But I’m not in the ninth grade anymore. You said so yourself, I can walk away. I know my limits.”

Jungkook nodded, keeping his respectful silence as he listened.

“You push them every day,” you added.

Blinking, he scrambled for a way to reply, “I—”

“And,” you weren’t done yet, “I let you know when you do. I tell you. And if you told me about what you were thinking, too, then we could work on it,” you paused, wondering if you’d said everything. Then, deciding that you hadn’t, you added, just to strengthen your point, “walking away is not the best solution. Not when it hurts more than staying.”

Jungkook feared what you would answer, but he still had to ask, “does staying with me hurt?”

Your skin prickled at the sound of his small voice.

“No,” you admitted.

“Does leaving?”

“Yes,” you said. “Always.”

Inhaling sharply, he longed to reach over the table and touch your hand, but he felt himself freeze again – as if this whole afternoon had been one dream, and he was now paralyzed: his mind awake, but his body still asleep.

“Come to my show this Friday night,” he finally asked, his breathing shallow while his words poured out of his mouth in an uncontrollable stream, “fight me and punch me if I’m wrong. Argue with me and completely shatter whatever was left of my ego after I fell in love with you. Leave me by myself if you’ve had too much. Walk away if you need some time to breathe while I learn how to be better. But always come back to me,” pausing because he needed one more moment to brace himself before saying this again, he asked, “stay with me, please.”

keep reading | masterlist

#bts reactions #bts college au #bts fanfiction #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #college au #angst #fanfiction #fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook angst #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook college au

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nxrthmizu · 3 years

Text

love in bubble wraps.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.9k

author's note | based on a real life experience... :)

Love, you think, comes in many forms. Sometimes love is a warm, home-cooked meal that is now cooked at least once a week because you told your mother you liked it. Other times, love is laughing and crying alongside the friends you’ve known since pre-school because everyone passed their highschool finals with flying colours. Throughout our lives, we gradually come to meet the different forms of love, because it comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes.

First, we learn that love is a roof that you can always turn to when a storm blows in. Then, we learn that love is knowing that there are people who will drop everything to help you when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Lastly, we learn to interlock our fingers with the one we wish to walk to the end of time with.

Then again, love varies from person to person— Just like how the goddess of love, Aphrodite, looks different to every soul that sets its sights on her; Beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder. For some, love comes in the form of a warm body to cuddle next to on a rainy day. For others, love comes in the form of a jewelled ring. For you, love comes in the form of a 6’2 man who still doesn’t know how to tame his bedhead.

Tetsurou is often too busy for his own good, always running around here and there to secure contracts, ensuring that Japan can make a name for itself during the Olympics. He books train tickets to opposite ends of Japan at least once a month, leaving before the sun rises and returning after it sets. The sun never dictates his work day, because while his coworkers work from nine to five, Tetsurou works until he finishes his tasks.

Okay, so your husband is a bit of a workaholic. And maybe not just a bit.

“L/N-san,” Your colleague asks one day out of sheer curiosity. A group of women are gathered around the snack station, sipping on cheap, machine-produced instant coffee as they gossip about their marital lives instead of working. “Now that I think about it… I’ve never met your husband, have I?”

“Ah,” You sweat-drop nervously at this. Wonderful— Your parents are already pressuring you about how Kuroo rarely visits with you— And now your coworkers, too? “He’s quite busy. He works very hard to make sure that we’ll be well-off in the future.” You respond, knowing that your reply is just a thinly-veiled way of saying ‘He’s rarely home,’.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Wherever you go, there’s always a middle-aged lady who has nothing better to do than to prey on the weak spots of your life, “It must feel lonely. You must feel so sad when you see my husband pick me up from work.” A smirk dances up her lips as she waits for you to walk into her trap, smiling as widely as a spider watching its incoming meal.

“Not really,” A practiced smile counters hers as you take a sip of your coffee. “I know Tetsurou loves me— There’s an unbreakable trust between us. He might not be home often, but I know that he’s working hard so that we can have a better tomorrow… And that’s sort of comforting, in a sense. Knowing that Tetsurou wishes for a future where we’re financially stable, where we can just spend a whole day doing nothing in each other’s presence…”

A chorus of ‘awws’ makes you blush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the middle-aged coworker huff in failure. You mentally fist-pump the air at your victory.

“Anyway, I heard that you got engaged last weekend, Shiho-san,” Changing the topic quickly, you smile when the attention of all the ladies instantly redirects to the said woman, who blushes fiercely as they all coo at her ring. “Congratulations!”

“Oh my! He bought you such a beautiful ring… Ah, Shiho-san, you’re so lucky!”

“My husband also bought me a new bag last week,” The middle-aged woman chips in proudly, cocking her head towards her cubicle, where the leather handbag sits atop a tower of documents. “It’s very expensive.”

“That’s nice of him! It’s been forever since my husband bought me something.” Sighs another lady. Most of the group hums in agreement, sharing sympathetic looks with those that share the same fate.

“At the beginning, when we were still dating, Hayato used to buy me so many things, now…” The coworker that brings homemade cookies every New Years’ party says, looking dejected. “It’s like once we’re married, they don’t have to worry about making us happy anymore…”

“Ah, what about you, L/N-san? Does your husband buy you things often?”

You groan internally when the attention shifts to you once more. Honestly, you’re just there to listen and enjoy your coffee— Must you keep getting dragged into the conversation? “Well, personally I don’t really need my husband to buy me things to keep me happy, but… He does bring back trinkets whenever he travels.” You think about it for a while, then brighten when you remember the latest thing Tetsurou brought back for you.

“What is it?” Your change in expression isn’t missed by your coworkers, who preen with curiosity, excited to know what made you brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I promise, you’ll be disappointed if I tell you.” You chuckle.

“Come on!” “Be a good sport, L/N-san!” “We’re curious now, you can’t not tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You sigh, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Three days ago, Saturday ]

You were on the couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy with the Netflix subscription Tetsurou got for you to occupy yourself with while he was out of town. Your cat, Kazume (nicknamed after your husband’s best friend) lazed on your lap, yawning once in a while and swatting at the stray threads from your sweater.

Somewhere in between your fifteenth and seventeenth episode, the front door chirped with the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock. You perked up at the noise, Kazume yelping in protest as he almost slipped off.

“Oh, sorry Kazu.” You said quickly, a smile widening your lips as the front door opened.

“I’m ho—” Before your husband could finish his sentence, you were already at his side. Kazume meowed loudly from the couch, complaining about you abandoning him for another man. Tetsurou’s eyes softened, the edges of his hazel irises worn down by exhaustion. You took his laptop bag from him, as well as the folders he has in hand, balancing them like how you would balance your three grocery bags when Tetsurou wasn’t around to help. “I missed you too, but are you sure you can carry all of my files with one hand?”

“Yes!” You replied confidently, showcasing your balance as you wobbled through the living room with all of your husband’s stuff. Tetsurou’s laugh echoed through the apartment as he followed you, his reflexes coming into play as he dived for a falling file. “Oops.” You giggled, helping him up after he practically hurled himself at the floor.

Tetsurou shook his head, sighing fondly while he hugged you from the back, taking comfort in the familiar smell of your hair shampoo. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You hummed, reaching back to stroke your hands through his still-untamed bedhead.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tetsurou leapt up suddenly, chucking his backpack onto the ground. “I brought back something for you!”

“I already have like, twenty-five keychains from Hyogo,” You reminded him, “Please tell me it’s not a…” Your voice trailed off when Tetsurou proudly whipped his gift from his backpack, hazel eyes shining for your reaction.

“... So?” Tetsurou grinned widely, like a five-year-old child holding up his drawing for his mother to critique.

“Oh my god, I love you.” You declared in your 80 sq ft kitchen, grabbing the gift from him. “I’ll clean up your stuff, go take a bath and we can have dinner while watching the…'' You pursed your lips as you try to recall the information that kept evading you like an annoying fly. “... 15th? 16th episode of Grey’s.”

“You started that without me? I said I wanted to watch that.” Tetsurou pouted petulantly like a child.

“I finished all the other stuff I wanted to watch,” You told him unapologetically. “And Kazume wanted to watch it too. Now hurry and take a bath or I’m starting without you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were cuddled up to your husband, who did not bother to comb his hair (“It’ll just be messy later anyway,” His reasoning was). Every few seconds, he would scoop some cold mash potato out of the giant bowl (The two of you were too impatient to heat it with the microwave) and feed you. All throughout the episode, there was the constant pop-pop-pop of you working your way through the giant piece of bubble wrap Tetsurou had brought home for you.

“You know, I was thinking,” You hummed as Tetsurou pressed ‘Next Episode’. “If It were any other woman, they might have slapped you for bringing just bubble wrap home after a whole week away.”

“Well, then I’m lucky that you aren’t ‘any other woman’, am I?” Your husband smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before picking up the mash potato bowl again. “Are we just going to have mashed potatoes for dinner?”

“I bought spicy instant noodles yesterday, we can have that later if you want.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Present, Tuesday ]

“That’s actually so sweet of him!” Your colleague coos as you finish your story. “Wish I had a husband like that…'' Even the middle-aged lady begrudgingly nods in agreement. For a moment, you feel a surge of pride— It was your husband they were talking about— Your sweet, hardworking, dork of a 6’2 bedhead.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive.” Another lady snorts. “That guy is away for weeks at a time.”

You hum. “Well, at least he calls back every night, regardless of how tired he is.” In the corner of your mind, you remember that he makes sure to call his grandmother every weekend, and that he sends his parents (and grandparents) money every month, that he visits your parents the first Sunday after he’s back from his trips— Not to mention that he always brings a gift of wellness products (The most recent one was a box of abalone).

The group of women swoon once more.

“Well, I guess we should get back to work,” You dispose of your paper cup in the trash, brushing your hands off. “See you ladies later.”

The moment you’re back at your desk, you take out your phone to text your husband, who is, no doubt, going to be very, very confused.

[ y/n ] 2.37pm

— we have a problem

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.39pm

— what’s wrong???

[ y/n ] 2.38pm

— i may have accidentally caused 20 women in my office to fall in love with you

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.38pm

— what ???

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

you know it's love when your dad comes home with this giant piece of bubble wrap and your mom literally squeals and snatches it to immediately start popping it on the couch while browsing facebook on her ipad

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou fluff #[ris writes]—✧

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rocketink · 3 years

Text

LOST AND FOUND

In which you lose your stuff all the time but your first-floor neighbour somehow always has it for you. Or, in a soulmate world, your soulmate finds everything you loses and reverse.

pairing: minghao x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, crack + neighbor & soulmate! Au

wc: 2.2k+

warnings: none I think (this type of soulamte thingy is kinda crazy tho). Btw this is my first au so I’m sorry fpr any mistakes!! + English is not my first language so apologies :)

notes: I migh turn this into a series since I’ve thought about some details here and there as I wrote this au?? What do you think??

The situation inside your apartment has turned unbearable, and you know should have moved with Joshua when you had the chance. He wasn't the closest of your friends, but you're sure it would have been more comfortable with him rather than third-wheeling your roommates.

Now, you don't hate Mingyu and your best friend, you just think they are disgustingly cute. You feel very happy since you've seen them pining after each other for a while now (all the furtive glances they sent to each other when they thought nobody was looking was like being inside a rom-com movie and it was hilarious at first. It eventually became too much to handle). You've never seen two more oblivious people inside a room, it was exasperating. Things began to turn serious when they discovered they were each other's soulmates and they've been seriously dating ever since.

It's great, really, but why do you have to see each of their displays of affection? Or, should we say, why doesn't the time to find your soulmate finally get to you?

Because you know, deep down inside you, that the problem is not that they have a soulmate. The problem is that you don't find it.

"Good morning, love." Mingyu greets your friend with his deep morning voice, and gives them a kiss on their temple. "Good morning, Y/n." He gives you a tiny hug and you growl.

"It's too early for being cute don't you think?" You ask joking-not-so-joking.

"Feeling grumpy at eight in the morning? Woah, breaking your own record." You laugh at what your friend says and they laugh too. You don't mind being like this, just why does it have to get so awkward sometimes?

"Guys another disgrace has happened." You announce solemnly. "I have lost my jacket"

"Again?" Mingyu judges.

"But didn't you wash it yesterday? It must be hanged with the rest of the clothes."

"I checked when I woke up because it's cold and it wasn't there."

"It was pretty windy last night, maybe it fell?" Your friend suggests and they grin. "Maybe Minghao will bring it back to you later?"

Ah, here we have the other reason why you want to move to a lost town somewhere in Australia: Xu Minghao, your first-floor neighbor, the one that has an apartment to envy because of his small, well-decorated courtyard. You don't envy that, though, because your clothesline is right on top of his courtyard, and sometimes he has to bring you all the clothing items that fall into his yard. You don't know how all that ends up there, you've tried everything: from securing your clothes with more pins to tying it to the clothesline. But none of that ever works, and he always goes all up to the third floor -where you live- to give it back to you with a smile and a 'see you soon'. How does he know it's your clothes? You made sure to tell him the first time this happened.

Just like your friend predicted, that afternoon Xu Minghao knocked at your door.

"Hello." He greets with a friendly smile and your heart melts.

He's too adorable to handle.

"Hi, Minghao. Don't bother I think I know why you're here." You joke at your own clumsiness and he laughs with you too.

"You must have been cold without it." He seems worried and you shake your head.

"Don't worry, two layers of blankets made up for it."

He puts his hands into his pockets and smiles shyly and you feel your heart bursting off. When he leaves, you notice your jacket smells like him.

Ah, how you wished Minghao was your soulmate.

Things get more complicated when the finals approach. You can barely stand even after drinking your daily coffee and you spend day after day coming and going from home to the library. You are so focused and stressed that you barely pay attention to anything else, and you've lost from pens to your entire case. All of them safely brought back home by Minghao. You do not know how or when you threw your case through the window for it to end up at Minghao's yard, but he always brings some hot chocolate and a small talk with him, so you do not complain.

After all, you don't even remember how you wake up every morning by the end of the day. You end up thinking you need to control yourself a little more during finals.

One day it gets out of hand. You've probably had the worst of the days. You woke up late because you didn't hear the alarm clock, your roommates being all lovey-dovey already got you on your nerves, your exam was harder than you expected and you had a bad feeling about your answers. Then, when you finally got home, late and tired, your keys were nowhere to be found. You could feel your eyes getting watery and you knocked at the door. Nobody answers, your friend and Mingyu are celebrating their anniversary and you don't want to bother them even if all you want is a hot shower and watching a romantic without friends to cuddle. You immediately think of Minghao, would it be too much if you asked him to spend some time with you? You answer to yourself that yes, it would be too much, there's no need to bother anyone else. So what do you do now?

"Y/n?" Somebody asks behind you.

"Minghao?" And there you have it, just the one you were thinking of.

"Hi, uhm, are you okay?" You want to cry to that question, but you manage to hold back your tears.

"I'm fine I just- I must have lost my keys because I can't find them and there's no one home and I just want to sleep." You explain briefly.

"Are these your keys?" He holds something in his left hand that looks like your keyring -a framed pink paper with your name on it and a little olaf your sister once bought you-

"How did you find it?"

"I didn't, it appeared in my yard". He is as confused as you are.

"But... I remember I put it inside the pocket of my bag." You explain. "When I arrived it was opened so I just supposed they fell out. And there's no way they fell into your yard because they are always inside my bag, I never threw them... Why would anyone throw a keyring through my window? I-" You try to explain without taking a breath so that Minghao doesn't think you're a weirdo, but now you can't fight back your tears and Minghao looks worried.

"It's okay Y/n, don't worry, I understand. Well, I don't, but I know you didn't do it. Hold on let's get inside I'll make you some hot chocolate and we can watch a movie, okay?"

You nod without thinking, just wanting to be lulled into some peace. He makes you some hot choco as promised and makes some small talk while choosing a movie to watch.

"So where are your roommates?" He asks.

"Celebrating their anniversary."

"Wait, are they dating?"

"Didn't you know?"

"No? I'm so shocked what the hell." You laugh at his astonished face. "But are they...?"

"Soulmates? Yes, they are."

"Woah, lucky."

"I know right." You don't want this topic to surface but you can't help but ask. "Have you met your soulmate?"

"I haven't." After a few seconds, he adds, "have you?"

"No, not a single clue of who they are. I don't have a timer or a tattoo, or see them in my dreams... I'm getting tired of waiting. Overall watching the two lovebirds every day of my life."

"It is the same thing for me. I'd love to meet them or just to know how they are. I know I'm young and all that but I'm just very curious and almost all my friends have met them while I still don’t know how to find them. I feel left out."

You nod, relating to that feeling.

"By the way, if it gets tiring, why don't you just move out?"

"I don't know where to move to be honest. I don't know if I want to go through the 'look for a new apartment' process again, it's too tiring. Besides, I still have fun with them, they're not to blame for my loneliness."

Minghao laughs and looks away.

"Just so you know, I'm moving out next month. I found another apartment for a better price and I'm going to leave the one I have now. If it gets too unbearable, you can just take my place." And you are too focused on yourself to notice the sad look on his face.

Because Minghao and your little encounters made your whole living in a student's apartment life better, and you don't want him to go away. But you are just a neighbor in Minghao's life, so who are you to tell him that?

Minghao moves the following month just as promised, and you can't remove the moping face you wear.

"Why are you so sad Y/n? I've seen the new neighbor, he is as hot as Minghao." Your friend winks and you roll your eyes.

"I don't care. If he doesn't pick up my stuff then I don't want him."

"I've heard he is all the time arguing with their other roommate. Maybe they leave sooner than expected and Minghao comes back!"

"Don't be mean, Gyu!" You nag and he shrugs.

Somebody's knocking at the door distracts you from your conversation and both of your friends turn to look at you.

"Why do I always have to get the door? There's no Minghao now, I don't want it."

"Maybe is your new blue prince"

"Shut up, Mingyu."

But when you open the door to a frowning Minghao, your heart backflips.

"What are you doing here Hao? Is everything okay?"

"I am a little concerned." He shows you a small necklace you recognize immediately. "What was this doing in my house?"

"I lost it last week at university! I didn't know where it went." You try to answer.

"To my room?"

"Look, I also don't know what was my necklace doing in your house in which I've never stepped a foot in because is like five kilometers away ... Oh my god Hao did you walk here?"

"I took the bus." He looks down and then right at you. "The last time I saw you you were wearing it. I've been thinking for a week how did this get there since I haven't seen you in a month, I never took it and I know for sure you are not a stalker who would leave their necklace inside my room when nobody’s looking."

"Have you reached any conclusion?"

"Absolutely none. Then I talked to Jun and he said some of the romantic trash he usually thinks of, but this made me think."

"What did he say?" You don't know what direction this conversation is taking.

"He's a soulmate expert you know? He told me that maybe it’s because destiny wants us to meet again and I thought that couldn't be because oh god, what have I done to deserve you? Then I decided to make a little experiment and I'm really nervous because if this doesn't work out I might have lost the most important thing to me. Do you mind checking your room?"

You feel everything inside you revolving because of every single one of his words, but still, you do as he requests. You check your room, ignoring the question marks over your roommate's heads, and find nothing different. Except for a new notebook on top of your nightstand you hadn't noticed. It's a sketchbook, and all of the drawings on the inside are signed with Minghao's name.

"Is this yours?" He sighs in relief when he recognizes the sketchbook.

"This is a part of my life, you know?"

"Then how did you lose this?"

"I told June to leave it somewhere I didn't know so that I couldn't even look for it. I wasn't sure if it was going to work."

"I can't believe the universe does works like this."

"Me neither, but I'm glad it did."

"So, you said this friend of yours is an expert in soulmates?" You don't want to ask it directly, but you want to know if he's implying that you two are soulmates.

"Yes, I used the s word." You both laugh.

"Does this mean that you and I... You know."

"Jun told me this type of soulmate is rare, but it has happened under easier circumstances. All I know is that I keep finding you every time and I don't know if I ever want to stop finding you."

"OH COME ON JUST KISS ALREADY." You hear Mingyu shouting from the kitchen. "Babe, now I know how Y/n felt with us."

You want to laugh at Mingyu and tell him 'Ha, suffer you loser', but Minghao has other plans.

When he kisses you everything just seems simple and suddenly everything is fine, and you don't want to stop doing it. It's warm, it feels as if you had lost and found the most important thing in your life.

"Hold on then why did I never find anything yours?"

"Y/n, you break the kiss just to ask this?" You blush and he sighs. "I'm a very organized person, unlike others, so I barely lose things, happy now?"

"No. Does this mean that if I get lost in a crowd would you magically find me? You know, since I got lost."

"I don't know Y/n, and I don't want to find out. Now come here, I want to cuddle."

"Oh, yes. Finally."

#seventeen #minghao #seventeen imagines #minghao imagines #seventeen fluff #the8 imagines #minghao fluff #seventeen x reader #minghao x reader #seventeen au #minghao au #seventeen scenarios #minghao scenarios #seventeen fanfic #minghao fanfic #seventeen oneshot #minghao oneshot #seventeen drabble #minghao drabble

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Go Back - Part 1

Josh Sawyer x Reader

A/N: Inspired by the song Go Back by Tony Allen ft. Damon Albarn. Josh’s wife has thrown him out and he’s been avoiding his obsessive ex-girlfriend after a one-night-stand. And then he met you. Life is complicated enough, isn’t it?

Additional A/N: I found Locked In a bit confusing but Ben looked totally hot in it! Sort of like a naughty King Caspian 🔥😉 This is very loosely based on the film plot but I’ve dropped the whole ‘daughter in coma’ part of the storyline so basically have rewritten the film 😄

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral and unprotected, between consenting adults*. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

When you see the stained reflections of city lights

But you're far away at sea, with all the satellites

And the runaways

What am I gonna do with you if you go back?

You're a runaway

What am I gonna do with you if you go back?

You're a runaway

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He quickly picked up the glass as soon as the bartender put it down and emptied it of the shot of whisky. The bartender eyed him, taking in the dark good looks, the slumped shoulders as he leant on the bar, his morose expression. “Bad day, bud?” he grunted.

Josh nodded, “And some.” He sighed and tapped the glass, it being swiftly refilled. “Wife’s divorcing me ‘cause she found out I’d hooked up months ago with an ex - just the one time! - and kicked me out. She’s making it difficult for me to see my kid. And the ex has gone into full-on stalker mode.” He downed the second whisky and asked for a beer. The barman popped the top for him and placed the bottle and a tall glass in front of him, “Rough on ya. Hope it works out, man.” He moved away to serve another customer.

Another beer later, Josh left the bar and headed the short distance down to the Charles River, sitting down on a bench next to the water and gazing out across it. It was Friday night and there were quite a few people strolling along the river. How the fuck had he got here? No home, no marriage, no steady job… his phone vibrated in his pocket and made him jump.

He pulled it out. Jesus H Christ! Would this never stop? He killed the call and went into his contacts. Found Renee’s details and deleted them. He should’ve done this months ago. When she next called back - and she would - he’d block her. If he had deleted them in a more timely manner, maybe Emma would never even have found out, he thought bleakly. But then admitted to himself that their marriage hadn’t exactly been a bed of roses the past couple of years, so maybe it was always just fated to end one way or another.

He stood up, sliding his phone back into his jeans pocket and taking one last look at the river flowing past him. Turning to leave, he heard an exclamation and a low cry of pain. A woman was half bent over just a short way along the riverside walkway, making small bunny-hops while clutching her ankle. He approached closer and asked if she needed some help. She smiled up at him, and with that simple gesture his world suddenly got a little bit brighter.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d been walking briskly along the riverside walkway heading to your apartment when you turned your ankle on an uneven area of paving. A low crack accompanied this and for a few awful seconds, you thought you’d actually broken it but then realised the victim was one of your high-heeled shoes.

“Ow! Dammit! Shit!!” you cursed, hopping about like a mad March hare. A shadow fell across the walkway in front of you, and you heard a deep voice asking if you needed help. Looking up, you saw that your knight in shining armour was one of the hottest guys you’d laid eyes on for a long time. You didn’t realise that you were smiling up at him until he suddenly returned your smile.

Without so much as a second thought about stranger danger, you blurted out, “Can you believe I’ve broken the heel of my shoe! And twisted my ankle. Listen, I live just along there..” you pointed, “…would you mind helping me hobble along to my apartment? I’d really appreciate it.” The stranger smiled even more broadly at you, “No problem at all, be happy to.” He offered you his arm and you grabbed it, standing upright and then slipping off your one remaining intact shoe so you could carry both.

The two of you started a slow walk along the riverfront, your ankle still being painful enough to stop you putting any weight on it. So as you’d anticipated, you were indeed hobbling and wobbling along. “Have you got any ice at home?” he asked you. “Yes, but I also have frozen peas,” you laughed, “that’s probably the least messy thing to use as a cold compress, isn’t it?” He smiled back at you again, nodding, and you thought about how much the two of you seemed to be smiling at each other.

“Which is your condo?” he asked, before continuing. ”I’ve just moved in to one myself here very recently.” You pointed out The West End Apartments, “That’s mine.” “Nice,” he nodded, “mine is a bit further back from the water. The Towers at Longfellow.” “Oh yeah, I know them. Looked at an apartment there before I bought mine.” “I’m just renting for now. I… ah…didn’t expect to be looking for an apartment, to tell you the truth.” You glanced across at him and saw that he now had a stony expression on his face. You decided to change the subject, “Could I be a complete pain and ask you to deliver me to my door? There’s an elevator but I’m still struggling a little here.”

The smile was back on his face, “Yes, of course.”

A few moments later, and holding your Good Samaritan’s arm in a firm grip, you were ascending the few steps up to the main entrance of your condo. As you wobbled through the lobby with him on your way to the elevator, you decided it might be a good idea to introduce yourself. You’d also decided that you were going to invite him in for a drink or a coffee in appreciation of him helping you in your hour of need. And if you were honest, you wanted to try and get to know him a little.

He didn’t seem to be a homicidal maniac, after all.

In fact you got a slightly melancholic vibe off him.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Josh pressed the Call button and stole a quick glance at her, thinking how beautiful she was. And how lucky he’d been to bump into her tonight, she’d certainly lifted his mood. He’d jumped at the chance to spend even a couple more minutes with her by escorting her to her door. She’d made him feel relaxed and at ease, which was surprising to him as he’d literally only just met her. He’d been so on edge recently that any relief from the anxiety was truly welcome.

The elevator arrived and he guided her inside; she leant against the side to take the weight off her ankle. With a little smile, she introduced herself and he told her his name. By that time, the elevator had zipped up to the top floor and they emerged into a large lobby area. He noticed there was only one door. She pointed at it, “That’s me,” and they headed towards it.

She fumbled her keys out of her bag and opened the door, turning to him and asking, “Would you like to come in for a coffee or a drink to say thanks for helping me out?” He hesitated, and she jumped in, “It’s okay, I understand if you’d rather not.” He looked at her, the small smile on her face, the little shrug she gave. Did he really need to complicate his life even more? But as soon as she’d finished speaking, he heard himself saying, “Yeah, I’d like that.” She limped through the doorway, “C’mon in then,” she said, over her shoulder.

He followed her into the apartment, seeing a huge open-plan area with floor-to-ceiling windows forming each end of the space. “Wow, this is nice,” he commented, “much nicer than mine!” She laughed, “Oh, I’m sure yours is just as nice.” He shook his head, wandering around and taking in the whole space, spotting a half-open door leading to a bedroom. Get your mind out of there right now, he said to himself. “No, believe me - mine is much smaller and without the huge amount of light you must get in here.” She walked over to the kitchen area, turning back to look at him, “What’s your poison?” “Uhh… do you have any beer?” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over an armchair.

She pulled out two bottles of local beer, “Is this okay for you?” “Perfect,” he nodded, so she popped the tops and handed one to him, before also grabbing a bag of frozen peas. She headed to the sofa, sitting down and holding the bag against her ankle; he’d followed her and sat down at the other end of it. “So, Josh… tell me something about yourself,” she asked in a non-interrogative way. He smiled, feeling a bit apprehensive as he always did now when asked about himself, “Ha, well, okay but I’m warning you, I’m not very interesting! I directed commercials for an ad agency for the past few years, but decided to jack it in recently. It all got to be too much, d’you know what I mean? So I’m doing some freelancing at the moment.” She nodded, and he carried on, warily, “I… uh, I’m in the middle of a divorce and I’ve got one kid, a daughter called Brooke. Another reason - the main one, actually - that I left my job, I wanted to spend more time with her. That’s about it, really. I did warn you it wasn’t very interesting.”

He looked over at her and noticed the small frown on her face and laughed, “I’ve put you off now, haven’t I? Which was it, the no job, the divorce or my kid?”

She shook her head, smiling, “None of them. I was just feeling a little sad for you. My parents divorced when I was younger so I know how difficult it can be all round.” He relaxed a little, sitting back against the sofa, “Yeah, it’s not ideal. My wife’s making it difficult for me to see Brooke.” “That’s your daughter, right?” When he nodded, she continued, “And you just said ‘my wife’ so that sounds like you haven’t yet really accepted that the divorce is going through.”

He took a swig of his beer and relaxed even more, leaning one arm along the back of the sofa. “Oh I’ve definitely accepted it, I guess it’s just habit. My “ex” wife, I should have said. The divorce will be final very soon so I’d better get used to saying that.” Another sympathetic look from her, “I’m sorry you’re going through that.” He shrugged, “There was a trigger for it but if I’m honest, it’d been on the cards for a while. Things hadn’t been good for the past couple of years.” Reaching over and putting the bag of peas on the coffee table and curling her legs underneath her, she said, “Is it too intrusive to ask what the trigger was? Tell me to mind my own business if you like!” she grinned.

He found himself grinning back, “Nah, it’s okay… I’d gone out to pick up more sweets last Halloween and uh, I stopped in for a quick drink on the way. I happened to meet an ex of mine in the bar and regrettably, I… um, well, we…” Her hand went up, “It’s okay, I get your drift! I shouldn’t have asked, sorry. I’m too nosy for my own good.” “It’s fine. I’m not proud of it. And karma’s got me good in any case. Not only the divorce but the ex is stalking me.” “Oh… really? And I take it you don’t want her to stalk you?” He laughed out loud, “No, I definitely don’t! There was a reason we split, y’know? At the time, I didn’t want to do the whole ‘settle down and get married’ thing, and that was her only goal. So I broke up with her. That makes me sound very shallow but I just really couldn’t handle it, she was pulling me over to jeweller’s windows and buying bridal magazines. We’d only been going out for a couple of months!” He paused, “In fact, again if I’m honest, I’m not sure I was even ready for all that when Emma and I got married.”

She leant back, sipping her beer, “I see. Well, as I’m asking intrusive questions tonight I may as well ask, why did you propose?” He looked away for a moment before meeting her eyes once more, “She thought she was pregnant. Turns out she wasn’t but I’d asked her and all the arrangements were underway by the time I found out.” “Was it a genuine mistake?” She was looking intently at him. He blew out a big breath. No-one had ever asked him that before. Thinking for a moment longer, he replied, “You know, I’m really not sure. I know that previously she’d asked about my exes and I’d laughingly told her about ‘Bridezilla’. So if she was being manipulative, I guess she knew I maybe wouldn’t go down the marriage path too willingly and it may need to be something drastic to get me there.” He laughed, a little bitterly.

She’d leant forward and put a hand on his arm, “Look, I don’t know your …ex.. wife at all and I shouldn’t have asked that, I’m sorry. Way too personal and insinuating things that probably never happened. Hey… changing the subject quickly, let me tell you my very uninteresting life story.” He couldn’t deny he was happy to move away from the previous topic, the turn the conversation had taken had unnerved him a little. His mind was still ticking over about it as she started speaking again and told him that she was a commissioning editor for a publishing house. She waved a hand around, “You’re possibly wondering how I can afford this place on that level of salary. Well, I couldn’t! - my extremely rich Daddy bought this place for me. And a holiday cottage on Cape Cod. And my car. He continually tries to salve his conscience and earn my forgiveness for him leaving me and Mom.”

Josh nodded slightly, “Ah okay, yes I confess I did wonder. I wouldn’t want to try and guess how much this place cost.” He gazed over at her, “And did it work?” “Did what work?” “Has he earned your forgiveness?” She laughed, shaking her head, “Ha. No, he hasn’t, to be honest.” Sipping her beer, she carried on, “All those nights of 14-year-old me listening to Mom crying herself to sleep? Me crying myself to sleep? Watching him create a new family without, it seemed, a backward glance at us?” She put her bottle down with a little bit of a bang, “So, no. Whatever he does or buys me, it’ll never make up for that.”

Josh’s heart sank. Was that how his daughter would feel about him when she grew up?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A sober look suddenly appeared on his face and you realised you must’ve said something to upset him. And then it dawned on you that he must be thinking about his own situation. “Oh no! I’ve put my foot in it again!” you said, guiltily, “Look, I have forgiven him mostly. Things like that happen and always have, haven’t they? - it’s just life. There is always a tiny kernel of hurt that lives inside me and that’ll never go. But I love my Dad and that’ll never change either. So your daughter - I guess you’re thinking of her - will feel the same, I’m sure.”

He sighed, “I hope so. It’s difficult to see her right now. Emma’s making it awkward for me, a punishment I guess. Not that I don’t deserve it - I cheated on her after all - but she shouldn’t use access to Brooke against me.” You agreed, continuing, “But that’s what generally happens, Josh. It’s the one really effective weapon that the ex-partner has in their possession. My mother used the same tactic,” you shrugged. “I’m doing my best to spend time with Brooke,” he mused, “but like I said, it’s difficult. And I’m sure it’s being made out to be my fault. I used to be a bit of a workaholic.”

The conversation continued on a different tack, more work-related and how it could be difficult to get a healthy life/work balance. He was totally relaxed on your sofa now, sprawled out with his long legs in front of him. You were in the middle of telling him about a yoga retreat you’d considered going on up in Cape Cod when you noticed his head had dropped onto his chest and his eyes were closed.

Oh. He’s fallen asleep, you thought, what do I do? Wake him? But something told you he hadn’t been sleeping that well lately, he’d more or less admitted it during your conversation. So you got up and went through to your guest room, taking a blanket and a pillow from the bed. Returning to the living area, you lifted his ankles and swung his legs onto the sofa, hearing him mutter something under his breath but he didn’t wake. Popping the pillow under his head and covering him with the blanket, you headed to your bedroom and went to bed.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Josh jolted awake, hearing his phone ringing and sitting up groggily. Where….? He looked around and at the blanket covering him. Ah okay… shit, he must’ve fallen asleep on her sofa! How embarrassing. He got up and headed to his jacket as he’d transferred his phone to its pocket when he’d got here. It stopped ringing just as he reached for it, and he pulled it out of the pocket to see a Missed Call notification from Emma. Shit!!!!

It was just after 9 and he wondered why she was calling him so early. He hit redial, and she picked it up on the second ring. “Where are you, Josh?!” she snapped as a greeting, “You’re supposed to be taking Brooke to the mall to get some roller skates, remember? She’s been ready for the last half hour, waiting for you! Did you forget?!” “No!” he snapped back, “I took a sleeping pill and I’ve slept in. I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can, okay?” He felt slightly guilty at lying to her but she was always sniping at him, and while he had temporarily forgotten about the mall trip, he could also have sworn that it was supposed to be happening the next day, not today. Emma had done that to him before, telling him he’d got the day wrong when he knew he had not.

And he certainly couldn’t tell her what had really happened. She’d never believe that it was an innocent situation. And sadly that was definitely the case, he thought with a rueful smile. He still had his boots on, never mind all his clothes. He thought fleetingly about how nice it would’ve been to wake up next to his new acquaintance this morning. He tried to ignore the thrill that ran through him as his morning wood chafed against his jeans. Emma’s voice pulled him abruptly out of his fantasy world.

She huffed, “Aww, not sleeping well, Josh? That’s what having a guilty conscience does to you.” He sighed, “Look, Em, let’s not do this okay? I’ll be over to pick up Brooke in… maybe 30 minutes.” “Alright,” she replied, “just make sure you are.”

Josh put his phone in his jeans pocket and picked up his jacket, shrugging into it and wondering what the best way would be to take his leave. If she was still in bed, he didn’t think it’d be appropriate for him to disturb her in her bedroom, bit too intrusive for their short acquaintance. Then he heard the faint sound of a shower running,

Damn! He could’ve done with using the bathroom, but thankfully it would only take him five minutes to jog round to his own condo. Just have to hold on!

Yeah, he’d leave a note for her.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Stepping out of the shower, you wondered if Josh was still sleeping. No work today, and the thought of sharing breakfast with him was a pleasant one. You were trying to be casual when thinking of him but you liked this guy. Really liked him, even with all his baggage. I mean, who didn’t have some of that? you thought, mentally shrugging.

Tying your robe, you took a quick look into the living area. Empty.

Your heart sank with disappointment. Was he one of those, then? The ‘leave in the morning without a word’ types? Obviously you hadn’t slept together, but still… you thought you’d felt a connection between the two of you.

You headed for your coffee machine, noticing a small piece of paper lying on your kitchen island as you made your way over. Swiftly you scooped it up.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Good morning - sorry for falling asleep on your sofa, what an interesting conversational partner I am, huh! I usually do better, I promise. Haven’t been sleeping too well lately and I got so relaxed I guess I just dozed right off. And sorry I’ve had to leave in a rush, I’m taking my daughter to the mall and am running late - another black mark against me! I’ll get straight to the point, I’d like to see you again. Here’s my number, I’ll let you contact me if you’re interested in meeting up for a proper date. I’m hoping you are!

Josh

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You filled the water jug and slotted it into the coffee machine, conscious that you had a huge smile on your face the whole time.

Okay, okay, you counselled yourself, this guy could turn out to be problematic. Cheated on his wife, in the middle of a divorce, could get pulled into a custody battle. You knew only too well how messy all that could get.

But maybe that’s exactly why you felt a distinct pull towards him.

YOLO and all that kind of stuff. You were going to give this a go, you decided. Heading into it with your eyes wide open and you thought you knew what to expect. It would either work, or he’d be too involved with his marital situation and cut you loose.

Either way, you were in.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

And when the harbourmaster comes

To switch off the lights (switch off the lights)

And the waiting rooms are empty

Of everyone

Does anyone

What am I gonna do with you if you go back?

Does anyone

What am I gonna do with you if you go back?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#ben barnes #josh sawyer #josh sawyer x reader #josh sawyer fanfiction #josh sawyer imagine #josh sawyer fanfic #locked in 2010 movie

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theautumnisnoble · 3 years

Text

we'll learn to swim in the oceans you made

After listening to Shirtsleeves by Ed Sheeran this scenario immediately came into mind, also heavily inspired by Jenn Im's pregnancy youtube video titled, "We're Pregnant!"

[Also a very big thank you to A (@solhwippedsubs on twt and holdoutandwin on ao3) for beta-reading this. I love you my solhwi fluff confidant!]

Word Count: 2k words

"Wake up!" Sol removes the comforter that was covering his husband's body and started shaking him. "Han Joon Hwi, ireona!"

"Mmm, Sol-ah. Why?" Joon Hwi covered his eyes with his arm to shield them from the rays of sunlight and wondered why the love of his life was forcing him out of their bed so early in the morning.

"Ireona! Jebal.." Joon Hwi immediately shot up as Sol's voice started to crack and he examined her face. Sol teared up and Joon Hwi noticed she was holding something tightly, stick close to snapping into half.

"Babe, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Joon Hwi held both of her arms and looked up at her.

Sol had been so emotional these days, well, more than she usually is. Sol always has been a passionate ball of fury, but Joon Hwi especially had it rough this week. He doesn't find Sol annoying or tiring for any of that matter, but he would wonder why Sol would suddenly cry or get mad at him for absolutely no reason, and if there was, then he avoided asking it as when he did that one time, Sol only got more mad at him. There was also yesterday when Joon Hwi sprayed on himself the perfume that Sol gifted to him on their wedding anniversary last April and Sol suddenly pinched her nose close and walked outside of their bedroom. And now, Sol was in tears, sobbing, at 7 am in the morning.

"Babe.. I'm starting to worry. What's wrong?"

"I told you to be careful!!!" Sol lightly punched his shoulder and bawled.

Joon Hwi raised his arm and wiped her tears using the sleeves of his sweater, pulling on the cloth with his fingers. "What did I do wrong? Calm down for a sec and tell me.."

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"O-okay." Joon Hwi surrendered for a while and let Sol release all of her emotions. Moments later, her sobs started to simmer down and Joon Hwi opened his arms wide. "C'mere."

Sol bended down and let Joon Hwi's arms circle around her. Her lower body slowly went closer to him and then she sat on his lap, her shoulder against his chest. Joon Hwi wiped down the dampness on her face and caressed her arm. "Now, babe, talk to me, okay? I'm never gonna know what I did wrong if you won't tell me."

Sol faced him and tried to form intelligent words. "Well, you—"

"Hmm?"

"I'm—" Her mouth started to form into a pout and tears started fall again from her eyes. "Joon Hwi-ah." She released sobs again and buried her face into his neck. Joon Hwi sighed and patted her arm.

"Babe—"

"I'm pregnant."

Joon Hwi paused his movements and pulled his head back away, lightly pushing Sol by her shoulders, to let Sol face him. Sol's eyes wandered down to her left hand and Joon Hwi followed them, then he grabbed the stick from her hand.

It was a pregnancy test. Two red-dyed lines. Positive.

Joon Hwi faced Sol, his lips starting to form into a smile. "Babe—"

"I told you to be careful!!" Sol again whimpered, tears still falling.

"W-what? Is it because I—"

"Nevermind!" Sol wiped her tears in a rash way and breathed out to calm herself down. "I-it's actually not your fault." Sol now realized the irrationality of her internal reasoning.

Joon Hwi held back a chuckle and tucked a hair behind his wife's ear.

"Remember April?"

"When we shared a sloppy kiss under the rain?" Joon Hwi tried to lighten the mood by reminding her how they had to walk all the way to the bus stop under the heavy pouring rain, just right after they had their wedding anniversary date at a fine dining restaurant four months ago. It was a funny, but sweet memory.

"No! Before that, when I got diagnosed with PCOS."

"Aah."

It left Sol and Joon Hwi almost hopeless for a child when she was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. But Sol, even before that, was convinced she didn't need to have kids and that she was satisfied with her life with Joon Hwi, content that they'd be that couple with no children. They were already busy with their very time-demanding jobs and Sol— she convinced herself she wouldn't be competent with the whole mothering a child thing. But after knowing her condition, the question, "should I?" turned to "could I?". The condition that would possibly rob her of the choice eventually made her think about how it wouldn't be so bad, because Joon Hwi was there. So after the news of her condition, she decided on one thing.

"A-after that I got off birth control." Joon Hwi nodded and listened to Sol, who was still tearing up a bit, and he also wiped down those tears when he could.

"Then yesterday, when I realized I wasn't on my period yet, I got to read my period calculator and saw that I- I was 16 days late." Sol exhaled for courage.

"Then I bought the pregnancy test." Sol paused and looked at Joon Hwi, and her face looked like she was about to burst again. Her lips were shaking and her eyes were still crystal with tears ready to fall. She was scared.

"You can take it slow, I'll be here. I won't stop listening." Sol released a small smile, tidied her face and tucked in her stray hairs, preparing to tell Joon Hwi more while also now trying to relax herself.

"I didn't know if I should take it though. I mean, everything would change if I was pregnant. But I did wanna know, I wanted to be certain. And it said that I should use my morning pee for it so I waited until morning."

"But you hardly even slept.." Joon Hwi recalls her wife tossing and turning beside him, and then ultimately giving up trying to sleep then went downstairs. He bets on Sol reading up on her cases, which works as an alternative sleeping pill for her.

Ever since she was diagnosed with PCOS, Sol really took effort into having a more healthy lifestyle— like exchanging coffee for matcha, this among other things, and also trying to get some more sleep. So Joon Hwi knew that Sol would definitely try to catch up on sleep.

"I did, a bit." She smiled. "So, after that I took it just earlier. A-and I tested positive." Sol's emotions now returned to her and she closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed and tears started to fall again.

"I'm scared." She looked at him. "I don't know if I'm gonna be a good mother. I feel like I should be happy or something, but I'm just really scared." Sol now covered her face with both palms and cried, Joon Hwi pulled her in to embrace her.

"Babe.." He patted her back.

"What if I try my best, and our kid still doesn't love me?" That was it. Sol released another wave of sobs and her body shook against Joon Hwi's embrace.

Sol thought she wasn't ready. Even if it was her choice to get off birth control, she didn't think she would immediately become pregnant. After all, her doctor said it was now almost impossible to be. In her mind, pregnancy would change everything— from how much devotion she has to her work to maybe how her and Joon Hwi's relationship would change, and maybe for the worst. And she didn't like change, her idealistic plans for her future would need to be altered, and she also didn't like how it would most likely change their marriage. She couldn't have that, she couldn't live with a ruined marriage because she didn't want anything to change between Joon Hwi and her, and she also couldn't live with her child possibly having to live through all that. And what if he gets tired of taking care of me? And tons of other doubts and insecurities showered her.

Why does my mind do this? Sol asked herself. Why can't I just be excited? Joon Hwi is the father of this child. I'm sure he's disappointed in me right now.

Joon Hwi pulled away after she calmed down. He wiped her face, again with his already damp shirtsleeves. He placed short kisses on her wet cheeks and cupped her face. "Sol, I believe in you."

Sol melted and her lips turned into a pout, her face still showing fear and uncertainty.

"I'm with you, whatever your decision is. I will be always there for you as I always have. If you arrive to whichever decision, I will give you my opinion but at the end I will always support you. If you don't want to have the baby, I'll still be here. If you want to try and see it through the end, I will be happy and help you every step of the way. I'm your husband Sol-ah. I know you don't trust yourself that much yet, but trust in me. "

Sol put her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I love you Sol. We'll take it slow, step by step. I know you're panicking right now, but there's no rush. We'll do it together. You're never gonna be alone. I'll be there every single step of the way. And I'm sure our kid will love you. You were an amazing older sister to Byeol and you still are, she adores you so I'm sure our kid will, too."

"I love you Joon Hwi. I love you so much. I love you."

"You love me that much?"

Sol pulled away, annoyed. Joon Hwi released a chuckle.

"I love you too."

"You sure I can do it?" Sol asked. "Being a mom? What if I'm going to be too busy for it?"

"We can always ask Byeol to babysit. Or your mom, she has said she already wants a grandchild."

"You always know the solution to things don't you?" Sol rolled her eyes.

"That's why I'm the perfect husband to the ever worrier Eomma Sol."

"Eomma Sol?" Sol raised her voice, taken aback by the sudden nickname.

"And I'm Appa Joon Hwi. " Then Sol bursted out, laughing. Her tears were now drying on her cheeks and she was more relaxed now.

"See? It's cute." I just wanted to see you smile. Joon Hwi thought.

Sol pulled him into a hug again. "You better not regret being a father to our child, Han Joon Hwi-ssi."

Joon Hwi let himself fall into bed, taking down Sol with her. They both laughed and Joon Hwi pulled her into a kiss, tasting the bitterness and sadness of her tears. They made out, feeling at home and Sol, feeling assured and loved by the person in front of her. Joon Hwi kissed her, tasting the ocean, drowning in the one she made.

"I will never regret it. I will fulfill all the promises I made on our wedding day, to be by your side, To support you, to be a loving husband, to be always there to annoy you—" Sol laughed, remembering his one-liner during their exchange of wedding vows. "To always wake and sleep beside you whenever I can, and to never leave your side." They both smiled at each other and Joon Hwi placed a kiss on her forehead. They pull each other close, feeling each other's warmth. And Sol is now close to slumber, fatigued after her nonstop crying.

"I'll be the happiest father to our child. Of course I will, you're the mother, after all."

#law school bingo #law school bingo: kissing in the rain #law school bingo: insecurity #law school bingo: wedding vows #law school bingo: anniversary #law school bingo: pregnancy #law school bingo: nicknames #law school fic fest #law school month #law school bingo: i just wanted to see you smile #Law School Bingo: Verdict

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serenasoutherlyns · 3 years

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Not a Summer Crush Part Four

a/n: this is a long one! enjoy. this chapter features coffee, colds, cuteness, serena southerlyn, schemes, saturdays. all feedback makes me LOVE you, so please please reblog, reply, like, anything! you can always find this on ao3 as well. happy evening, and part five coming at you soon!

Part Four

"Haley," Anderson stopped you in the kitchen the next day. He was reaching into the fridge to get one of the terrible salads he always ate and you were rinsing out your French press (you figured, there were plenty of coffee shops nearby but a) you didn't need to be spending your money like that and b) the way the grounds fell as you pushed them slowly to the bottom had more than once brought you moments of enlightenment). You didn't stop to listen initially but he continued. "Haley," he said, "how do you do," he paused, gestured to your whole body, "that."

You looked at him, blinked, expecting him to clarify, but he did not. You laughed at him, gently, appropriately. "I don't know, Anderson, I was born 27 years ago," he winced, "I did some things, I'll do some more things, in fact, I spend most of my time doing," you gestured to yourself, "this."

He opened his mouth a few times, trying to think of what he meant, but said, "I mean, you work sex crimes, and you're so,"

"Exuberant?" You said.

"I was going to say bubbly."

"Hm."

"Forget I said anything."

"No," you said, taking pity on the guy. "It's ok," you patted his shoulder, "You learn to deal with it, right? I mean, I think I am."

“How do you keep it from getting to you?” His question made you laugh, then your face fell, something serious behind your eyes.

“It gets to me. I’m so sad all the time. But if I always acted how I felt, I don’t think I could do it.”

"Right," he said, not quite convinced. "Look I've been with homicide for five months and I still don't think I'm there yet."

"Give up or give it more time then," you said to him with a raise of your newly cleaned French press and a shrug. As you walked back to your office (you had banned him from having meals in there in your first week on the job) he watched the way you occasionally raised yourself up on your toes, in awe at your apparent ability to stay sunny.

Someone else noticed your little rise and lower. Alex Cabot had, today, decided to leave the blinds to her office door open. It was so she could catch moments just like this one, you bopping along in the hallway with your coffee maker, somewhere between walking and dancing.

Fuck, she thought, not even bothering to stop the grin, that's so cute.

Alex had talked to Casey. Well, Casey brought it up, actually, but Alex would have.

---

"So, I talked to Rita," Casey'd said almost before she shut the door behind her.

"Good evening to you, too, baby," Alex said, greeting her in the entranceway, kissing her sweetly. Casey smiled into it. Casey broke the kiss and walked towards their living room, her body aching for a comfortable seat. Alex walked behind her, pinching her (lovely perfect gorgeous) ass, causing her wife to yelp in the silly way she reserved for Alex alone. Casey always flopped onto the couch, which had originally annoyed Alex. She'd once insisted Alex try it, and while she did not move to change her habits, she admitted to seeing the appeal.

Alex, having followed Casey to the couch, bypassed the ample seating and chose the same side as her wife, who was sitting against the arm rather than the back, providing a perfect avenue for Alex to make her way up her body, continuing what she'd started. When Casey moaned, Alex got up and walked to the kitchen, ignoring Casey's whines. Alex picked up the plates where she'd put dinner (ok, it was carryout, but still, plates!) and joined Casey, another habit that was Casey's first, this one she was happy to go along with.

Casey and Alex sat on the floor, playing quiet music and making their usual conversation, routine and comforting.

"So, you talked to Rita?"

"Mm, mmhmm," Casey said, Alex having caught her mid-asparagus-bite. They laughed. "Yeah, I talked to Rita. She almost broke my door down to ask if I was sleeping with Caroline.”

Alex paled, “I was just talking to Serena about the same thing.”A panicked look flashed across Casey’s eyes. “Oh god, no, I don’t think you’re cheating on me. I mean, I went to Serena’s to be all emotional about Caroline.”

“I nearly cried.”

“In front of Rita Calhoun? And she didn’t melt?”

Casey scoffed, “She’s made me cry so many times.”

“I try to forget that fact,” Alex said.

“Fair enough. Anyway, apparently, her prowess in deductive reasoning led her to believe that I was having an affair.”

“A one-sided affair, that’s new.”

“Two-sided, unless both of us are only one side.”

“Two-sided implies there’s something there.”

“Isn’t there?”

“Isn’t that it.”

“Yeah.”

They both picked at their salads, wondering why Alex had bought salad. Casey looked up at the ceiling, Alex looked down, fiddled with the rug. Alex skipped a couple songs on her phone.

“Casey, what are we going to do about this. I don’t, I mean, I think, um.”

“I don’t know. I guess, our options are, pursue what we want or don’t and get over it.”

“If you put it that way,” Alex said, pausing, “I think we need to know what we want.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you. I want us both to be really happy, and I want her.”

Casey took a sip of her wine, agreeing with her fingertips, taking Alex’s hand. “You said what I was thinking.”

“What do you want, though? Serena said this thing about me being upset over a threesome we haven’t had and I kind of thought like, I don’t think I just want sex, um. I don’t know if that’s how you feel.”

“I do feel that way, actually, Lex.”

Casey held their hands up to her cheek, kissed Alex’s.

“So we’re pursuing that?”

“So we’re pursuing that.”

“What if,” Alex started. Casey responded with a shrug, and Alex thoughtfully nodded.

---

So, they were pursuing it. What that was going to mean was unclear as of the moment Alex saw you being very cute in the hallway, but they’d agreed that they wanted some kind of relationship, romantic, sexual. They wouldn’t want it if you only wanted one of them, they wouldn’t want just sex. It all would work out, Alex hoped. Casey was more confident than she was, but Alex had more of a cautious spirit when it came to relationships. They were well balanced. Alex hoped (and hoped and hoped) that you would want them. She gave herself a few more moments to smile, then turned back to her work.

Despite Anderson’s impressions and what Alex saw, you were not, in fact, feeling good. It was the middle of summer, but you couldn’t get warm. It’s just a cold, you thought, as you held your hands against the warmth of the coffee. Your cases were getting overwhelming, and you couldn’t afford to take any time off right now, not even to be sick in bed. Getting sick in the summer was exactly your luck.

A knock on your door startled you. You quickly collected your composure, turned on your peppy demeanor (you told the truth to Anderson: you learned how to seem OK a long time ago).

“Hey,” Casey said. “Are you in court at all today?”

You shook your head. “No, just paperwork, research. Why?”

Casey shrugged. “Thought you might want to have lunch or something.”

“I ate already,” you lied. You just didn’t want to request a place that served chicken soup. Your appetite had disappeared. “Sorry,” you said with an apologetic smile. “You want some coffee?” you asked, gesturing to the full pot.

“Sure, actually. The setup is a smart idea.”

“Isn’t it?” you said, getting up to pour two cups. “My apologies for the lack of sugar and cream.”

“Ah, it’s ok.” Casey said, accepting the cup and sitting down across from you in the extra chair. “No honey?”

“Alex told you,” You said, smiling, and Casey nodded. “It’s more of a special occasion thing.”

You watched her blow on the drink, her lips pursed over the top of it. They were a lovely shade of pink, you decided. She stuck her tongue out a bit when she took a sip, like a butterfly and its proboscis, you thought. You promptly scolded yourself for thinking that sort of thing at work. You had been considering Ramin’s advice, to “use your feminine wiles” on Casey and Alex, make them want you so bad that they believed it was their idea. It was sneaky and exciting. You’d resolved to start doing tiny, almost unnoticeable things around them (however convincing they could be when congested). Before you sat, you brushed your hand along your hip; as you held your mug, you ran your fingers along the handle.

“How’s your day going?” you asked her, knowing she’d had lots of tough cases recently. SVU had brought you on as a junior ADA because with the rising awareness of sexually-based crimes (a good inconvenience), the caseloads had risen to an all-time height, even after they brought Gillian back in to cover some cases. They were both very relieved that the gamble the office had taken in hiring a young person, whose experience had mostly been in property crimes, had worked out. It stood to reason, Casey had pushed for a younger lawyer, knowing first hand how much of a strength that could be; and when Alex had seen two Stanford degrees on your C.V., she felt sure too. You’d been a good choice. Still, you were all four overextended.

“Eh, it’s been fine, all things considered,” Casey replied. She watched as you fiddled with the tips of your hair. You’d begun wearing it curly more often, which had proven to be somewhat distracting for her. “How good can any day be in this line of work.”

You agreed with a nod. “I was just talking to Anderson about that.”

“What did he have to say?” Casey asked, knowing the attorney’s propensity for putting his foot in his mouth.

“I feel for the guy. I think he’s having trouble in homicide. He called me bubbly.”

“You are bubbly.”

“I’m energetic.”

“He should transfer to white collar. He’s got the attitude for it.”

You squinted your eyes scoldingly. “You would know.”

“I would.” The two of you broke into much-needed laughter. You were about halfway through your cup, but wished you were at the beginning again. “Was it hard?” you asked, “moving from white collar to sex crimes? I mean, just the level of emotional complication required, it must be so different from all that, detail.”

“It’s the hardest thing I think I’ll ever do in my professional life, yes.” Casey always looked you right in the eye, it was intense, the way she never averted her gaze. You tended to shift your gaze around rooms, taking in details, never resting on anything for too long. People sometimes wondered if you were paying attention, and explaining that looking them in the eye made it harder to listen didn’t work. Casey never cared, or at the very least never brought it up, just let you be the way you were. She set her coffee cup down. “I cried in my office my first day, in front of Olivia. I practically begged Arthur Branch to reassign me. I had wanted homicide, major cases. You know, all the glory less of the gore.”

“Have you ever regretted it since?”

“Never long enough to think about leaving. Voluntarily, that is,” she stated with a smile, referencing her suspension. You didn’t know all that much about what had happened, and you let her talk with a warm and open demeanor. “In all honesty, I needed that suspension to rewire my brain, I was drowning. And it didn’t last as long as I thought it would. That’s actually when I got together with Alex,” she said, smiling again, wider this time. “In a stupid hipster bar. She had brown hair at the time, I almost didn’t recognize her.”

“Please tell me you have pictures of brunette Alex Cabot.”

“Oh, I do, but they’re all buried deep in different camera rolls…” she trailed off in memories, “I’ll find them for you when I need to embarrass her. I, for one, liked the brown, but she can be very self-conscious.”

“You wouldn’t guess that when you meet her.”

“No, you really wouldn’t. But, Caroline,” Casey said, and hearing your name out of her mouth never failed to give you butterflies, “truly, I don’t think ‘like’ is an appropriate word for what I, what we do, but I feel called to it.”

“I think I do too.”

“Retention rates in this field are low. You’ve already outlasted them. I think that’s proof enough.”

You finished your coffee and brought your mug to the little table where you kept it. How you had such a messy desk but such a tidy coffee space evaded Casey, and probably told her more about you than you’d like. Alex walked by your office coming back from a meeting, pleased to see you and Casey conversing in the junior office. Casey finished her coffee shortly after you did. She met Alex in the hallway.

---

“Counselor, do you need a tissue?” Judge Catano said to you in an irritated tone in chambers the next day, apparently after one sniffle too many.

“Or a nap,” John Buchanan added under his breath as you pulled a nearly empty packet out of your suit pocket and wiped your nose.

“Thank you for your concern, I assure you both that I am quite alright.”

---

“Go home, get some sleep. Your cases will be there in the morning.” Alex said the evening after that, passing by the open door to your office on her way out.

“I won’t stay long,” you replied, knowing full-well that you would.

---

The day after that, Anderson got in your way at the wrong time and found himself unfortunately sneezed on.

---

You made it to Friday, and despite what you were telling yourself, you kept getting sicker. Every day was like time couldn’t decide between speeding and slowing down. Sometimes, you’d look up from what felt like ten minutes of work and an hour had passed, sometimes a meeting that felt like an hour was only ten minutes. And you still had work to do. Casey tapped on the door, unsurprised, again, to find you were the only one there. Anderson had left about a half hour ago, the other juniors often left right at 5:00.

“Hey,” she called from the doorway.

“Yeah?” You replied, looking at her over the top of your laptop.

“Come work in my office?” She asked. You’d taken to working with her or Alex or both of them in the evenings, with the general idea that many heads make light work. Or something. Really, for you, it was just a good excuse to spend time together.

“Sure,” you replied, “meet you there.” She walked off as you packed up your things. You were a bit woozy as you stood up from your desk. Oh well, that was how it went. You made yourself comfortable in Casey’s office (Alex, she explained, was off picking up some documents at the precinct).

You shivered in your seat on the couch, you blew your nose Casey eyed you, having noticed how you’d been sniffling all week. “Allergies? I have some Zyrtec somewhere in this desk,” she said, opening her drawer up to look.

“Oh, no, I’m not allergic to anything, I just didn’t,” sniff, “sleep well last night.”

This was an attitude Casey knew well.

---

Alex always liked summer evenings in the city. Yes, the smell required some getting used to, it could get noisy and crowded, but something about the way the orange light (that lasted longer than any other time of year) played off the tall buildings, the metal vendors on the sidewalk-- it just got to her, made her enjoy the walks she took from place to place. She checked her notifications on the way back from the precinct.

Casey: Caroline is sitting in my office sniffling and looking pale.

Alex: “Allergies?”

Casey: She denies them.

Alex: So the cold she’s had all week caught up to her?

Casey: Can you pick up some meds and we can make her go home?

Alex: I mean, good luck to us…

Casey: Alex.

Alex sighed and crossed the street, ducking into a Duane Reed for the requisite illness package. convincing you to take advantage of it was going to be a wholly different task.

When she arrived back at the office, she discovered a different scene than she expected. As she reached Casey’s office door with the supplies, her wife caught her eye through the window, motioning at her to be quiet when she came in. Alex was, and saw you, on Casey’s couch, deeply asleep with your fingers still on your laptop keyboard, typing endless spaces in a Word document.

“Well,” Alex whispered, coming to Casey’s side, leaning against her desk. “That’s certainly adorable.”

“I couldn’t bring myself to wake her up,” Casey said, “poor thing.” Alex looked at you, your curls flipped up over your forehead, your pink cheeks, your pile of work beside you. A warm sense of nostalgia lit up inside her.

“Remember, when we first came back to the DA’s office,” Alex said, seeing Casey smile playfully, the same feelings building in her chest.

“And there was a horrible bug going around the office,” Casey continued, telling the story for her wife.

“And I refused to admit I’d gotten it,”

“And I found you asleep, with your head on a legal pad,” Casey squeezed Alex’s hand.

“Because I was late to a meeting,” Alex tucked a strand of hair behind Casey’s ear.

“And when you lifted your head up, your forehead was covered in ink,” Casey finished the story with a grin, teasing her wife. “Yeah, I remember that. And I remember trying and failing to get you home, and I remember you getting me sick.”

“Only because you couldn’t keep yourself from kissing me,” Alex said. Casey just shrugged, acknowledging that her wife was correct. They had no need to say what they both were thinking, and, in fact, no time.

You stirred, stretching out, very sleepily. They snapped out of their reverie. “Hey, you two,” you said, your voice nasal. “You guys are so cute,” you continued, still not quite awake, you said what was on your mind. You felt a bit voyeuristic, but you didn’t mind. “Sorry for eavesdropping,” you said, waking up more fully, “sorry I fell asleep, Casey,” you said. You started to pull the notes you were looking at back up to your lap, but as you picked them up, you noticed someone else was holding the other end. Alex had a grip on them, and you were too weak to resist as she picked up all your papers and put them back in your bag.

“Laptop,” she said, holding out her hand. You gave it to her, looking to the side, embarrassed. She held out a packet containing two pills. “Take these,” she said, giving you a bottle of water as well. You wanted to protest, tell her that you were perfectly capable of getting what you had left done, but as you looked at her, then across the room to Casey, you realized that not only would any attempt be futile, you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in your bed and stay there until you didn’t feel like this anymore. You nodded.

Casey’s voice came from behind Alex, gentle. Still raspy, but more than quiet, sympathetic, understanding-- gentle, a tone meant to be heard from close by and listened to in earnest. “Please take care of yourself.”

Who could refuse that?

---

Alex accompanied you on the cab ride home. Casey genuinely had work she had to finish, and neither of them was about to let you ride your bike or take the subway in your state. You lived in Brooklyn, but close enough to the courthouse that you didn’t feel too guilty about accepting her help when she offered. You tried to make conversation, but you were simply too tired to talk much, and as the sun finished setting, you arrived at the townhouse. Ashley and Ramin lived in the three bedroom unit on the first floor while you lived in the one bedroom unit on the second. It was really a glorified studio, the bedroom was just big enough for a queen-sized bed, the living room barely fit a couch, and the kitchen was mostly good for making tea; but that was why you had a key to your best friends’ apartment. You hesitated on the steps in the still warm air, considering if it would be a bad idea to ask Alex to come up the rest of the way with you, but she had clearly already made up her mind to do so (she had not bought all those supplies for nothing).

Your apartment was cozy, Alex thought as she placed the medicines and magazines and bottles of Gatorade in convenient spots in your tiny kitchen. You went straight for the bathroom, using what energy you had to change into pajamas, brush your teeth, and wash your face. Not much food in the fridge, lots of coffee and tea. A little table covered in papers and books; some law journals, some fantasy novels, some picture books. There were stuffed animals in a bin beside the couch, a couple clearly old enough to be yours. You had one of the fluffiest rugs she’d ever seen and enough throw pillows to drown in, and candles all over the place. Your walls were covered in art; some clearly original abstract pieces signed R.R, some prints from the MoMA, old post cards and family photos (only a couple of your siblings, but countless of Ashley and his family, dancers too), and kids’ drawings, all displayed together, given equal weight. It made no sense aesthetically, technically, but everything about the place screamed Caroline, so she found herself enamored with it.

You emerged from the bathroom with your hair tied on top of your head, wearing an oversized tee and fuzzy pants. It wasn’t your usual choice, but being sick had you feeling like everything around you needed to be soft and cuddly. Alex showed you where she placed everything she’d bought for you, but as she talked, your (maybe feverish) focus could only follow her beautiful blue eyes as they followed your own. You felt warmth, gratitude; you watched her seem concerned and adoring all at once. This whole scenario; Alex in your apartment while the stars were out, taking care of you, seeing you in your pajamas, sniffling and blushing, it made no sense when you thought about it. Yet, it seemed perfectly natural to you, having her in your place. Part of you wanted to kiss her then and there, pull her into your bed and try to get her to cuddle, but, of course, those were not thoughts you shared out loud. Instead, you expressed your gratitude as emphatically as your could manage.

“Get some sleep, Caroline.”

“I will. Alex, thank you.”

---

Alex made you take the following Monday and Tuesday off. Since she didn’t technically have that ability, you responded to her texts by telling her as much. Then, she got Jack McCoy to email you the same sentiments, and that, you couldn’t fight. You arrived at work on Wednesday refreshed, well-rested, and decidedly not sniffly, and she was only a little bit smug. She all but said “I told you so” when you said hello that morning-- but you very quickly shut her up by giving her a smile and an eye roll, taking pride and pleasure in the tiny bite of her lip you saw flash by as you returned to your desk.

That afternoon, you were happy to run into Serena Southerlyn on the courthouse steps, her leaving as you and Alex were returning (there was a case you were working together, you as second chair). She greeted Alex with a professional hug, you with a warm handshake. She had a glint in her eyes, something mischievous about her when she asked, after the usual workplace pleasantries, “you’ll both be there tomorrow, right? For drinks? Gillian said she had something to celebrate, I bet she got accepted to one of those PhD programs.”

“Casey and I will be,” Alex said, looking to you. You tucked a curl behind your ear, another habit of yours she’d noticed, when you were worried.

“I’ll certainly try,” you said, happy that you were now getting regular invitations to drinks, “I promised I’d help Ophélie’s mock trial team prepare for this weekend, she gets pretty nervous about them.”

“They have mock trial that young?” Serena asked.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cute too. A bunch of 12-year-olds in suits using legal language.” As you spoke, Alex understood a little better, Casey’s perspective on children. She chuckled lightly.

“Is she the prosecution or the defense?” asked Alex. You groaned in response.

“Don’t remind me. She chose defense specifically to spite me, and now I go to her school twice a month to teach her how to do it.”

“I think I like this kid,” Serena said. “But I really hope you can make it tomorrow.”

“I’ll do what I can,” you said, knowing you would likely be able to go, but not wanting to promise anything.

“Good,” Serena said as she started walking down the steps again. She turned around when she was struck with an idea. Alex had told her about her and Casey’s ideas, but, frankly, she felt like they were not moving fast enough, and having known them both for years, knew how they needed a push sometimes to go for what they wanted. You and Alex had only gone a few steps, so you didn’t miss the swoosh of blonde hair coming back towards you.

“I remembered,” Serena said, “ I was going to ask you, Caroline, are you going to any salsa nights again soon?” You looked taken aback as she clarified, “I’ve wanted to pick it back up for a little while. I was going to ask last time but the conversation moved too fast.”

“You dance salsa?” Alex asked, blindsided. Serena nodded, an implied obviously in her expression. “When did you learn?” She asked again, knowing that Serena’s upbringing had been astonishingly similar to hers as far as old money and conservative attitudes went.

“Study abroad.”

You let it be quiet for a short moment, seeing Alex and Serena communicate with looks, something panicked in Alex’s and something scheming in Serena’s. You filed the moment away to think about later.

“Yes, actually, I think I’m going to one on Saturday, in Brooklyn as usual,” you said, testing the waters of their reactions. “Ashley’s still on tour so I was going to see if one of my old teammates would want to go with me,” you said. Alex squinted her eyes slightly, Serena knit her fingers together as you spoke. “But if you would like to, Serena,” you decided to just go for the invite, “we should go together.”

You thought you saw a flicker of jealousy from Alex when Serena enthusiastically accepted your invitation. You couldn’t be quite sure, but it was enough hope to leave another little piece of you burning.

---

@addictedtodinosaurs @nocreditinthestraightworld @sweetprentiss

remindr to sign up for my tagłist if you vvant to be tagged in these! (some of my keys are broken)

#svu #svu fanfic #law and order svu fanfic #alex cabot #casey novak #serena southerlyn #rita calhoun #casey novak x reader #alex cabot x reader #alex cabot x casey novak x reader #ofc #schemes!!!!#matchmaking #calex #calex x reader #please rb and 1ike

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impala666 · 3 years

Text

The One With Mrs. Bing Part One: She’s Back

Here we are. The episode I have been very excited about. Enjoy!

Friends rewrite (masterlist) Last Part (The One With The Monkey Part 4)

Last night you had slept on the couch, you just wanted a little bit of your own space. During the night it had been nice, but now you were laying on your stomach with your face buried in your pillow trying to sleep. While you could hear Chandler making breakfast and drinking coffee before he headed off to work. You had to work yourself at the store in a few hours, but you just didn’t want to get up yet. The only thing that was going to help make your day was that you didn’t have that long of a shift anyway. So you’d work for a few hours and then spend many more hours with your friends just hanging out. Finally, you decided that enough was enough and it was time for you to get up and face your day. So rolling onto your back you let out a loud sigh and pushed the blankets off of you before you managed to make it to your feet. “Good morning, sunshine!” Chandler optimistically greeted you. You stopped at the peninsula of the counter and just glared at him, with your hair a big tangled mess which only made him smile more. “What?” He asked you, taking a sip from his coffee cup.

“You’re just being really cheery and I thought that was weird.” You shrugged it off though and entered the kitchen to get your own cup of coffee.

“Where’s Joey?” Chandler asked.

“Not sure.” You answered honestly. “Probably still sleeping would be my guess.”

“How’s that going? I know you wanted to slow down, is that good?” Your big brother asked, just to check in on you.

“It’s been going great! He’s been surprisingly understanding and incredibly supportive. It’s just nice to have people who support me instead of trying to tear me down.” You smiled as you sat down across from him at the table.

“And you’re always going to from now on. Besides, if anyone knows about leaving home to pursue a career path that doesn’t meet the parents expectations other than you, it would definitely be Joey.” Chandler smiled at you in proudness and supportiveness.

“I know,” you told him with a small smile. For once in your life it was nice to know that if you fell, you had friends there to catch you and help you get back on your feet. You never had that with your parents; you could barely remember your dad before he got a divorce from your mom who was hardly ever home to begin with. All you really ever had was Chandler, at least you had him up until the moment your mom shipped him off to boarding school and then you were basically all alone until now. “And thanks for bringing up the whole disappointed parent thing.” You smiled at him in sarcastic thanks.

“You are welcome,” Chandler chuckled along with your sarcasm. Then the both of you just continued to talk about your daily lives until Chandler had to go to work and you unfortunately had to start getting ready.

********

All of you were finally done with your work day, so all of you went over to Monica and Rachel’s for some dinner all together telling each other about your day, to your surprise Phoebe and Monica had quite an exciting one. They caused a man they thought was attractive to be hit by an ambulance. “There are no conscious men in the city for you two?” Chandler asked, leaning against the couch as he silently judged his friends.

“He doesn’t have anyone,” Monica defended herself and Phoebe.

“Yeah. We feel kind of responsible.” Phoebe agreed.

“I mean,” you started all high pitched, but when you felt Joey put his hand on your waist from behind you, you stopped when you heard him chuckle.

“I can’t believe you said woo-hoo.” Joey added as he kept laughing slightly. “I don’t even say woo-hoo.”

“Oh! She’s coming up!” Rachel announced to everyone as she grabbed the TV remote and turned the volume up. Everyone else was excited to see who was going to be on the screen, but you and Chandler couldn’t help but make eye contact and roll your eyes.

“When we come back we’ll be talking about her new book, Euphoria Unbound. The always interesting Nora Tyler Bing. You might want to put the kids to bed for this one.” Jay Leno announced as he lifted up his copy of your mothers latest erotic novels. You couldn’t help but feel sadder and sadder the more he talked about her before they went to commercial. Ross, Monica, and Joey sat next to you with big excited smiles on their faces. Chandler already didn’t want to watch this but when he saw you drooping into the couch and your smile falling into a frown with a sad look on his face, he knew he couldn’t take it any longer. He knew you hadn’t heard from your mother since you moved out because he hadn’t either.

“We don’t have to watch this.” Chandler decided enough was enough. “Weekend at Bernie’s is on Showtime, HBO, and Cinemax.” He announced the change of TV as he picked up the remote.

“Come on, she’s your guys’s mom.” Joey complained in surprise that neither of you wanted to watch your mom on one of the biggest talk shows in America. The fact that Joey didn’t see why you were upset made you just that much more upset.

“Exactly. Weekend at Bernie’s! Dead guy getting hit in the groin 20, 30 times!” Chandler tried one last time for the sake of both of you.

“Guys.” Rachel beamed to you and Chandler. “I love your mom’s books. I cannot get on a plane without one. I mean, this is so cool.” Rachel was practically giddy when she found out that your mom was the author of her favorite novels.

“You wouldn’t think so if you were 11 years old and all your friends are passing around page 79 of Mistress Bitch.” Chandler relayed. You would have jumped in on the conversation too, because man did you have a million stories, but you just couldn’t think of any. Plus because of recent events you weren’t really in the mood to talk.

“Yeah, Chandler. I love your mom. I think she's a blast.” Ross spoke, apparently on the side Rachel was on. That your mother was this fun, wonderful person.

“Yeah, you say that because she’s not your mom.” You finally mumbled loud enough for all of them to hear you. They all turned to look at you, and for the first time they were seeing how hard this was for you. Ross immediately stopped talking, Monica and Phoebe looked at each other not sure if they should say something, and Joey wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you a little closer to his side. It made you feel slightly better, but you just wanted to run and hide under the covers in Joey’s bed for at least a week. But when the others heard kissing noises, they all turned around to see that Paolo was here and was practically eating Rachel’s face off of her body.

“When did Rigatoni get back from Rome?” Ross asked, now adding to the sad party you were having.

“Last night.” Monica answered him.

“Really? So then his plane didn’t explode in a ball of fire?” Ross asked, clearly not jealous at all. “Just a dream I had. But phew.” He thought would be funny to say out loud.

“Hey! Hey! She’s on!” Apparently Phoebe was also excited about all of this, and Joey left you and was now on the edge of his seat on the couch.

“Ah! Nora Bing!” Paolo yelled in excitement, much to your dismay as you watched your mom walk onto the screen, waving at the audience on the other side of the camera.

“Before we get to the book, now what is this about you being arrested in London? What’s that all about?” Jay Leno asked your mother, which had you rolling your eyes at that piece that was news to you.

“Your mom was arrested?” Phoebe laughed with astonishment.

“Shh, I’m busy beaming with pride.” Chandler told her, which clearly wasn’t accurate.

“This is kind of embarrassing, but occasionally, after I’ve been intimate with a man..” your mom started her answer.

“Why would she say that’s embarrassing?” You masked your pain with fake humor. To which everyone ‘shhed’ you.

“I just get this craving for kung pao chicken.” Your mom proudly answered for everyone.

“That’s too much information!” Chandler yelled at the TV.

“So now you’re doing this whole book tour thing. How’s that going?” Leno asked her.

“Oh, fine. I’m leaving for New York tomorrow, which I hate. But I get to see my kids, who I love.” Your mom smiled proudly, but it was hard to tell from the botox that she had gotten done. But all that you could focus on was the fact that she was coming here. She was coming here, to New York, after everything that had happened, and that was the way you had to find out. You were dying on the inside. But all your friends around you and your boyfriend all awwed for you and your brother. You crossed your arms tighter over your chest, wishing you could be anywhere else right now.

“Oh, this is how we find out.” Chandler yelled, sounding like he was pissed. “Most mom’s use the phone.”

“You know, I…”Jay Leno started saying as he got comfortable in his seat. But he also seemed like he didn’t want to offend your mom.“Don’t take this the wrong way, I just don’t see you as a mom somehow. I don’t mean that bad.”

“Oh, no.” Your mom scoffed while looking at the audience. “I am a fabulous mom. I bought my kids their first condoms.” Half of your friends turned to look at your brother while the other half turned to look at you with your hand over your eyes in embarrassment. You then just decided that you couldn’t handle it anymore and ran out of Monica’s apartment and to yours, and to Joey’s bed so you could hide. You were just glad that you managed to avoid eye contact with all of them. However, Chandler was just standing there completely mortified.

“And then he burst into flames.” Chandler said to himself as he felt like he was dying on the inside.

#friends rewrite #Joey Tribbiani #bing!reader #sister!bing #joey tribbiani x reader #chandler bing #ross geller #rachel green #phoebe buffay #monica geller

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dershloop · 3 years

Text

Best Friend

“It’s kinda sad really,” Jay said quietly, sighing and looking down at his hands, picking at the dry skin that cursed his knuckles.

“It’s not, Jay. Don’t be so hard on yourself, everyone has a crush on someone,” Kai said, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Not everyone has a crush on their best friend though,” Jay retorted, his shoulders sagging further, dragging his posture down with it. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Just a moment. Imagining what it would be like to actually be held by him, to hold his hand, to smell his cologne, but not just from afar. To smell it right off of his skin. To see him put it on every morning. The cologne he’d bought him. It was weird and borderline creepy, but it was true. He was clear as day in love with Cole.

“You’d be surprised,” Kai muttered, thinking about similar conversations he’d had with Cole, both regarding Jay recently, and Zane in the past.

“You got Zane to go on a date with you though. At least then he liked you back. Me and Cole have been best friends for years now, there’s no way he’d want to be any more than that,” Jay sighed, “I may as well accept it; I am destined to die alone.”

“Ok that’s a bit extreme Sparky, take a breath,” Kai said, his eyes widening at the sudden escalation, “and you really would be surprised,” He said under his breath.

“What?” Jay said, creasing his brow and looking at Kai.

“What?”

“You said something.”

“Yeah to stop being so melodramatic.”

“No after that.”

“I didn’t.” Jay rolled his eyes and looked away, continuing to brood over unrequited love. Kai, however, had a plan.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it, seeing 2 of his best friends moping about assumably unrequited love; so Kai was going to be their cupid. The cupid that was probably going to be kicked in the balls for doing what he was about to do, but a cupid all the same. They’d thank him later. Hopefully.

“It’s been fun and all listening to you cry about Cole for half an hour Jay,” Kai said, standing up and stretching, “But! I have a life outside of your love life or lack thereof so I gotta go. Remember, just before I do go though,” Kai said, just before he opened the door, “Stop assuming things,” He finished, before leaving Jay with a wink and an empty room.

Jay sighed and flopped back onto his bed, staring up at his ceiling. It was an obsession, but not with a movie franchise. If you’re obsessed with a movie franchise or a TV show, people call you a dork and move on. When you’re obsessed with a person, however, people’s attitudes change a little, to say the least. It was taking over his entire being; He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. In reality, he was coming down with something. A sickness that was deadlier than a gun. He had caught a big old case of love and he hated it.

However, the detrimental thing about most illnesses; you catch them off of someone else.

Kai smiled to himself, walking to the living room where Cole was sat playing some new game he’d gotten himself. What he’d done to deserve a new video game? Truth be told, Kai didn’t know, but he figured it was probably something menial, such as not eating all the cake they had.

“What’re you smiling at?” Cole said, throwing his controller onto the couch next to him in frustration as some small enemy killed him.

“Oh nothing, my dear Coley,” Kai said, picking up the controller and moving it away from Cole, sitting down next to him with the smug grin still plastered on his face.

“Quit it.”

“No.”

“Short-ass i swear I’ll put your phone on top of the refrigerator again if you don’t tell me,” Cole said, reaching over him and snagging his controller back, continuing to play the game.

“Fine, fine I’ll tell you if you’re gonna be like that,” Kai said pouting, “It’s just that a little birdy was telling me all his earthly desires and guess who was on the list?”

“A little… what the hell are you talking about?” Cole said, sparing a quick glance over at his friend who was smirking exceptionally wide.

“You could say, a little blue Jay was telling me his earthly desires. More like pouring his heart out. Jeez, he really does wear his heart on his sleeve,” Kai said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. He was going to make Cole beg him for this answer or he was going to figure it out himself.

“Blue what? I- wait you were talking to Jay? Did he say anything about me?” Cole said, falling off the edge of the world in his game accidentally as all his concentration relating to it evaporated, throwing his controller on the floor and turning to face Kai.

“Not more than a lot.”

“In what way? Was it like ‘he’s a good bro’ or something else?”

“Ah well. You see Coley, I’m under a vow of silence. My lips are sealed,” He said, making the motion of zipping his lips with his hand, locking them and throwing away the key.

“Dude. Stop.”

“No, no Cole I can’t! He told me in confidence, I don’t want to betray his trust.”

“Kai Smith I swear to God I’ll throw you to the never realm if you don’t tell me and you know I could if I wanted to.”

“You wouldn’t and couldn’t.”

“I would and could, you’re a twink and weight like 120 pounds when wet. I could throw you into next week with enough will power so spill the beans.”

“Alright alright, I’ll spill,” Kai said, holding his hands up in mock defeat as if he wasn’t already going to tell him eventually, “He’s totally into you dude.”

“You aren’t fucking with me?” Cole said, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping as a small blush crept into his cheeks and tips of his ears.

“Nah man, I wouldn’t do that,” Kai said shrugging innocently.

“Knowing you, you totally would,” Cole said, creasing his brow suspiciously.

“Nah bro I’d never. That’s a low blow, even for me but I’m being totally serious.”

“Pinky promise?” Cole said, feeling the butterflies in his stomach begin to reemerge and take over his entire being.

“Pinky promise. Now go talk to him, he’s convinced himself he’s gonna die alone so I don’t know if he should be left alone for too long.” Cole just laughed and jumped up, tripping over his controller and stumbling a little as he dashed towards the stairs, practically running up them on all fours. He stood at Jay’s door and composed himself, taking a deep breath and raising his hand to knock.

“Come in!” Jay’s voice rang from the other side of the door. Cole took another breath, the butterflies in his stomach making their way into his bloodstream, causing every part of him to tingle and tense in anticipation.

“It’s now or never Cole,” He muttered, wrapping his hand around the doorknob and twisting it, walking into Jay’s room.

“Oh, hey Cole,” Jay said with a small smile as he sat up on his bed, “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing much new anyway. What’s up with you?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing important anyway,” Jay said with a chuckle, putting his phone down and swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and looking Cole up and down nervously, “Is there something you needed?”

“Huh? Oh! No no, it’s just- I just- Kai was telling me something and I kinda wanted to talk to you about it,” Cole said, his muscles further tensing as he fiddled with his hands, refusing to look Jay in the eyes. He knew if he looked up, Jay would see how red his face had gone. All the confidence he’ had downstiars with Kai was evaporated, he didn’t know what to say. How do you tell someone your friend told them their in love with you and you feel the same? Even further, how do you tell that to your best friend?

“What- What did Kai tell you?” Jay said nervously, his stomach doing a flip and nearly sending the contents of it back out onto his bedroom floor.

“I- well- here’s the thing he told me you- He said you… liked me,” Cole said, squeezing his eyes shut, afraid of what was coming next. He knew he needed to look up at Jay; if he didn’t, he knew he’d construe his actions negatively. Lifting his head up slowly, Jay was sat staring at him dumbfounded, his face a bright shade of pink. He looked like he was about to cry, throw up or both.

“I- well you know how Kai is, talks out his ass a lot so-” Jay said quickly, rubbing the stray tears out of his eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d told him. Kai had told Cole so now he was stood there, in his room, looking insanely uncomfortable and ready to tell him he didn’t want to be friends anymore. Jay could feel his lunch tossing around, threatening to make a reappearance. He couldn’t even feel mad, he just wanted to throw up and cry.

“That’s the thing, I uh- he promised me he was telling the truth,” Cole said, trying his best to smile, albeit nervously at Jay in an attempt to further tell him he wasn’t mad, though it didn’t seem to be working, so he quickly added, “and I- I won’t lie because we’re best friends and have been for years but like if it is true I- I wouldn’t be upset I’d actually be very- quite- pretty happy.” Cole looked down again and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to hide from his impending doom.

“Wait… Seriously?” Jay said, a fresh batch of tears, happy ones this time, swelled in his eyes.

“Yeah…” Cole said slowly, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and biting into it until it began to bleed.

“Well in that case… Kai wasn’t lying,” Jay said, standing up and walking towards Cole slowly. Cole looked up and saw Jay moving towards him. He took in a deep breath and smiled, his own eyes pricking with tears. Jay looked in Cole’s eyes and wrapped his hands around his waist, resting his head against his chest.

Cole’s breath hitched, he panicked and lifted his arms slightly, before taking a deep breath and placing his arms over his shoulders and wresting his head on top of Jay’s. He looked up at him. Their faces were very close.

“Jay walker would you like to be my boyfriend?” Cole whispered. His breath was cool and fresh, with an after scent of coffee and what he assumed was chocolate.

“Cole Brookstone I’d be delighted to be your boyfriend,” Jay said with a smile.

“Would- would you mind if I kissed you?” Cole said, not wanting to overstep any boundaries already.

“Come here you softy,” Jay said, pushing his lips against Cole’s hard and fast. Cole jumped and his eyes shot open in surprise before he slowly sunk into the kiss and moved his hand up to Jay’s face and holding it gently as if it were some priceless artefact. Which it was. To him.

Kai sat smiling smugly to himself. He’d heard the majority of their conversation, he figured as cupid he deserved to know what happened, so not long after Cole had raced upstairs, he’d snuck after and positioned himself near the top step, low enough that no one could see him. Eventually, when he’d realised where the conversation was going and that they seemed to be handling it… decently at best, he made his way back downstairs and had positioned himself back on the couch, smugly grinning at the idea that he’d just made two love birds realise they were into each other. Nice.

“What’re you smiling about?” Zane said cautiously, sitting next to Kai on the couch and taking his hand subconsciously.

“I! Just got Cole and Jay to confess to each other!” Kai said proudly, smiling at Zane as if he’d just cured world hunger. Zane chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“Someone had to say something eventually. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people pinning so hard and so obviously but neither of them notice. It’s crazy to think it didn’t happen sooner.”

“You do realise I tried dropping so many hints to you that I liked you right? But you were too boneheaded to pick up on any of those hints,” Kai said, raising his eyebrows with a laugh.

“In my defense you are also incredibly boneheaded, and those ‘hints’ you’re talking about could have been construed in anyway so stop it,” Zane said, looking over at Kai.

“Good thing you’re moronsexal,” Kai said softly, moving his face closer to Zane’s.

“It’s a good thing I am, I don’t know how I’d deal with you otherwise,” Zane said softly back, lifting a hand to Kai’s cheek and cupping it softly, pressing their lips together, closing his eyes.

All is right in the world, Kai thought as he kissed Zane, their bodies getting closer, any kind of distance between them was too much. To make it even better, he knew full well Cole and Jay were probably doing the exact same thing in Jay’s room.

#bruise #bruiseshipping #cole/jay #jay/cole #ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago zane #ninjago jay #ninjago jay walker #bruise fics by zan #oppositeshipping #opposite #zane/kai #kai/zane #ninjago kai smith #ninjago zane julien #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #ninjago cole brookstone

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

Wait for me on the other side 6/8

Summary:

Mobius must face both his past and a brutal news. He opens his heart to Loki. Loki wonders about what connects them...

Notes:

Prepare some tissues...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82394134

House on the cliff - 2019

Mobius returned home, patiently awaited by Croki. While he was feeding him, he noticed that he had a message on his answering machine.

"Mobius, pick up, I have something to tell you. It's about Ravonna."

Forty-five minutes after Casey's call, Mobius rushed into the hospital.

He headed to the admissions office and spoke to the first person who came in.

"Hello, I'm looking for Ravonna Renslayer. I'm Mr. Mobius."

"Hold on a moment."

The young woman consulted her computer and looked up.

"Yes. Mr. Mobius. You are expected in Doctor Cho's general medicine department."

She pointed in the right direction.

When he arrived at the ward, he asked for Dr. Cho.

He waited a few minutes and a woman approached him, holding out her hand.

"Hello Mr. Mobius, I am Dr. Cho, I am the one who takes care of Mrs. Renslayer. Since you were the person to notify in case of an emergency, we called you."

"What happened? Is she okay?"

Dr. Cho motioned for him to follow her, "She's fine. She had a relatively minor collapse, but we'll have to keep her for a day or two, wait for the results of the tests we did. Since you are her only family according to her file, even for something minor we had to call you. I'll take you to her room."

Casey was waiting outside Ravonna's room when Mobius arrived with Dr. Cho. They embraced.

"How is she?" Mobius asked.

"You know her..." replied Casey, shaking his head. "I had to bring her some work, the latest reports from the financial department."

Mobius looked disbelieving and laughed, "Of course. The last thing we would want to do is let a little collapse endanger the company."

Mobius entered the room quietly. Ravonna laid on her bed, connected to monitoring devices, reading her reports and making annotations, papers scattered around her on her bed. She didn't hear him right away, and when she raised her head, she lowered the report but didn't put it down.

"Hi.", Mobius whispered.

Ravonna did not smile, simply nodded and continued to work on her files as if Mobius were not there.

After a while, she said, "I don't need you."'

Mobius simply replied, "I'm going to stay until your exam results come in."

"That's not until tomorrow morning."

"I'm not going to drive all the way home that late. I'm staying."

Ravonna shrugged and returned to her reading. The silence was deafening.

After a moment, Mobius picked up one of the magazines about expensive watches that was on the table and asked, "Do you mind if I..."

Ravonna shook her head, "Go ahead. If you're still interested in that kind of thing."

Mobius didn't look up and began flipping through the magazine.

When he looked up about ten minutes later, Ravonna was asleep. Mobius watched her breathe in the dimly lit room, the monitoring devices flashing silently. He picked up the papers scattered on the bed and stacked them neatly on the nightstand.

Then he sat down, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in the hospital room chair. Since this was impossible, he picked up a piece of paper and began to write to Loki.

I know I haven't written in a while.

But I need to... I wanted to tell you about someone who is very close to me. We are not related by blood, but I consider her to be family to me, like a big sister.

We grew up together in the orphanage.

She is well-known. You know her work... Ravonna Renslayer, the CEO of Time Keepers, the famous watch brand.

I always liked to put watches together and take them apart and Ravonna was good at putting things in the right light.

We decided to create Timekeepers when we were fourteen years old. We wanted to sell quality luxury watches that everyone could afford.

A dream of two orphans.

We promised ourselves that when we would be rich we would buy the house on the hill.

But Ravonna lost sight of our dreams and always wanted more. More money, more fame.

Mass production, overpriced watches, I had no pleasure in creating anymore.

Every meeting became a war zone.

Someone had to surrender. I did. I quit. Without notice.

That's when I started Miss Minutes, my little store and got back to my roots.

Mobius must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes, he was aching from his position in the chair.

Seeing that Ravonna was still asleep, he went to the hospital cafeteria to get a cup of coffee, and when he came back up fifteen minutes later, he saw Dr. Cho.

"Ah, Mr. Mobius, we just reviewed her results with Mrs. Renslayer. Unfortunately, she has forbidden me to talk to you about them and does not want you to visit her anymore."

Mobius was hurt of course, but not surprised either, given their tense relationship.

Dr. Cho, however, took pity on him. "I can't go into detail, but regrettably, you'll have to prepare for the worst."

Mobius' heart leapt in his chest and with a tight throat, he asked, "How long?"

Dr; Cho put her hand on his shoulder and said, " At any moment. I'm sorry."

Mobius left the hospital in a daze and drove to the house on the cliff. As soon as he arrived, he fed Croki, sat down in his chair and continued the letter to Loki. At this time, it was his only source of comfort.

Loki's apartment - 2021

Loki, in casual attire with Croki by his side, was sitting on his couch reading the letter from Mobius. He was very moved by the way Mobius opened up to him.

His heart cried at the sadness he felt in the letter. Obviously Ravonna was someone dear to his heart.

Once again, Loki was frustrated by the barrier of years between them. He wanted so much to be with Mobius, to support him. He sighed as he continued to read the letter.

I don't know what I expected.

Part of me thought that given her condition, I would get more than a "She doesn't want to see you anymore."

But of course, that's not how things work. When I left TK, I rejected everything she stood for.

That's how she saw it.

I think the fact that I bought the house cemented our disagreement for her and it's too late to change things now.

One thing is for sure: if I was really hoping for a tearful little bedside meeting, I'm as stupid as she thinks I am.

Well, good. I seem to have poured my little heart out here. I'm sorry.

Thanks for reading.

I want to tell you things I've never told anyone.

Things I didn't know myself until I wrote them down to send to you.

Maybe that's the strangest part of it all.

Love, Mobius.

Loki lingered on this letter, and especially on the last word, "LOVE". He patted Croki's head, thoughtful.

He had so many questions.

Love, Mobius.

Was it casual? Mobius was the kind of person who knew exactly what he was saying. Every word was important.

So the next question was, did Loki feel the same way?

Loki didn't need to reflect, he knew what he felt.

The question that remained was, did they have a future...?

Mobius' house - 2019

Croki trotted over to Mobius' bed. Mobius was lying down, unable to sleep, but it was too early to get up. He felt like picking up the phone but resisted.

Loki's apartment - 2021

Loki couldn't sleep anymore, something was disturbing him since he had read Mobius' letter.

He got up and went to his computer, he had to check one thing about Ravonna Renslayer.

Two minutes later he rushed out of his apartment and drove to the house on the cliff.

Mobius House - 2019

Mobius après s’être préparé pour aller au travail, sortit de sa maison et se dirigea vers son pickup.

Mobius House - 2021

Loki braked hard and ran to the mailbox. He put a piece of paper in it and raised the flag with a sudden movement.

Mobius House - 2019

Mobius drove away from the house without seeing the flag that was rising behind him. A few minutes later, his phone on the passenger seat began to ring.

Glancing down, he saw that it was Dr. Cho.

He pulled over to the side of the road and with a lump in his throat, took the call.

"Yes?"

-Mr. Mobius, this is Dr. Cho. I'm afraid I have some difficult news for you.

A few minutes later, in a daze, he parked in front of his house. On his way to his house. He saw that the flag was up.

He opened it, took the note, read it and then let his arm fall back, the paper flew away before landing further.

You need to go back to the hospital right away! Ravonna Renslayer died on-

A few days later, Mobius sat in the back of the church while the pastor preached to a crowd that Mobius knew was there more for Ravonna's fame than for their connection to her.

He didn't listen to the sermon and, clutching Loki's last letter in his pocket, he thought about what he had written.

Mobius, I'm so sorry about Ravonna.

Even though every pain is different, I know what it's like to lose the little family we have left.

I knew I had to at least try to warn you. I thought I could do it in time.

I hoped we could change what happened. I was wrong.

I guess these things can't be changed.

What I do know is that the shock is still fresh for me, even though it happened two years ago, so I can't imagine what it's like for you.

These things just happen...sometimes. I know.

Last February, I remember it was Valentine's Day, but it was really hot for a day in February.

I was at the fountain in Valhalheim Square.

And something happened. I won't bore you with the details now, but it was hard. Not like what you're going through, but it bothered me a lot.

And a friend gave me some good advice.

She told me to go to a place that would bring me peace.

That's what I did. I drove to the house on the cliff.

And that was the day I got your first letter.

It's a place we both love, a place that has a huge meaning for both of us, I hope you can find some solace there.

And I hope that what has kept you and Ravonna apart will eventually seem less important, and perhaps, in time, disappear.

YOURS, Loki.

Loki's words echoing in his head, Mobius was anxious to get to the house, to seek and perhaps find the solace that Loki spoke of.

When he arrived, he saw the flag raised. He opened the box, and took out not a note, but a book.

When he turned it over, his heart stopped for a moment.

For all times - Always by R.RENSLAYER

He returned home and sitting down in his chair, he opened it and saw first a small note from Loki's hand.

The book won't be published for a year.

or two, so don't show it to anyone. But I thought you should see it.

He turned the first page and could not stop the tears from flowing.

To Mobius

This is the story of a dream.

The story of a brother and sister bound by an ideal

But like all true stories, it doesn't always end well.

They chose a different path.

They drifted apart and never found each other again.

But without the presence of one in the life of the other, neither of them would have become what they are.

A story of two lives, a story of two successes, a story of two paths.

Underneath was a photo, Ravonna and him in front of the house on the cliff.

He continued to flip through the book, his eyes blurry with tears, and felt as if he was going through pieces of his life.

Pictures of TK's creation, of Mobius' workshop, of their first offices.

The day of the first opening.

Then the various collections of watches over the years, from the first one designed by Mobius to the latest luxury watches. Created after his departure.

Pictures of the rise of TK.

Photos taken after Mobius' time.

Until the last photo.

It was the front of Miss Minutes, of his shop.

A single sentence underneath.

We have taken different paths, our views have drifted apart, but you will always be my brother. For All time. Always.

Mobius wept for a long time over Ravonna, over the lost years, over what could have been. Then when the tears had dried, he closed the book and placed it neatly on the shelf. His hand lingered on the title for a moment.

Then, looking determined, he took his old sketchbook, sat outside the house and began to draw.

Loki's apartment - 2021

Loki, looking bewildered, was contemplating a sketch of the house on the hill.

At the bottom of the house, written in charcoal, it read:

I WANT TO MEET YOU!

FOR REAL THIS TIME!

_______

As a reader, I hate cliffhangers... I apologize in advance for being so cruel, I hope you will forgive me 😭

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

#lokius fics #lokius #Developing Relationship #no powers au #Alternate Universe #Letters #penpal #loki series au #loki #mobius m. mobius

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jyunshiim · 3 years

Text

Daisies & Clementine’s *✬★*’☽* ✬ ⤷Han X Reader

Genre → fluff | friends to lovers | childhood friends to lovers |

Contains → fluff

Listen to → playlist I was inspired by

Word count → 7K (7749)

TW → none

Summary: You and Jisung have been childhood companions for many years. Growing up was a breeze for you both, sharing a lot and being there for each other when each other were in need. Jisung asked you one day if you were allowed to spend a month holiday on Jeju Island with him and his family. A simple holiday, yet held great value.

The saying goes, that there is one person in the world that is meant for you: a soulmate. Although some soulmates aren’t so easy to find, hidden in the depths of the shadows of your life almost hidden until the last moments of your life. Unfortunately, it does happen but what is more common are soulmates that don’t even know it yet. Only until you feel like you’ve lost them or that they might not return what you have for them until something ever so specific happens.

***

The stars were glittering in the ebony abyss above you and your best friend Jisung. Jisung had always been your friend ever since that one time in school where you were mocked for not understanding a mathematics question and he helped you and became your tutor ever since. You weren’t the best with number and often struggled with understanding mathematical concepts but Jisung was there for you and took his precious time to study with you, day in day out. Without fail, his warm grin always consoled you as if he was indirectly telling you “it’s okay, I’m here for you”. You knew he’d be your home and your comfort even if you both went your separate ways and found love one day. You were both 16 at the time when he used to tutor you and by the time you both turned 18 and were making crucial life choices, you made choices you were 100% sure with. You didn’t want to leave Jisung behind and going to the same local university in your city was the only thing you could do to stay with him. Your parents didn’t like the idea of you pursuing a career in arts, particularly anything to do with literature and writing. It was deemed ‘useless’ in their eyes, so lacklustre of you. They were certain you weren’t getting anywhere with a degree in literature, but you loved writing; it was your form of expression. Jisung supported it all the way through. He chose to do music composition and production which he was outstanding at. You vividly remember during your summer break he wrote a song about the pair of you going to the convenience store and made it sound so mesmeric. Your best friend Jisung. What would you do without a friend like him?

***

The biting cold making icicles at the tip your fingertips, the tip of your nose as crimson as sweet cranberries, your knee bouncing up and down trying to warm you up. “what’s taking him so long?” you say to yourself as you stand up although during that moment, you see a chestnut brown-haired boy bolting down the streets, his fleece long jacket flailing in the polar winds, the hood of his hoodie falling off his head. Your face lights up – as always- when you saw his panicked face bolting through crowds of people who too were shopping. It was so endearing how he ran, a half jog half run. You laugh to yourself gripping the heat packs in your pocket until he arrived in front of you his hands, knuckles tinted light carmine, resting on your shoulders panting for breath.

“where were you?” your hands searching your pockets for the heat packs you had and holding it against his face, Jisung sniffling because of the cold weather. “I-I was trying…trying to buy something and the-” he struggles to speak as he holds his chest. “hey Jisung stop talking, let’s get you warm,” you hold his hand, a heat pack between your palm and his; fingers interlocking to keep it in place. It made him feel warm inside and out, a smile appearing on his face as he looked down, his brown wavy hair flopping down. The café had a homely feel, ever so reminiscent. You never knew why; possibly the rustic feel to it the lower ceilings and roof supports with warm fairy lights coiled around them. The counter was made out of a light wood, oak perhaps. You weren’t too keen on identifying trees. “You sit here okay, and I’ll be back with our drinks okay Han?” only you were allowed to call him by his surname although he claimed it as his nickname. He nodded, smiled sweetly and sat cosied up in an arm chair. “Do you want me to hold your bag for you?” he grabbed your arm before you left and you turned around. “oh yeah sure! That’d be great thank you,” you take your bag off your shoulder and he grabs the bag into hands and places it in his lap.

Jisung loved bitter coffee paired with a sweet dessert. The pure happiness he would endure simply from a strawberry cheesecake and any type of Americano coffee, hot or cold. It was different to you; you loved sweet drinks and savory-ish snacks (although a cheesecake was always so delightful when you were with Jisung). Jisung’s eye would sparkle, like he was holding the entire universe, whenever he saw something, he loved. Damn you for being so blind, his love for cheesecake was godly. Jisung warmed up, the condensation on the window making it fog up so he drew a smiley face. He was happy. You walk over with your tray and he immediately got up to take the tray out of your hands and place it down himself. “you never disappoint me,” he gasps at the creamy cake and the piping hot coffee. “I’m your best friend I will never forget until the day I die!” you pledge to him before sitting down giggling at his endearing reaction to such a simple food. You tear a bit of your croissant and place it in your mouth letting the subtle sweetness and savoury enthral you. The combination with your caramel macchiato, the combination of flavours combining and comforting you. Jisung introduced you to the caramel macchiato and croissant combination and ever since you got that every single time. “how are you feeling now Han?” you ask him, whilst leaning on your hand and tilting your head at him. He gazes into your eyes and smiles endearingly, “a lot better now, I was trying to get your birthday present, and I got held up! I am sorry about that,” he apologises. “what! You didn’t have to what the hell!” you lean over the table and slap his shoulder gently. “hey it is MY duty to take care of you until someone decides to sweep you off your feet,” he tuts, “they better treat your right!” he warns you for your future relationships. You nod and agree with what he says, “well my bestie Hannie will be there for me and likewise I will be there for you too!” you rub a tiny spec of cheesecake from the corner of his mouth, “a child, that’s what you are,” you joke with him.

You were disrupted by a strong gust of wind that collided with the glass where Jisung drew his smiley face and droplets of rain appears dragging down the window. The pattering of the raindrops where almost rhythmic, like the universe was performing for you. In fact, you loved the rain a lot that you wished to have your first kiss in the rain – it was cliché and cheesy – but Jisung always listened to your dreams and desires and what you wished for. The rain was comforting, like the clouds were telling you it was okay to be sad and to cry now and then. You were full of content in this given moment; a warm coffee between your palms, the icicles melting off and the colour in your frostbitten hands appearing. “do you want to try some?” Jisung scoops a spoonful of cheesecake and hovers over the table holding it in front of you. It was endearing, he always shared everything he had and of course you did the same. “of course?” you take the spoon from him and taste the cheesecake. The sweetness infiltrating your system as soon as it touched your tastebuds. “wow this place does really good cheesecakes, perhaps I’ll have to come here more often!” you smile at him. The bellicose rain thrashed against the window now, the winds were stronger, but you had to leave to get home although you needed to take a 30-minute bus journey back home and the weather was abysmal! “you are in no way going home in this weather!” Jisung tutted, “luckily, I do live literally around the corner,” he was definitely inviting you over, he was very clingy! “I can just go home; the bus comes in like-” you check your phone. 45 minutes. “never mind I will gladly take your considerate offer,” you laugh. “ah these buses aren’t the best now are they, let’s go now before there are too many people on the streets!” he stands up fixing his little jacket and handing back your bag. “unless you want me to hold it,” he offers. He was so selfless and sweet. “you’re not my boyfriend so why would you! It’s okay, I can take it back,” you play around.

***

You thank the baristas before Jisung pushes the glass door open for you and lets you go first. “I don’t have a hood!” you squeal before putting your hands above your head but Jisung was on his feet to the rescue, holding out his jacket and covering you with it. “let’s run to the convenience store alright! In 3, 2, 1-” you clutched onto his jacket covering you and bolted with his laughing at the playful noises he made before sheltering at the convenience store. You looked around the store for a few things to snack on. “I’ll pay so get whatever you like since you paid for my coffee,” he holds the basket. “shut up, you bought me a birthday present when I didn’t want you to!” you tut at him, “god what am I gonna do with you?” you scoff jokily. You see a pile of Clementine’s which you had to get because you loved them so much and it reminded you of the summers you used to drink fresh orange juice with Jisung near the river. You put them in the basket and Jisung looked confused; “oranges?” he looks at you with confusion. “I just really like oranges Jisung,” you smile. He took a mental note of that. After grabbing a few snacks, it was still raining, and he did the same thing again sheltering you with his own jacket and running to his house which was a minute or two away.

The door to his home creaked open, and the warmth hitting your face as quick as a train on tracks. The waft of freshly cooked rice drifts past your nose and it reminds you of all the times you and Jisung got stuck in the rain, just like this very occasion, and his mother made warm rice with a savoury soup. Jisung takes your jacket and takes it to his room to hang it up and comes back to the kitchen. “it’s raining bad so is it okay if-” Jisung gets cut off by his parents, “of course she can! Any time and if she needs to stay, we can accommodate her too!” His mother adored you, it was endearing. After your quick dinner with his parents, which his parents were more than happy to provide for you, you sat in Jisung’s bedroom. His room was as neat as it could be. When walking in, his bed was in the far-left corner pointing towards the large window, to the right of his room was his mic, computer and music equipment and next to that was his shelf with various different items like trophies and frames as well as the daisy chain he made for you. He also has his TV attached to the corner of his wall.

“oi why did you keep the daisy chain?” you asked him as he turned around, his hand on the remote to turn on the small TV in his room. “it’s pretty, isn’t it?” He gives a playful smile before jumping onto his bed and leaning against the headboard. “I never took you for such a sappy sentimental person,” you nudge him. “you learn something new every day,” he smiles before turning something on to keep you occupied. This was just comfort. Just you and your best friend of many years, spending quality time together. Your head lay on his dog plushie – which you gifted him so he would stop complaining he was lonely –your locks sprawling over it. Jisung glances over to you entranced by your own thoughts, a whole world inside your mind – he was intrigued as to what you were thinking. “hey, what are you thinking?” he sits up leaning down so he was in front of your face. It only came to your realisation he was laying next to you, face to face to get your attention. You sit up. “oh umm-“ you think fast, “the oranges!” you point at his desk at the clementine’s sat perfectly in the punnet it was in. You and Jisung spent an hour or so watching a show and talking about university and how you want to travel the world. He listened to you attentively to every word you said before his parents knocked and said that the rain storm had stopped and they can take you home. So shortly after, you gathered your belongings and Jisung followed you and his parents to the car. You forgot one thing, your hair tie that had a little rabbit charm on it; you had it ever since you were little and you forgot it at his house, at least it was Jisung though. Since then something changed in the air. A shift. Although only time will tell and expose what changed.

***

6:35 am your alarm blared through your bedroom, your head tucked under your grey and white sheets trying to accumulate warmth since you had to manually turn the heating on. You groaned tiresomely, your arm extending to find your phone, knocking it off the bedside table. You wanted to cuss it out because morning where NOT your forte. You sit up and grab your robe and draped it over your body and go to the bathroom to freshen up before getting ready for university. Jisung woke up at 8 because the campus was so near but you had to commute. You took your time doing your makeup and getting dressed, grabbing your bag and putting your notebook, laptop, stationary and your pouch in. You grab a jacket and your umbrella before promptly leaving at 7:57 am to catch the 8am bus to get to school. You managed to get to campus just before your lecture allowing you some time to get coffee to wake up a bit however… that plan did not seem very doable since the queue was incredibly long, so you gave up and went to the library to sit in your usual seat and wait for the lecture.

“hey!” you hear a whisper, and you ignore it thinking it was for someone else before you feel someone breathing on the back of your neck. Your instinct would be to slap the person but as you turn around with a fearful expression, you realise it’s Jisung with his starry eyes giving you that smile. “I got here early and got you your favourite,” he points at the seat you both sit at which was hidden behind a bookshelf. It was a large table where no one really sat since students preferred to work in groups. University life was different to high school. You had other friends which was nice; Sana did Biochem, so it was hard to get a hold of her, Chan was a sports and exercise student, and Seungmin studied nutrition. Jisung also had some friends from high school like Changbin who was doing the same course as you – literature- although he focused on the poetry section more, and Hyunjin who studied business and management. You did meet them often but of course you were closer to Jisung.

You saw the packaged croissant and the coffee on the table, and you thanked Jisung. He took his time to actually get you coffee before your lecture. “you have a couple minutes, at least you can drink it during the class!” he pats your shoulder. “don’t you have a lecture at 11am?” you ask him since that’s when yours finish. He nods. “I’ll be done by 2-ish? We can go and grab some lunch if you want?” he suggests. “how about we meet with Sana, Chan, Seungmin and Changbin for lunch?” you counter-suggest – if that is a word!-

“is Hyunjin busy?” Jisung asks a little confused. “Oh no he WAS the one who asked the other day and I replied to him now.” You smile so Jisung goes along with whatever you wanted to do.

You open your notebook to take some notes for your class and you see Changbin walking in and he sees you. Changbin was intimidating, at first glance, although he was sensitive and kind when you talk to him and get to know him better. “hey, I’m not late right?” he asks getting out his Ipad to take notes. You shake your head; “have you got your anthology yet?” Changbin asked you. You shake your head, you forgot about the anthology. “well that’s good because I saved you one,” he hands you the book of poetry. You were relieved, your degree relied on this book. “oh my god thank you!” You show your gratitude. “anything for a friend of Jisung’s and mine,” he smiles before turning back to face the front as the lecturer walks in and begins.

After class and meeting with your other friends for lunch, you all met at an Italian restaurant which was incredibly popular. It had been a while since you had a meal with all of them since classes took over your lives. “hey isn’t your birthday tomorrow?” Sana asks, her sweet smile brightening up the entire room. “Yeah it is wh-” but before you could say anything, she hands you a tiny pink bag. “I might have time so I got your gift today!” Sana was such an amazing friend. You thank her and open the bag and the small box inside to reveal an teddy keyring with your initials engraved on a small silver plaque looking keyring. “omg this is so cute thank you so much!”

“Now, open my one,” Jisung holds a blue bag with silver ribbon on the front. “now?” you ask him. “well yeah you opened Sana’s one?” so you opened the bag and it was in a slightly larger box; once you opened it a small gasp left your mouth and at that exact moment the food arrived. “what great timing I’m so hungry!” Changbin went in for the food and everyone else followed, conversing with each other and catching up, but you were still trying to process what he bought you. A silver necklace with a daisy charm and both of your initials on the back. “I’ll always be here for you, you know how that daisy chain is so sentimental to me, I hope this is too.” He leans in and quietly speaks. You were lost for words. You tried to splutter out a thank you, but he knew how thankful you were from your mere reaction.

The evening went as planned; you and your friends hung out after so long, work was intense but having a cheat day like this was indeed liberating. Jisung taps your shoulder gently as you wave Sana goodbye under a dimmed streetlight and the obscure night sky. It was hazy tonight; the cool fog making it hard to see anything ahead of you. Jisung stood next to you and you turned to him once Sana left. “are you thinking what I’m thinking Han?” you give a playful smile and rock back and forth on your tiptoes, “coffee and cake?” he asks as if he didn’t know that was your thing with him. “Of course!” you put your hands on his back and push him in the direction you wanted to go in; “over there!” you point. It was a night café situated along a remote street that was diverted away from main traffic. A large white sign lit up the dark street which directed you and Jisung to a well-lit night café that had a couple people inside enjoying their night with their friends or significant other. There were outdoor seats which weren’t occupied because of the drop in temperature but it would be nice to come here more often since the location was incredible. Jisung pushes the door open and lets you in first, following you and looking around for somewhere to sit. A circular table with two chairs in the farthest corner which was surrounded by bookshelves but renowned authors; Jisung chose to sit there and asked you to go and reserve that seat. “What are you doing?” your voice conveying disarray. “it’s on me tonight,” his smile appeared. That smile. Your heart did that thing again though you shook it off. It was nothing right? You sat yourself down, putting your purse on the table along with your phone; the books were intriguing you, there were many of them ranging from sonnets and poems to crime and mystery literature. You knew you weren’t much of a reader, but one did capture your attention. It was by an author called Ivan Turgenev, the book was called ‘First love and other stories’ – people writing about love was something you wish you could’ve done but you don’t know how love feels? The cover of the book was rough a cerise fabric-like texture, the title written in a gold on the spine of the book. Jisung comes over unexpectedly and leans over your shoulder eyeing at the hardback you seized. “what’s that? Love stories?” he pouts as you turn around in a panic, Jisung grabbing the book out of your hand, his fingertips grazing against your hand. If you had your Apple watch on right now, your heart rate would’ve been way too obvious. “O-Oh I was looking at the book shelf, they have so many well-known books and authors an-” your flustered ramble was interrupted by Jisung; “you want to read love stories, that’s understandable… it’s a good book I would recommend it,” he hands the book gently and points at the tray with the coffee cups filled to the top, the two cheesecake slices; one orange and the other strawberry. You gasp at the orange cheesecake – “oh my god they exist!” you sat down at the table, tucking the chair in. The aroma of the roasted coffee beans was intense although it made you feel comfort. You glance up at Jisung as he picks up the silver form and digs into the tip of the cheesecake, allowing there to be enough strawberry syrup and cheesecake. He holds it up to his mouth and notices you looking at him – with the most stupid look on your face, painted with adoration – so he held it out for you. “here, try it before I do,” his expressions were soft and gentle. “huh? Why, it’s yours?” you try to refuse. It didn’t work. “because-” he thinks for a second, “sharing is caring.” He fondly beams. You couldn’t deny it but he held the fork and you endured such sweetness swirling around, dancing on your tastebuds, the bitterness of your coffee counteracting with the dessert; it was utterly perfect. “nice?” he asks. “of course, as always!”

You didn’t realise at the time, but it was an analogy that you didn’t realise. The bitterness occurring in your life being stabilised by someone so sweet, attentive and ever so cherishing. It made sense.

You took a forkful of your orange cheesecake although it didn’t cater to your taste. “are you alright, do you not like it?” Jisung asks you. You shake your head, “ it tastes too artificial..” you hold the remaining cake on your fork and place it on the plate. It was disappointing, yes but Jisung swapped the ceramic plates with his. “here have mine, I’ll have this!” he takes whatever remained on the fork and takes a bigger chunk. You know what they say about sharing drinks, does it apply to forks? “O-oh thank you Han,” you smile softly, you couldn’t help but feel so warm inside. After spending some time at the café it was time to go home although Jisung insisted he would take you home safely first before he goes home. “no no, I can go myself,” you asserted. Jisung tutted and rolled his eyes playfully as he always does. “Why?” you ask waiting for a valid response. “Because it’ll take you even longer to get home!” you raise your voice a little louder but not too loud to bring attention. “well.. I’ve stayed over before..” he reminded you. Ah yes.. he did didn’t he. Your parents were okay with Jisung and already mentioned that if you dated him, it’d be best. God why did they think like that? “I’m joking, I’ll get a taxi and we can go together,” he thought. You nod agreeing with him.

A couple weeks pass and you were on call to Jisung whilst studying. It was really late, around 2am but your Film project wasn’t going to do itself. He kept company since he just never slept. “want me to come over to study with you?” he asks. You were shocked at the offer. “at 2am? Are you crazy!” your voice becomes a little harsh as you tried to stay quiet. “maybe we should look for campus accommodation or an apartment we can split the rent for!” he suggests. It wasn’t a horrible idea, there would be some leeway for you to do whatever you like. “I’ll see for next semester; we can get looking though!” although you didn’t realise, he meant move in together. You and Jisung met up later that day at the university library, your laptop with all your editing software open, editing your short film that you filmed of him. It was about how you romanticised life and how everything was symbolic for something; Jisung pointed at himself. “what do I symbolise,” he asks tilting his head taking in the moving image. You pause, what if your feelings have changed? You lied. “you’re my best friend of course,” you smile through the pain knowing he will never feel the same. His cheeks flare a rosy hue. Even such words made him happy. “hey,” he enquires, “are you free August 1st?” you think for a moment. “That’s a couple months away but I should be, I can make sure nothing happens that day, why?” You seemed so confused. “My family and I are going to Jeju for a visit and I was wondering if you wanted to come as well?”

Oh.

“That would be nice, I haven’t been there yet either,” you let out a quiet laughter. “please, it would be so nice to have you there too!” he leans into you a little and laying his head on the table and smiling. Stop smiling like that – you think. “maybe I’ll consider it if you weren’t acting like a child,” your nervousness was seeping through. “a child? Isn’t that just my ecstatic personality hm?”

You scoff and continue focusing on your editing, a deep feeling of resent brewing within – why did you film Jisung AND fall for him? Wasn’t falling in love with your best friend a crime in any friendship? You took a deep breath; if you ignore it, it will be fine.

You stare at your oyster-white ceiling, covered in plastic leaf vines along the ends of your room the window open ajar enough to let in the gelid night breeze in, gliding onto your begs making you quiver. You didn’t want to shut it, you were too consumed by sundry thoughts about him; the way your heart thumped out of your chest, it paining you to see his boxy smile or when he would run up to you and embraced his arms around you tenderly full of compassion. He cared so much for you but you felt like you were too late to return any of it. Feelings are the way they are; ruthless in nature, eradicating almost every bit of rational though you possessed. You groaned feeling ever so dishevelled. You hand on your chest and a stone in your throat; you found it hard to accept you liked him – a lot more than just ‘like’, that word was too ineffective. Jisung’s pure demeanour flashes in and out of your head; when his hand touched yours when you held that one book at the night café, the way he let you have his jacket as a shelter, the way he kept the shrivelled-up daisy chain on his shelf; it was the way he did everything for you. Jisung played the guitar for you nearly every time you asked and sung for you even though he wasn’t confident in his vocals. But you didn’t want to bring your hopes up and embarrass yourself. That’s when it happened – the butterflies intruded and that’s when you knew your monotonous routine of life was demolished. With that being said, your eyes began to heavy, shutting slightly before your eyes fully closed. Dreamland is where you were transported to you…

Your trip to Dreamland gave you all the answers you needed.

It was a Saturday and you waited outside of a café waiting for Jisung. It was warmer, much warmer. You remembered that one winter’s evening when you and Jisung were caught in a storm in the exact place. You switch your phone on to see the time, the photo of you and Jisung gleaming back at you. It was a cute photo; Jisung slyly ate some of your ice cream getting a little bit on the tip of his nose and you laughing at him and wiping it off with your thumb. Your other friends really liked capturing you two, they said you were soulmates which you ignored because you didn’t believe in soulmates. Emphasis on didn’t – times change and so do people.

“Hey!” Jisung startled you, nearly dropping your phone. “you alright there,” he chuckled at you. “Not funny!” you couldn’t help but smile. “you seem to be in a good mood!” he smiles with his teeth, draping his arm around you, clutching his fist to respect you. “so what do you want to do today?” he asks you.

“why do you keep asking me?” you pout slightly. “why not?” Jisung pushes his hair back, his chestnut locks resting back into its natural position.

“We should go to a café then get matching bracelets because YOU promised we’d get matching ones and then maybe at sun set, go to Namsan Tower?” you suggest. “Did you plan this last night when I told you to go to sleep?”

You didn’t, you saw it in your dream.

“l-lets just go!” you grab his arm and take him inside the café to get a cool drink to quench your thirst.

His eyes attentively scanned the menu, looking at all the cold drinks he could get. “what are you getting,” he asked. “hmm I really feel like having the grapefruit one!” you point at the menu, “what are you getting?” you ask Jisung, “which one sounds nice?” he asks again.

You can the menu again; “blueberry tea sounds really tasty!” you say. He nods that same look of compassion; he was enthralled by you yet you didn’t even know.

***

She was beautiful. The way she looked up at me and smiled; her fierce attitude to everything made me want to scream, toss and turn in my bed; she made the butterflies in my stomach go wild. I was foolish for falling for her – my best friend – but what can I do if whenever I see her, the tempestuous storm within me is appeased at her presence. She makes me feel at home. Her amicable nature, so captivating. The face she made when she was displeased was endearing even if she thought it was hideous, to me she was like a gem that was waiting to be found and I’m glad to have found her first. I was devoted to her; there won’t be another who makes me feel the way she does. She’s my first love. And I am willing for her to be my last if nothing is returned. Her happiness is all that matters to me…

***

Sipping your drinks in the sunlight was refreshing. You both got your bracelets to match; inexpensive yet it meant the whole world to you – and him. “there are some benches over there!” you point, grabbing his spare hand without a second though and running towards it. The sun began to wane and the stars began to emerge; simultaneously, the sky bled into an inky black allowing the stars to glow and gleam brightly. It was like how Jisung endured everything for you to let you shine. Like in school, how he would quite literally get hurt to keep you safe. You owed him a lot. “isn’t the moon really pretty tonight?” you point at the lustrous pearly orb that reigned the void sheathing the earth. “yeah, she’s really pretty tonight,” Jisung speaks softly. You didn’t realise how Jisung said ‘she’; he gazed at you, infatuated by none other than you. His fingers twitched to intertwine between your fingers, to lay a gentle kiss on your cheek. He waited for the right time.

A few months went by until it was the day of the trip Jisung planned to go on with his family. You stand in the centre of your bedroom with a small suitcase since it was for two weeks; you packed your necessities and your chargers, some hair ties and your book. You zipped up your suitcase and grabbed your other bag to throw in your pouch, phone, airpods and whatever else you needed easy access to. Jisung walks into your room with a knock; “hey your mum let me in, ready for me to take your stuff?”

And from there, everything began to unfold.

The journey there was peaceful considering the fact you always fell asleep at least 15 minutes into any car journey. Your head resting against the car window, although Jisung noticed that it wasn’t very relaxing when your head kept bumping against the car; he moved to the middle and gently moved your head to rest onto his shoulder his arm around you, so you were comfortable. He could feel his heart explode 50 fireworks every time he looked at you. He was spellbound by you.

***

Your Island holiday started off with a tour of Jisung’s holiday home; a pretty looking home with sliding doors and traditional architecture. “This is my room, and I think my parents are allowing you your own room which is the guest room,” he opened the door to the guest room and you were rapt but the view it had of the ocean. You dropped your bags and ran to the large windows and swung then open; the sound of the birds and the swashing of the sea infused your system. It felt refreshing. “It’s really pretty isn’t it, I love coming here,” he leaned against the window sill. Especially with you. He thought. “well, I’ll let you get comfortable and perhaps we can go exploring a little bit or we might have something to eat.. I don’t know but get comfy!” he says before shutting the door and leaving you alone with the ocean and your busy mind to unwind.

The saxe blue ocean pushed up against the bisque grains of sand, pulling back and leaving behind a platinum foamy residue. You thought of you and Jisung holding hands and walking down the beach at sunset like every couple does. The air felt lighter so you inhaled deeply and tried to let go of everything you had on your mind. You heard a knock at the door; it was Jisung’s mother. “are you hungry?” she smiled with immense amount of love and gentleness in her eyes. “of course! I’ll come now!” you close the windows and grab your phone as his mother smiled at you. Family meals with his family felt so natural although today Jisung was a lot more reserved as usual. Usually he would say something stupid or be extroverted. “You okay?” you whisper across the table. “h-huh, OH yeah I am, I’m tired that’s all.”

It wasn’t like him but you knew it wasn’t you that was the reason.

After dinner, you followed him back to the bedrooms; “Jisung,” you utter “Hm?” he turns around, the pair of you face to face now. “Do you want to watch the stars with me?” you ask nervously but you saw the way his brows raise from a furrow and the corner of his lips raise. “Of course I would, I’ll go change and come to you alright?” you nod your head and do the same thing. As you close the door you exhale. You don’t know why you were so nervous. But soon enough, he knocked and asked permission to come in. You both sat on the bed and gazed at the twinkling stars outside; “sometimes I wish I could be a star,” you begin. “Why is that?” Jisung asks looking down at you laying your head near thigh; “they’re so carefree and pretty and I-”

“but so are you?” he defends. “what?” you get up and look at him, your hair covering the sides of your face. He tucks your hair behind your ear; “you mean more than you think, to someone out there you just don’t know yet.. The way we’re looking at stars right now someone must’ve saw you the same way and wished they saw you again.. because it’s hard to find ONE special star amongst many,” Jisung was extremely poetic today.

“Han-” you were interrupted again. “the moon is out again, look!” he points as you lay back down this time on his thigh as he shifted it closer to where you were laying. It felt natural. His hand hesitated to touch your hair, to play with your locks but he found the courage to. You felt your soul levitate but luckily he couldn’t see your face.

***

The sun beamed into your room, the light material curtains flailing in the ocean breeze; Jisung wasn’t in the room. You were resting on a pillow with a blanket over you, it seems like he left later when you fell asleep again. The aroma of breakfast began to waft through the gap of the door to which you thought it would be a good idea to get up and get ready. You opened the door and yelped as you saw Jisung smiling ear to ear at your door. “Good morning sleepy head-” as he grabbed your hand. “w-wow where are we going!” you yelped. “breakfast but at a special place!” he says. “bye we’ll be back!” Jisung waves to his parents. You make your way down paths until you reached a little shop – a coffee shop. “I loved this place and I always wanted to bring you here!” he opens the door and the strong scent of bread and other patisserie struck you. “this is where my love for cheesecake came from!” he smiles. He seemed very happy.

You panicked internally. Did..you kiss! That thought didn’t feel right !!

***

Jisung toured you around. He showed you places he used to love as a child and things that made him happy – even happier that he could share it with you – from the rocks near the sea, to the bakery. He showed you where he carved his name on a tree on the way back to the family home. “maybe I should carve yours too!” he looks for a sharp stone and gets right to it. You watch him be so happy and acted out to yourself how you would confess to him. maybe you shouldn’t right? Soon after, you both slowly walked home but Jisung stopped again. “hey look!” he points at this tree. “what about it?” you ask until you looked up to see bright orange oranges hanging from verdant leaves. “oh my! I want one!” you say trying to grab out until Jisung stands extremely close behind you leaning over to twist one off. “Thanks-” you say although he begins peeling the skin off himself with a smile of endearment painted across his face. “I can do it myself!” you try to grab it off him. “aaaa-” he says holding a piece to your mouth with your accept, his thumb grazing against your bottom lip. “oh it’s really tasty!” you say. “open wide,” he jokes as he holds another one. “I’m not a baby!” you whine. “yeah you are,” he laughs running forward. “come and get me!”

This was the Jisung you knew and loved.

He grabbed your hand once you caught up to him, his fingers intentionally interlocking fingers and smirking at you playfully before running back to the house. You had so much fun. More than you usually do and you felt closer to Jisung. The exchanging of looks and playfully flirty remarks is all that you would remember from today. Especially, his thumb grazing your bottom lip; his soft gaze was still intense; it still made you feel nervous.

Being with Jisung was homely. His genial personality making you fall for him further. That night, you sat in the bed of the guest room, the owls hooting outside and trees rustling as the oceans began to sound turbulent. You were a little frightened and you debated going to Jisung. “screw it!” you thought. You knock at his door and hope he isn’t asleep. There wasn’t an answer so you turned around to go back into your room until your hear the handle lower and open. “you okay?” he asked, looking genuinely concerned. You gulped at the way he presented himself, his hair messy and eyes weary. “I didn’t mean to disturb you I-I’m just a bit scared…” you mumbled. “scared?” he repeated. “yeah! Don’t repeat it I feel STUPID!”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds out his hand; “I’m watching a show right now if you want to join me?” he offers. You take his hand and he closes the door behind him. He climbs into bed and leans against his headboard. “your space awaits,” he says in a deep voice mocking the character in the show making you smile. You slide under his sheets and against the headboard too although it felt abnormal. “you can lean on me if you want to, I don’t mind..” he says. “are you sure?” you ask gulping. He nods with great certainty. So you did what he said. You lowered yourself so your head was at his chest, leaning into him and unexpectedly he pulled you in closer.

The moment became incredibly intimate. His heart was beating fast, you could hear it thump out of his chest. You felt your pulse quicken too. This wasn’t normal at all. You were okay with intimacy but this moment felt … different.

“are you okay?” he asks, his voice slightly husky, his fingers gently skimming the side of your arm. You stay still, debating to confess or to just lean in and get it done and over with. No. He wouldn’t do that. You sit up, his arm moving away from you; you face him and take a deep breath. “what’s wro-” he gets cut off by your confession.

“ I love you Jisung..” you blurt out closing your eyes hoping he’d say something – even if it was the opposite of what you were expecting. Although whilst your eyes were closed there was silence which was shattered by Jisung’s laugh. He lay his hand on yours, his other hand just below your jaw: “open your eyes for me,” he begins, your eyes slowly peering at him. It was like someone burst a colour bomb in the room; he was radiating indigo, pink and orange – he was happy. Although words were not exchanged, actions were.

Actions speak louder than words

His arm placed itself around your waist pulling you in closer to him as you kneeled on his bed. He closed his eyes and leaned closer to your lips, a paroxysm of emotions and feelings being exchanged between two lovers. The pure infatuation between you and him felt like true love, everything felt like two puzzle pieces attaching to create a piece of art that longed to be complete. The large boulder that sat on your chest had gone, you felt like a feather floating through the gates of heaven. The sweet exchange between you and Jisung, his hands ever so gently holding you; he loved you this whole time but waited for you. You lay next to him, his eyes so effervescent and glossy, his fingers caress the side of your cheek. “I love you more than you would ever have expected me to…” he confesses lowly “ I was waiting for you,”

I was waiting for you.

Everything felt so complete with your heart and Jisung’s heart merged into one. Daisies, clementine’s, and August 1st. You wished for nothing more and nor did he. Even in another life, you would always be his first love

First love. Something so pure and magnificent, something that changed the repetitive customs of life; something that gave variety and prosperity to existence. Even when seasons change, Clementines and Daisies will be what bound you with your first love; Jisung was your first love and transpires to be your last.

Everything was falling into place and had been since whenever he grew feelings for you. The way you sandwiched his cheeks with heat packs, or the way you held his hand with one heat pack. Not to forget the way he would always buy your second choice so you didn’t have any regrets. The way Jisung’s gentle touches made a pit in your stomach fall everytime like the one time at the night cafe when you were looking at the books. Not to forget the way his thumb grazed your lips... Everything was just right.

***

53 notes · View notes

shoyouth · 4 years

Note

i love your writing so much that i could do a million requests!!!! if you're still taking then, can i please ask the ikevamp suitors hc of moving in to a place only theirs and mc?? domestic hcs are soooooo sweet!!!

omg I’m so happy you like my writing that much! But requests are always welcome~ this is such a cute idea too! I hope you enjoy :D also how many times could I use the word domestic, oh my God...

napoleon ; oh, if you want, sure. Once you’re moved into the new house, he may still go to the mansion often to talk to the residents or spar with jean. He may have been an emperor, but he was used to normal/lower class living before, and so he picks up on chores and the like surprisingly quick. Domestic life would be very easy with him, though the issue of waking up late and kissing will persist—though that’s not particularly a problem anymore; morning cuddles are a must.

arthur ; he’s game. May joking lament leaving the residents (“who’s going to mock Issac while I’m gone?”) but he’s very excited to start a more domestic life with you. Surprisingly picky when house-shopping?? Like he picks up on every little detail like cracks in the walls or leaky pipes and won’t settle for less. He’ll enjoy the serentiny of a simple home with just you (esp when writing and you bring him coffee!!), and he smirks at the idea that no one can catch you making out in the kitchen now...

mozart ; thank God. He never particularly wanted to leave the mansion, but some kind of privacy from the residents would be nice (he does care for them though, don’t be fooled). He is very particular when buying a house, and a music room was an absolute requirement. Other than that, he’s fine; he’ll help with cleaning but not much else, mostly because he likes for the house to look good and for his energy to not be clogged. The peace and quiet of your guys space would make him smile, and he’d enjoy resting with you on the couch sometimes during the day.

leonardo ; he could easily acquire a mansion for the both of you (comte would insist, actually) but he’d probably prefer a simple home, one near the citycenter that may be a tad run-down. He’s quite crafty, and he’d find fixing the home up with you to be relaxing and domestic. The hustle and bustle of the city would make him feel more normal and alive, and though he would still talk to the mansion residents often, he liked being a neighbor to the city folk; you become a couple immersed in new friends who you help out and talk with out on the town.

vincent ; But what about the others? He’d be a little sad at the idea of leaving his friends, but overtime he’d come around to the idea, especially if you stayed nearby. A change of scenery made him excited (esp for painting) and it’d probably be a requirement for it to have a wow factor/secret place, similar to his spot on the hill. Theo would probably demand he move in as well, but vincent would convince him to stay at the mansion if 1) you bought a place nearby, and 2) theo had his own guest bedroom. If you moved in together, he’d love to settle down before the fire with you at night and eat breakfast together while the birds sing.

theo ; Vincent must move in with you, no buts. When you tell him you meant only you guys, he’s just like?? Vincent can have his own room? Or a smaller house on the property? I am so sorry but Theo refuses to leave his brother, but once you allow it, Theo is all game for moving out. You probably get used to Vincent joining you at dinner and stuff, but the older Van Gogh is respectful and gives you and Theo your space. He’ll probably opt for a neighboring home soon after as to let you be more of a couple. Theo would be very good at maintaining the yard (I’m imagining him with a mower and I’m cackling) and the overall aesthetic of the home, since he has an eye for art.

issac ; uh, are you sure you want to take such a big step...? He had never really thought about leaving, but what if you didn’t like being with just him; what if he’s not entertaining enough as a sole roommate? Will like a more modest home with enough space to tinker and enough distance from the town where you can still stargaze. Once you’re moved in, he settles down quickly; he really likes how calm and happy you two are sharing in each other’s spaces for real now (not just sneaking into each other’s rooms), and you’d stargaze most nights together, even falling asleep on the blanket.

dazai ; ah, well, he’s not particularly home often enough as it is, is he? He comes and goes from the mansion a lot, so at first he’d be puzzled. Whatever you want he’d do, but you didn’t expect his behavior to stop, did you? He doesn’t seem too concerned when house-shopping, but if you find one with some Japanese influence (pond in the back, and big windows just for him to crawl through), he may perk up. Though he easily helps with chores, it takes a while for him to relax fully with you, knowing that your home is a safeplace with no need to be on guard or masked. You both will probably spend a lot of time outside by the pond, relaxing and feeling at ease in a home to call your own.

jean ; no. well, why? ah, you should be married before living together at least, shouldn’t you? Not necessarily nervous, but very wary; he doesn’t know what spurred this train of thought nor what you wanted out of moving in together. It’d take a good while to convince him (he also feels safer when napoleon is under the same roof in case he starved himself again; he wouldn’t want to accidentally bite you if you lived alone...), but if you lived nearby—and are engaged at least, good heavens!—he may relent. He’d take a bit to warm up to you again since he’s so tense from his fear, but once he gets used to the independence of living separately/making sure he drinks, he’ll be fine and indulge in domestic life with you.

comte ; although he is the master of the mansion, it wouldn’t take too much convincing for him to buy another house close by. He would come to enjoy the separation, the quiet simplicity of not having to be pristine and stern in front of the others (even though you both visit often), and simply being domestic and normal with you. He’d end up enjoying doing chores with you, but just because it’s your guys home now, not a mansion for show. Will continue to spoil and take care of you, but he’d love taking baths with you or laying in bed the most.

sebastian ; it would take a while for him to agree. He agreed to stay in the time period to observe the historical men, after all, and he feels indebted to take care of the mansion. If you were to move away, what then? He would simply leave early and return late while he maintains his job (even if comte tells him not to worry). The only time he would agree to move away is if you were expecting to have children soon, then he’d lighten up for a more domestic life.

shakespeare ; it’d be very easy for you to transition to living with only him, since he does have his own mansion away from the others. Though comte and them would be wary and sad to see you go, they’d allow it. Shakespeare would be touched but he’d cover it up with his poetic verse; he’d be very cautious for a while because even though you consistently said you were happy with him, he was afraid that at any moment you would want to move back—he may even attempt trying to make you want to move back. Once he’s assured and comfortable, he’d love to read books with you and drink tea in the lounge on your days off.

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pasteljeon · 4 years

Text

handcrafted | heartbeat 1

When you put out a roommates ad for your newly purchased house, the only requirement you set out had been cleanliness.

The last thing you’d expected was for the 7 most eligible bachelors of your university to come calling.

Throw in school, crazy fan girls and the most sought for men suddenly chasing after you with heart eyes, comes a college experience of a lifetime.

Would it be so wrong to want them all?

1: handcrafted

summary | they needed a place to stay. You needed money. You are so fucking screwed. They want you to screw them instead.

series index.

“I’m sorry,” comes a high-pitched, exasperated whine for the umpteenth time.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you say, suitcase dropping unceremoniously onto the gravel floor with a sad thud. You stare up at the building with dread, a knot forming in your stomach. Now that you think of it, it does seem to loom overhead rather ominously. And you liked the design so much, too.

“You’re telling me that I just dropped half a million into a house and now I have no one to room with and no way to pay off my mortgage?”

“It was last minute,” Ahri tries to explain feebly, but you close your eyes.

“So let me get this straight,” you say slowly, sucking in a long breath, “All seven of you magically got offered the very same jobs you have right now … in the same city?”

“…Yes?” She coughs. “Same company, just a different branch. And, uh, just not this city.”

Silence.

You tap your foot impatiently.

“___?” You can already imagine the way your best friend is cringing, voice meek as she asks mildly, “Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” you say through gritted teeth as you drag your luggage to the front.

With the autumn leaves stirring in your wake, every step is heavy and dredged with defeat as you make your way to the coffee shop on campus.

“I’m sure there are still plenty of people looking for rent,” Ahri says sympathetically, rubbing your shoulder as you slump over the table.

“How am I going to find seven people to fill the spaces before the semester starts?” You wail, banging your head against the glass. “Classes start in a week and I need people now so I can pay the obnoxiously inflated mortgage.”

“Are you sure—” Jisoo starts, but you throw up a hand instantly. “Never gonna go down that alley. If I have to, I’ll sell the house and live on the streets. Since you’re all basically abandoning me anyway.”

“Not all of us,” Ryujin reminds you as she takes a seat, sliding your signature drink across.

“Yeah, just 90% of us,” Ahri supplies helpfully. You glare at her playfully as you sit up, taking a tentative sip from the cup. Letting out a sigh, you lean back into your seat.

“No, but in all seriousness. How am I going to find replacement roommates in time?” You trace the lid absently, propping your chin up with the other hand.

“We still have a week before we leave for our co-op terms. We can help you out until then. We’ll find people,” Jisoo promises. She’s already pulled out her phone, tapping away at the multitude of chats she’s in to put out word for you.

“I’ll ask a friend to make a mock up of an ad,” Ryujin offers. Ahri nods vigorously.

“Okay. Thanks guys, you’re the realest,” you say gratefully. Perhaps all hope is not yet lost, you conclude rather miserably.

Despite the collective efforts of all your braincells, skills and networking circles pooled together, the week is drawing to a close. Every decline is for the same reason: it’s just too late.

Between your unpacking, shopping, arranging furniture and rearranging décor (with the help of Dara, the interior design major, of course), suddenly it’s Thursday and you’re looking pretty fucking doomed.

“How is it everything fell through so fast?”

“Mhmm. You tell me,” you say absentmindedly as you straighten a painting.

You can feel Dara’s amusement as she readjusts the frame you were fiddling with. “Stop touching. It’s fine.”

“It’s crooked,” you protest.

“You know, that reminds me,” she says thoughtfully as she steps back. “Jiyong’s been working on his new album, and there’s these new singers he’s scouted out. It might be a long shot since classes are about to start, but he’s talked about how much they complain about their residence. I can ask if they’re still up to moving.”

“Yes, please,” you nod. “It honestly doesn’t matter anymore. I just need money. I don’t even know why this was a good idea in the first place.”

“It was a good idea. When we were all going to be here,” Dara amends.

You exhale. “Fuck me in the ass.”

“Uh … who are you?” You blink, cocking your head to the side curiously.

There’s a … person standing at your door, awkwardly gripping a suspiciously familiar flyer. He’s … someone you’ve never spoken to before. He’s grown his hair out this summer, brushing away the curls as they frame his big, doe eyes. The scar on his cheek is hidden by the makeshift ebony curtain. He’s clearly been busy, veins and muscles rippling under golden skin virtually straining to explode from that tight pair of black jeans he’s wearing.

You are not charmed. You are not charmed. You are not fucking charmed.

“Um … are you ___?”

You nod, waiting for an explanation. The bags in your hands are getting heavier with every passing second and you silently beg him to hurry it along before your arms snap clean off.

“M-my hyungs asked me to check you out,” he stutters.

A beat, and then –

“Ah! I-I mean check the place out, not you, that would be weird, why would I ever check you out,” he corrects quickly. You raise an eyebrow warily. The sheet crumples in his whitening fist.

“I-I mean I check you out all the time so that’s not really new, i-it’s just y-you have vacancy right,” he’s word-vomiting, cheeks ripening furiously and he looks like he’s about ready for the ground to swallow him up.

“We want to move in,” he practically screams. You recoil, the bags hitting your thigh painfully.

Huh.

This is … unexpected. Every time you’ve ever encountered him on campus, he’s never been so … clumsy. Is clumsy the right word to describe this?

“Oooookay,” you say. “Yeah, I can give you a tour and answer any questions you have, just let me unload first.”

“O-oh, I can take those for you,” he stumbles over to relieve you of your physical burden. He ducks his head, scores of pink still marring his expression as you unlock the door.

“Come in.”

“Sorry for the intrusion,” he says shyly, slipping off his sneakers and trailing behind you to set the groceries on the counter as you indicated.

You shrug off your jacket before rummaging in one of the bags to pull out a bottle of banana milk. His eyes light up instantly when you slide it over the counter to him.

“Thank you, noona!” He tears open the lid and gulps down the concoction eagerly.

Noona? You squint. Are you really older than him? You’ll have to check later.

“So will your … hyungs be joining us today, or would you guys like to book another time to come altogether?”

Just as he’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to reply, the doorbell rings.

“Dara,” you hiss into the phone, cupping the microphone close to you as you huddle in one of the upper floor bathrooms. “You didn’t tell me there were seven of them.”

“Huh? But wasn’t seven the exact number you needed?” She answers innocently.

“You said some and singers! None of them are singers or new! They’re the fucking guys from the Calvin Klein underwear ads and that one Gucci perfume commercial!”

“Technically, they are singers. A couple of them are composers and they all have really good voices. According to Jiyong anyway, no one else has had the privilege of hearing them,” she states.

“I’m going to die,” you say flatly. You’re pacing, practically wearing the new carpet you just bought. “I am going to die a horrible, horrible death. Fangirls will hunt me down, I’m going to get death threats and I’ll have to live in the shadows for the rest of my life. There are a lot of rich people here, and they’re going to hire hitmen and I’ll –”

“– Die a horrible death, yes, I heard the first time,” Dara cuts you off dryly.

Your eyes widen. “You knew!” You accuse. “How could you do this to me?!”

“___,” she sighs suddenly, sounding disappointed. “This was the best I could do, okay? It was the perfect opportunity. Look, just go downstairs, gauge their characters and all that jazz, and if you still think it’s not a good fit, just tell them that and keep looking. You’re not locked in on this.”

You rest your head on the wall. “… Yeah. Okay. True. Thanks a lot, Dara.”

“Of course. I always got your back. Let me know how things go and what you decide,” she reassures you.

“I will.”

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, phone gripped tightly in your hand, before groaning aloud. Splashing water on your face and smoothing out your disgruntled locks, you make your way back to the living room.

It’s awkward. Oh fuck, it’s so awkward you think you’ll die of sheer awkwardness instead.

There are seven men smiling up at you, all crammed in the three sets of sofas you’d recently purchased. They have such long legs. One of them has really broad shoulders.

“I know you,” you say stupidly, pointing at the man with dimples. He waves.

“___,” he says pleasantly. “How has your summer been?”

“You were my TA,” you continue, finger quivering. You’re downright flabbergasted. “Isn’t there like a … like a rule or something against TAs moving in with previous students?”

“We never officially met,” he replies smoothly. Why the fuck is he still smiling?! This is so freaky. You can’t do this. Holy shit.

“In fact, the TAs for that course were never formally introduced. We only marked your exams in random groups, nothing more. I can’t say I’ve had the privilege of marking your work.”

Liar. You know he’s marked one of your essays. You can easily tell his thick strokes and thoughtful feedback scrawled in the margins apart from all the other cursive nonsense the others liked to write.

You move on. “You,” you say, examining the peculiar orange locks and disappearing eye smile. “You’re one of the dancers. You and … you,” the one next to him nods, his grin heart-shaped.

“You make music,” the one with mint hair and catlike eyes. What is with them and their rainbow styled colours? He shrugs noncommittally.

“Photos,” the one with a boxy beam. The camera looped around his neck was pretty self-explanatory, but you’ve seen him around.

“You … are old,” his plush lips instantly downturn.

“Excuse me?” He harrumphs. “Is that how you speak to your elders?” There’s no real bite to his tone, just a tinge of annoyance. The rest of the boys are hiding laughs.

“Didn’t you graduate a while ago?” You ask instead.

He uncrosses his arms, slumping. “… Yes,” he says guiltily. “I’m getting my Masters.”

“Hyung doesn’t like being called old,” the one still clutching the milk explains, mirth dancing in his eyes. “He’s old, but not obsolete. Not yet, anyway.”

“Shut it,” he snaps, pouting. He certainly doesn’t act old, you remark silently, stifling a giggle.

“We should do formal introductions,” the dimpled boy offers.

“My name is Kim Namjoon. I’m a Philosophy and History double major. I do TA for a couple courses.”

“Kim Taehyung! I like taking photos, so photography. Obviously. I’m thinking about picking up media arts or something on the side, though.”

“Jeon Jungkook. Graphic design and Photography.”

“Contemporary dance, Park Jimin.”

“Performing dance, Jung Hoseok! My stage name is J-Hope.”

“Music composition. Min Yoongi.”

“I’m Kim Seokjin, though you’ve probably already heard of me,” he smirks, puffing his chest out proudly. “Film and Acting.”

“Oh!” You say, nodding very seriously. “You were in that one fried chicken commercial, right?”

Seokjin stares, unimpressed even as the boys are falling into pieces beside him. “It was for the new Palisade.”

“Oh. They’re cool, too,” you agree. You don’t know much about cars.

“I’m ___. Do you guys want a tour?”

“So? Spill the beans!”

“On what?” You quirk an eyebrow as you flick through the menu. Ahri looks like she’s almost bouncing from her seat in excitement.

“Were they as handsome as they say?”

“What do people say about them, now?” The menu hasn’t changed, this restaurant is just as overpriced and basic as it’s been the past two years. You don’t even know why you bothered opening the damn thing. With a sigh, you toss it to the side.

“I heard Jimin looks like an angel when he sleeps. Rumour has it, once you’ve kissed Jin once, you can never go back. Have you seen his lips? God, they’re to die for,” Ahri moans.

You give her a look. “You’re kidding. And you believe that crap? They look like regular people. Albeit yes, handsome, really good looking people.”

“Hi, are you ready to order?” A soft, timid voice interrupts your gossip session.

“Jungkook,” you say, surprised. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

Okay, fuck, you have to admit he looks so very delicious with that rumpled look of his, ruffled chestnut hair, the return of those killer black jeans, paired with a fitted black turtleneck. A red apron is tied around his unfairly thin waist.

“Ah,” he says, scratching his neck. Already reddening as he fiddles with the pad in his hand. “Um. I just started today, actually. I needed money … you know, for-for rent and stuff.”

“Oh no,” you say immediately, concern colouring your tone. “Was the rate too high? If it’s unaffordable for you, we can always figure something else out—”

“No, no!” Jungkook says hastily. “It’s not that. I was planning on getting another job anyway, regardless of where I ended up. I’d have to pay rent no matter where I lived.”

“Oh,” you nod. “In that case …”

Jungkook excuses himself as soon as your orders are scrawled down, still seemingly unable to meet your gaze for long.

“He’s just so cute,” Ahri swoons. You choke down the bile that threatens to hurl itself up from the mere sight of her exaggerated love struck expression. “Uh huh.”

“Okay, so what did you do? The tea, the tea,” she demands.

“There is no tea,” you throw your hands up. “I gave them the standard tour, copies of the lease to take home, but they said they wanted it so they signed them on the spot, paid the deposit and everything. It was super quick and they all just left right after. That’s it.”

“Wow, they must’ve been desperate,” she comments. “Though the house is really nice. It’s huge, totally worth the price you paid. I’m glad they came through, though. It would’ve been a death sentence to pay it all off yourself.”

“Yeah, especially since I don’t start my own co-op term till next year,” you grouch.

“Mhm. All that aside, it’s time you started living above that rock of yours,” Ahri says seriously. She pulls out her phone as the food arrives.

You push aside the trickle of disappointment that filters in when the waiter that delivers your respective meals isn’t Jungkook.

“Crash course on your hot new roommates,” she starts, passing the device to you. An unfamiliar YouTube page is opened to a video.

“Jung Hoseok and Park Jimin. Hoseok’s stage name is J-Hope, named after his sunny disposition. He has a YouTube series called Hope on the Street. Jimin runs it with him, and the two do all kinds of dance challenges and covers. They’re also the Co-Presidents of the school’s dance committee. They join the national competitions every year since they took over and have been winning ever since.”

You would think it would be a bit disconcerting seeing the two very diverse dance styles on two very different people on stage, but they don’t fight. They complement each other so brilliantly, it’s hard to tear your eyes away. You can’t decide who to watch, just sitting back to observe the entire frame.

“Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung. They have a vlog series called House of Bangtan. Mostly just random shit with the other guys, but it’s super entertaining and hilarious. Like the kind of content you know is genuine and makes you willing to die just for a chance to be a part of it. That’s how you know the seven of them are really good friends despite the age gaps. They also do challenges and giveaways.”

You’re watching Jin lose a game of charades, and he looks like he’s about to blow a fuse. The camera shakes uncontrollably as Jungkook runs way from his hyung, who’s screaming bloody murder behind him, chasing with the rubber duck he used to cheat with. Sore loser, the youngest mouths to the camera with a grin.

“Jungkook also owns a personal channel called Golden Closet Films. Pretty self-explanatory, but he makes movie clips of stuff like Hoseok and Jimin practising for the showcase and the like. He used to be part of the varsity volleyball team, but had to give it up when he tore his Achilles’ heel. It was pretty devastating for the school, too, since he was one of the best players. Taehyung has an Instagram page full of pictures for his photography collection. They’re super aesthetic. He goes under Vante.”

You scroll through the page, and you can definitely see why he’s so sought for by students and so famous in the department. He has a wicked eye and thinks so vividly outside the box. You also vaguely remember Jungkook’s impromptu early retirement being a huge deal when it happened. You were never really caught up with the school’s news, more academic driven, but you had your share of intramural sports. You imagine ‘devastating’ is a rather underwhelming way of describing that kind of pain.

“Kim Seokjin, or Jin he likes to be called, is a Films major and he’s done a bunch of commercials and modelling gigs. He loves food though, and he has a cooking channel plus an Instagram page. He’s the campus Heartthrob. He’s had that title for over five years. I mean, who can blame him? Do you see the man? He’s fucking cut from the image of perfection!”

Yeah, okay. He does look fucking good. And his cooking looks amazing. You rub your mouth discreetly, making sure you’re not actually physically drooling. You have food right in front of you, for fuck’s sake!

“Min Yoongi, he’s actually the same age as Jin but started late. He used to be an underground rapper by the name of Gloss. Now he works at the studio here with Jiyong and Slow Rabbit. Rumour has it he has a composing deal lined up with BigHit when he graduates. He goes by Suga now. He has a Soundcloud for distributing his self-composed music. I heard he also raps, but no one knows his stage name for that.”

This man is talented. His lyricism is fucking beautiful. Your heart constricts a bit, even though it’s not his voice, it doesn’t soften the hurt. It’s real.

“Kim Namjoon, he was one of our TAs for Business History last semester. He’s really smart. I’m talking grade A book smart. Heard his IQ is somewhere between 140 to 160. He’s crazy intelligent. Okay, but get this – he also composes on the side. He works with Yoongi and they’ve produced some stuff together. Here, listen to this.”

Put two galaxies together, and what do you get? A fucking supercluster and that shit is no joke. Together, they are something else. Someone who sees the world beyond its manmade barriers, someone who criticises, someone who is unflinchingly honest in what lies in the heart. Someone that feels, empathizes. Dreamers.

“So basically, the next year is just going to be me feeling all useless and untalented in a house full of very attractive and single men,” you surmise flatly.

“Yep,” Ahri says cheerfully, stabbing at a lettuce leaf.

“Fucking awesome.”

It’s the incessant knocking that wakes you. The doorbell follows soon after, buzzing loudly as you groan, rolling over.

“Who the f – oh.” You squint, the sunlight merrily blinding you as you open the door.

“___-noona, is now not a good time?” It’s Jimin that speaks, expression worried.

“What time is it?” You murmur, rubbing your temples. Fuck, you definitely drank too much last night. Dara dragged you to some frat party to celebrate your new roommates, who are, ironically enough, now all looking at you with palpable concern.

“It’s twelve,” Namjoon says, eyebrows furrowing. “But we can always come back later if it’s inconvenient for you.”

Oh, shit. Your gaze trails down to the multiple bags and suitcases they’re holding.

“No, no, of course not,” you croak. “Come in. Sorry. I had a long night.” Clearly.

You step to the side, allowing them to file in one by one, before locking the door behind them.

“Cute PJs,” Jin winks as he passes. You look down, horrified. Your pug print pajama pants and flimsy tee are on full display.

You slap your forehead, thoroughly embarrassed. You probably have awful bed head, too.

Running your fingers through the tangled locks, you follow them as they crowd around the living room. Grabbing a box you had the insight to leave on the counter much earlier this week, they tell you what room they’ve picked and you hand them their respective keys.

“Feel free to settle in and do whatever,” you call as you head back to your own room to get ready. “My only rule is that you clean after yourselves. This house is big enough as it is, so cleaning is a hassle. I don’t want to add personal trash into that.”

They make noises of agreement and you shut the door quickly, making your way to the bathroom to take a shower and to scream into a towel for five minutes.

The semester returns with a full swing. You’re nearly knocked over on the first punch, when the syllabus for each class is dropped and you realize you have six assignments due on the same day two weeks from now.

You’ve managed to avoid any further embarrassing interactions with your new roommates, having been bouncing around the city with your soon-to-be-AWOL friends before the term began.

From what you can tell, though, they’re fairly polite and greet you whenever there’s an opportunity. Some try for small talk, like Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok. Jungkook is still skittish and practically flies out the room if you’re in it for too long. Yoongi tends to disappear to his room for long periods of time, but Hoseok had told you it was because he was stacking up on sleep. You guessed his work would soon require much out of him, though how the hibernation storage thing worked was beyond you.

Jin was often out; Namjoon had informed you it was because he had a few other contracts to lock down for modelling and whatnot. Taehyung’s schedule was a bit flaky, since he liked taking impromptu trips around campus and the city whenever inspiration struck.

You said farewells to some of your friends, all boxed and hugged, they promised to call often and FaceTime, to which you knew they would hold their end of the bargain to. You weren’t worried, and wished them well.

Your real point of anxiety was how you were going to survive this year. Word had apparently spread like wildfire that the most eligible bachelors of your university had moved in … together … with you.

You’ve already gotten several rather disturbing messages from unknown numbers. You’re unsurprised but still annoyed. The content gets more disconcerting every time, and at this rate, you’re going to end up having to switch numbers. You’re broke, damn it! Broke. Why can’t people just focus on their own lives for once and chill the fuck out? Your wallet wails.

“Good morning, noona.” His smile is so warm for someone who’s just woken up. How does he look so good doing it, too? He’s got a pair of loose sweats and an oversized shirt on, hair mussed and eyes silted adorably as he yawns. It’s 8:30 in the fucking morning and you already want to run yourself over with a school bus.

“Jimin, hello,” you say distractedly, stuffing your laptop into your bag and snatching your keys from the bowl. “Can’t talk, got class.”

“Wait!” He says, rushing up to meet you. He’s holding a piece of buttered toast in his hand. “Eat something while you go. It’s bad to sit in lecture without a breakfast. You won’t be able to focus.”

“Oh,” you blink. “Thank you.” Your smile softens. Jimin scuffs his bare feet shyly in response. “You’re welcome, noona. Stay safe.”

You never eat breakfast. You either never wake up in time to make anything, or you’re too lazy. This is kind of nice, you admit. Have someone take care of you, or think of you. It’s sweet.

You could get used to this, you decide. But you don’t want to get too comfortable. You’ll only end up missing it when they’re gone.

The toast is oddly delicious.

“There’s a showcase coming up.”

“Yes, and?” You say, phone squished to your cheek as you check the course code of the wrapped textbook you’re holding.

“So you’re going, right?” Ahri demands. You can hear her heels clicking against the concrete as she makes her way to her car.

You stand, huffing as you survey the neat stacks of books you’ve spent the last hour organizing. “You’re joking, right? What reason do I have to be at that showcase? I’ve never gone before and there’s no way I’m going this year,” you answer matter-of-factly as you dust yourself off.

“___, we need you at the front,” your manager calls, poking her head in to flash you an apologetic smile.

You give her a thumbs up before returning to the call. “Look, just because Hoseok and Jimin now share a living accommodation with me and we talk casually does not mean I’m suddenly their best friend. Have fun at work!”

You cut off her protests as you pocket your device decisively.

Of course.

“___!” He beams. “Hi! I didn’t know you worked here.”

“That’s because I usually work the tech section. What can I do for you today, Hoseok-sunbae?” Speak of the devil, you crack a polite smile.

“Just Hoseok, please. I was wondering if you guys sell the code for a digital copy of behavioural economics?” Why are his eyes practically sparkling? How can he be so cheerful?

“Hoseok, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why are you taking a senior economics course as a dance major?” You ask bluntly.

Hoseok splutters, rubbing his neck. “Um. Namjoon said it would be good for me?” He tries.

You look at him strangely, but shrug. It’s not your business anyway. His loss. Though you’re certain he doesn’t care much about his GPA, considering he’s pretty much got a bunch of prestigious studios vying for him already.

“Anything else I can help you with today?” You say as you scan the code.

“Actually … I was wondering if you were coming to the showcase,” Hoseok says, sounding almost shy.

You eye him suspiciously. “Do you want me there to support you or something? I thought this was only the preliminaries or something.”

“I … We’d really like it if you could make it. Jimin and I … we haven’t had much inspiration lately, to be honest,” he admits. His head hangs, like he’s on the verge of defeat. It doesn’t suit him, and you find yourself frowning.

“The last thing we want is to repeat stuff we’ve done before, but I’ve been stumped all summer. Usually I’d be done choreographing everything, but this year … I dunno,” he trails off.

“I understand that, but why would me being there help?” You tap your fingers against the counter. The campus bookstore is fairly empty today, given that you’re closing in half an hour.

“I just … I thought maybe you could be an unbiased third party, that’s all,” Hoseok says awkwardly. “If you don’t, I totally understand! It was just a suggestion, I guess.”

You sigh, pushing the terminal to him as he fumbles for his wallet. “What time is your practice?”

Hoseok’s grin is blinding and you can’t decide if you’re going to greatly regret or thank yourself for this later on.

“Thank you! Friday, at four in AR Studios. You know where the music department is, right? The practise rooms are on the hallway to the left.”

You manage a weak smile. “I’ll be there.”

It’s a Tuesday, and Taehyung’s fallen asleep on the couch.

You’re exhausted, running yourself a bit thin with the amount of work you’ve been putting in already. You perch on the edge, the soft material sinking slightly under your weight, but the angel doesn’t stir.

And you concede he might as well be one, given how ethereal he appears. He hugs a pillow to his chest, expression serene and limbs lax as he slumbers on. His dark-coloured curls obscure his forehead, pink lips parted lightly as he exhales slowly.

Before you can quench the urge, you reach over and brush his fringe from his eyes.

You’re tired. That’s the only explanation you can offer for what happens next.

Taehyung’s hand shoots up to grab your wrist tightly.

And you find yourself falling as he tugs you on top of him. A quiet oomph escapes you as you bracket his body, arms trembling faintly at the sheer proximity.

His expression, half-lidded and hazy, tells you he’s still flitting in and out of consciousness. Suspended, like he’s replaying his dream in real life.

His smile is lopsided as he cups your cheek, thumbing your cheekbones tenderly. His touch is feverish, so warm it startles you when he guides your palm to his chest, two buttons undone already.

“Heart,” he whispers, and you inhale sharply. His voice breaks, tone anguished and defeated. It both shocks and scares you.

“Taehyung,” you say shakily, ignoring the fluttering beat of his heart and the blood rushing in your ears to press your forehead against his. “Taehyung, you’re burning up.”

“I finally found you,” he sighs, and it alarms you to see he’s fading fast, eyes flickering as he sinks into the couch. “Where did you go, heart? You promised …”

“Promised? Promised what? Tae, what are you talking about?” You say frantically, shaking him lightly. His head rolls and he manages a weak chuckle. “You finally called me Tae again …”

Your eyebrows knit. “What …?” Before you manage anything more, Taehyung collapses.

“He’ll be alright. He’s got a pretty high fever, but it should break by tonight.” Seokjin sounds so self-assured and calm that you find yourself relaxing.

You’ve been fretting, pacing restlessly as you waited for the eldest to return. You contacted him the moment Taehyung knocked out, anxious and unsure of what to do next. The room filled with his laboured breathing, and you tried to alleviate some of the heat by resting a cool towel on his forehead.

The house was typically empty for the day, everyone off to their respective classes and work. The boys usually congregated at night, for dinner and the movies or games that followed. They’ve invited you several times, but you declined each time. You’ve been … busy.

You hesitated on doing more, considering how little you truly knew of Taehyung. You weren’t sure he’d appreciate you accidentally poisoning him with the wrong dose of medication. That, and invading his personal space.

Seokjin opted to buy some medication on his way back instead, and the photography major seems to sleep a bit easier now.

The eldest gives the patient one last once-over before rising to his feet.

“I might as well make dinner, then. Want to come along?” He asks lightly. You follow him to kitchen, shaking your head guiltily. “I’m sorry for making you come back so early. I just didn’t know what else to do. Everyone else was so busy, and—”

“—And I’m the only real adult, I know,” Seokjin says, chuckling. “I’m glad you called. I was about done with my shoot anyway.”

You linger at the island counter awkwardly as you watch him tie an apron to his waist and comb through the fridge for ingredients.

“Sunbae …,” you falter, but he beckons you forward with an encouraging smile. You’re relieved to see he doesn’t seem upset the slightest, though you honestly can’t say you know him enough to determine whether it was sincere or merely a practised mask.

“Jin, please. I’m not that much older, truth be told,” he tells you as you wash the rice.

“Then, Jin … Is Taehyung … with someone right now?” You keep your gaze trained to your task, draining the murky water so carefully you miss the way Seokjin tenses.

“Why? Do you have your sights set on our baby?” Seokjin says lightly, but his voice hints of strain, and he glances at you from the corner of his eye.

You snort unintentionally, coughing quickly to cover it up. “Hardly. I was just wondering.”

“Did he do something weird? Taehyung can act pretty strange when he’s out of it like that. He’ll say or do pretty weird things when he’s drunk or has a really high fever,” Seokjin explains as he pours the vegetables he’s cut into the pot on the stove.

“Oh,” you say as you plug the machine in. “I see.” The rice maker beeps, and you excuse yourself politely.

Thursday is a disaster. You’d hoped he’d keep his distance, given you’d been quite clear the last time you spoke. But of course -

“You’re avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know you’ve been dodging me since we moved in. Why?”

“Don’t you dare turn this on me. You’re the only person that’s been lying since we met. You made your point very clear that day, and you moving in? It doesn’t change a damn thing. Now tell me what you want or get out. I’m done with your shit.”

“You can’t mean that. You know I didn’t have a choice!”

“You did have a choice. Me, or that damn reputation of yours. You told me to go to hell. What more do you want?”

“You know that’s not what I meant. I didn’t know—”

“Didn’t know what? That it would mean I would lose everything? I didn’t mean shit to you. I don’t know why I ever thought I could trust you.”

“If I had known, I would’ve—”

“Would have what? Tried harder? Bull. Shit. You don’t care about anything but yourself and your career. You can tell yourself different, but you and I both know if I hadn’t trusted you, I wouldn’t be in this position. You did this to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your weakass excuse for an apology. I said I was done with you and I am. This is the last time I’m going to sit here and listen to you pretend you’re the victim. For the sake of peace, I will play niceties with you in front of your friends, but make no mistake: You can’t turn back time. You cannot change what happened, you cannot fix it, you cannot make it better. So go away. Don’t talk to me. Don’t seek me out. We’re not friends. We’ll never be anything ever again. I hope, in time, I can forget you ever existed at all.”

“I’m going to make this right, I swear. I love you more than anything, and I’ll spend the rest of my life if I have to proving it to you.”

“Please just go.”

You stare out the window, the city lights blinding in the night skyline. The glass reflects the emptiness in your eyes, and there’s only deafening silence that’s shattered in the next beat by the slamming of your door.

Hugging your arms to your chest, you refuse to acknowledge the sharp sting in your eye.

You wish you’d never met him.

“Just … be careful,” Yoongi says quietly. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him outside of their initial tour. “Housing wasn’t the only reason some of us are here.”

You stifle a sigh. All you wanted was some water, not another 2 am detox on everything wrong in your life.

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask carefully. His hand pauses on the doorknob.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” is all he says.

You’re left to ponder his warning as he disappears into his room. Your phone lights up in your hand.

[01:25] Unknown: I need to see you. Can we talk?

#jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jin x reader #ot7 x reader #ggukienet #hyunglinenetwork #networkbangtan #btsguild #jungkook fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #heartbeat

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