A request for the prompt "Stolen kisses" + Zayne!! Thank you so much :D
also I love your writing SOO much <3
prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed
49. stolen kisses
zayne; 1,720 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, but still very saucy, zayne is hornee 24/7 and hes not afraid to show it
summary: 3 kisses, some stolen, others willingly given
a/n: i believe in my heart of hearts that zayne is barely keeping it together around the mc
one. After dinner, when the pair of you are cleaning up and your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back into him as he presses a kiss to your neck before trailing his lips up to your cheek. Your laughter rings through the kitchen, folding around the pair of you like wings. His smile is soft, is radiant, is tender and absolute as he pulls back to regard you with his searching eyes.
“Good dinner?” he asks.
“The best,” you answer, grinning as you trail a finger along his jaw to tangle your fingers in his hair.
“Good…” he breathes the word against your cheek, leaning in, the ends of his bangs tickling the skin of your face. You make to pull back, but his arms loop tighter around your waist, pressing you close, holding you against the solid cool of the marble countertop.
“But we haven’t yet had dessert.”
Heat flushes up your neck and up, up, up till you can feel your face burning, as you blink up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning innocence.
“I didn’t know we had dessert planned on the menu.”
His grin goes sideways, his eyes taking on a darker, more dangerous light.
“It’s not always planned but…” his voice trails off as a tingling shiver races up your spine, “It is always… considered.”
And then, he leans in to kiss you — and he kisses you with a hunger that has nothing to do with the scrumptious meal you’ve just shared and everything to do with the pulsing heat coalescing between your bodies as he lifts you up onto the counter.
He kisses you like he wants to ruin your mouth for all other tastes but him; he kisses you as if he’s already been ruined by the taste of you.
two. It is unprofessional; you know — and so does he — to do this here, with your back pressed against the wood of his office door, his white coat slipping off his shoulders, his glasses nearly knocked askance by the force of this kiss.
You’d always known that just beneath his smooth, tempered glass facade is the kind of roiling heat that makes up the heart of the earth, the kind of passion that licked at the mouths of volcanoes and rends the sky into nothing but a devastation of ashes.
But here, now, the only rending is his fingers pressing into the dip of your waist, the only devastation his tongue as it traces along the inside of your teeth. You hear yourself make a low, wanton noise and feel him react, his fingers tightening impossibly, his mouth ever and ever more demanding.
“Z-Zayne… we —” but the words die on your lips as he drops his to the bare skin of your neck. You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your mouth, nor the sudden flash of memory — crystal clear and sharp, as if carved from ice — of the night before, when he had sunk his teeth into your bare shoulder and twisted your hair with trembling fists. It had been pain and impossible, improbable passion. All urge and fire, desperation and need.
“Shhh…” Zayne murmurs against your skin, groaning softly as he finds your lips with his own again. And you are helpless all over again. Weak against the burning need of his embrace.
A soft knock shocks both of you from the frenzied passion soaking through your bones, threatening to blot out your good sense entirely. You pull apart, gasping. From the other side of the door comes the muffled voice of a nurse -
“Dr. Zayne? Your next patient is here. Shall I let him in?”
Zayne hisses out another breath before pulling away.
“Yes, just give me five minutes - finishing a report.”
You can't help the amused grin that tugs across your lips as the both of you make to tidy the slight mess you've made.
“So… I'm a report now, am I?”
But Zayne only regards you with a light, challenging look, quirking his brows.
“No.”
You blink, confused. Then Zayne smiles.
“We’re nowhere near finished.”
A fresh wave of heat crests up into your cheeks as you purse your lips, casting your eyes anywhere but Zayne's pleased face.
“Unprofessional,” you accuse, through the word lacks any vehemence, marred by the extensive blush still coloring your cheeks.
Zayne straightens his impeccably pressed white doctor's coat before taking three swift steps into your space, his chest nearly pushing against yours. He reaches out to tilt your chin up towards him and you feel a hitched breath caught like an insect in amber, suspended perfectly between your lungs and your throat.
Slowly, Zayne draws his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip. You feel his breath fanning across it like a wave of summer heat, found at the heart of winter itself.
“Only in front of you.”
He pulls away just as another gentle knock comes at the door, the nurse's voice announcing the arrival of Zayne's next patient. Zayne casts you one last lingering, meaningful look before gently nudging you aside to pull open the door, the vision of a young and promising doctor as he greets his patient with a small smile, the other hand guiding you towards the opened door.
"Don't forget to take your supplements,” he chides in a voice just gentle enough to inform polite company of his fondness for you, but nothing in it would hint at the indiscretions that had been committed only minutes prior.
"Okay,” you say, ducking your head as you brush by the middle- aged man blinking at the pair of you.
"And… see you at home.”
You only manage a nod and a squeak as the nurse chuckles behind her hand and the middle- aged man makes a soft noise of understanding.
three. You are both eighteen, and teetering on the edge of adulthood — though he’s already well on his way to stardom.
“Congrats — on the Starcatcher Award —“ you feel your throat catch around the words, and suddenly, your mouth is dry, your cheeks hot, your fingers twisting behind your back as you rock on the balls of your feet.
Zayne watches you, his expression thoughtfully blank, but his eyes — they’ve always been his tell. You meet them and search them and feel the fire caught behind them. His Evol might be ice, but… his soul has always been something that burns.
“Thanks,” he says, and you can almost taste the unsaid words bubbling just at the back of his throat. You wish he would tell you, but there’s a depthless chasm cut into the air between the pair of you, rough and jagged and —
“Do you know what I received the award for?”
You blink, startled. You purse your lips, looking away. It��d been too painful, too much to look into it, the knowledge of his brilliance always nipping at your heels like an unruly dog. It had pushed you forward, yes, but only out of the fear that if you let up even one single step, he’d race too far ahead and… leave you behind.
“N-no — I haven’t —“
“For my research on congenital heart defects in infants.”
The world slows, tunnels, and tilts around you. Your eyes jerk up to meet his and there — you see it, the blistering heart of all his so-called fire — and you remember suddenly that if it’s cold enough, the body starts to process the sensation as heat. That ice and fire are not so different.
That ice can also burn.
You find your own hands clutched just above where your heart beats inside your chest and you see his eyes flicker down towards them.
“Zayne —“
“I start work at a clinic next week.”
A frown creases at your temple.
“Our first appointment is on Tuesday.”
Your frown deepens.
“What do you —“
“To qualify for the Hunter Program, you need a medical verification of fitness. And… a primary care physician.”
At these last words, his eyes finally cut away. And here, in the dying light of his brand new living room, the sunset turns his glasses opaque for just a second. You’re left blinking in the aftermath of that light, the afterimages will be stained behind your eyelids for hours after — just that look, the firm line of his shoulders, the determined set of his mouth, his jaw, the softness in his fingers as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the bend of your cheek.
“L-Lying on reports would be a medical malpractice suit waiting to happen,” you say, your voice shaking with either delirium or emotion, you’re not sure which.
Zayne quirks an eyebrow, “I have no plans on lying.”
“But —“ your fingers clench at your chest.
“I’m just… confident in my own skills, that’s all.”
The shadow of a grin twists his lips and he turns back to you, his eyes cast in threads of molten gold.
“Oh… of course,” you let out a soft breath of laughter, toppling back into the sofa and tossing your arm across your eyes. A moment later, you feel the cushions of the sofa sink beside you.
“Hey, look at me.”
You drop your arm and turn, your head still pillowed against the back of the sofa. Zayne’s gaze flickers over every aspect of your face before he reaches out to take your hand in his. Slowly, he leans down to press his lips to your knuckles, letting his lips linger there till you make a soft, questioning noise at the back of your throat.
He looks back up with a knowing smile.
“Shall we get something to eat?”
You jump to your feet, “Y-yes! My treat — a congratulations gift!”
Zayne considers for a moment before sighing, “Alright, but just this once.”
“What, we’re not allowed to go out to dinner now that you’re a certified doctor?”
Zayne’s mouth twitches with amusement as he reaches for his coat.
“No, we’ll still go out for dinner — you’re just no longer allowed to pay for them.”
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smitten: y/n (reluctantly) agrees to go to jimin's big halloween bash and she forgot how much she actually hated parties
➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader
➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook and smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boohoo angsty wattpady fic of your dreams!! the pining and yearning is off the charts!! jimin’s still an asshole but what’s new!!
➺ wordcount; 9.2k
➺ summary; putting on a smile while watching ji-eun cuddle up to jungkook is already hard enough, but when y/n is (reluctantly) invited to jimin’s massive halloween party, she can’t help but even more out of place.
➺ what to expect; “you know, you’re my best friend and i wanna make sure that everything is… good between us.”
➺ currently playing on cee.fm; favourite crime [olivia rodrigo]
➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]; part two [the incriminating note]; part three [the date]
»»————- 👻 ————-««
you’re pretty sure you’re in hell.
you’re not sure what you did in your past life to have deserved this, but past-life y/n must’ve killed a baby or set an entire village on fire or something to that degree because you’re pretty sure that in this current timeline, you’re in hell
you stay quiet as you munch on your (slightly soggy, unfortunately) sandwich, scrolling through your phone (but not really paying attention to your instagram feed because apparently you’re a glutton for punishment and you keep wanting to look up and just stare at jungkook and ji-eun in all their coupley glory) while your foot taps anxiously against the ground
you know that if you say you can sit somewhere else to give the two of them some privacy that jungkook will insist that you stay, but you feel like the longer you sit here the faster the people around you will see that you’re just a big ol’ monster truck sized third wheel
you could lie and say that you have to go to the library to get some work done, but jungkook’s really good at knowing when you’re lying to him (apparently you have VERY obvious tells which you were very unaware of) so that’s not going to be a feasible plan either
it’s just that being here is incredibly uncomfortable but it seems like the only option you have is to stay and sit through it — which, again, reiterates your point of you being pretty sure you’re being punished for something you did in your past life
“my handsome boy…” ji-eun giggles lightly, reaching over to adjust the collar of jungkook’s jacket before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, “i like this jacket a lot.”
“yeah?” he gives his girlfriend a boyish grin, looking down at his jacket before looking back up at her, “lucky for you, you can borrow it anytime you’d like-“ you glance up at them, the little voice in your brain stopping you from interrupting them to say that that is a nice jacket because you chose it for jungkook — and you feel like that comment could potentially lump you into the pick-me-girl-best-friend category which you’d very much like to avoid
“borrow? no, i’m stealing it-“
“no way! i got this thrifted for, like, fifteen bucks, i’m not letting you steal it-“
“alright, then you better sleep with one eye open the next time i stay over at yours because this is a nice jacket-“
you can’t help but look over at the empty seat next to you on the bench as you let out a quiet sigh… you have never felt so horribly single in your entire life.
and it doesn’t help that it’s cuffing szn this cuffing szn that all over your social media — your tiktok feed has not been very friendly to you as of late, the app flooded with countless videos of cute couples bundling up for the colder seasons
if anything you need to be cuffed to the wall before you go crazy and rip your eyelashes out from frustration
unsurprisingly, jungkook and ji-eun are a couple now, but really, are you surprised? jungkook is great, ji-eun is great, they went on a great first date (thanks to you, let’s be honest) and all the dates after that went well too because it lead to jungkook asking ji-eun if she wanted to be exclusive with him
you knew that things were going well when jungkook started hanging out with you less and less
and then when they officially got together, you didn’t think it could possibly get any worse but your already puny twice a week hangouts turned into two hours a week before he’d zip off to spend time with ji-eun
in fact, within the last two weeks, he’s only hung out with you once… which is fine, because you understand the honeymoon stage and you understand how giddy people can be when they get into a brand new relationship and just want to spend all their time with this new person
you know for sure that if you were the one who’d gotten into a new relationship, you’d definitely want to spend as much time with your person because why wouldn’t you want to do that? you really can’t blame the guy
you have other friends you can hang out with, but it’s just not as fun because even when you’re having a good time with them, your mind keeps wandering back to what jungkook is doing with ji-eun
and of course, when jungkook mentioned to you over a quick lunch one afternoon that he was planning on asking ji-eun to make things official, it’s not like you could tell him that it was a horrible idea and that he shouldn’t be dating ji-eun without ruffling feathers and raising brows of suspicion
the only person it would be a horrible idea for would be you, and you’re not enough of a dickhead to ruin a potentially good thing because of your own desires
and obviously, she said yes because why wouldn’t she say yes?
…
you know, there really isn’t a way for you to talk about this situation without sounding like the most bitter person on the planet, so perhaps you should move on now
“okay, i’m putting you two on drinks duty for the party!” jimin seems to appear out of thin air and you turn your head to look at him standing at the front of the table with an armful of flyers and the usual bossy, snarky persona that literally drains you every time you have an interaction with him, “unless you’re too busy making out to handle that.”
“no, we can handle it-“ ji-eun rolls her eyes playfully, pulling away from jungkook before reaching over and plucking the list from jimin’s slim fingers, “jesus, jimin. twelve bottles of vodka??”
“i’ll give you my credit card, just put all the charges on it-“ jimin shrugs, sliding in next to you before nudging you over a little, “this is going to be my greatest party yet. i’m charging $10 an admission and i’m renting out this huge house- i don’t think you can even comprehend how massive this party is going to be. it’s gonna be so much better than last year’s one.”
“i remember hearing about your party last year!” you chime in, offering jimin a polite smile even though he’s not looking at you, “it sounded like it was super fun.”
“so, you guys are on drinks, so that’s covered-“ jimin makes a tick on his clipboard before nodding to himself, “decor is covered, catering is covered, rent for the night is covered…”
you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek, slumping in your seat a little and resisting the urge to roll your eyes
you still have no clue what jimin’s problem is with you, but at this point you’ve gotten used to the way he acts like you literally do not exist at all
you mentioned it to jungkook one time, wondering if maybe you were just looking too far into it and that there was nothing to take personally to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod and a “no, i also get the vibe that he doesn’t like you and i have no idea why… just let him be an ass if he wants to be one, don’t stoop to his level. life is too short to waste energy on weird people.”
so if jimin wants to continue being an ass to you, you’re just gonna let it roll off you like water off a duck’s back
“funny enough, y/n and i were gonna go to your party last year, but the kids in y/n’s building were trick or treating so we decided to stay home and watch horror movies and hand out candy instead-“ jungkook clears his throat, eyes flickering over to you for a brief second, “we also, like, decorated the doorway like it was a haunted apartment to freak the kids out. and y/n had this great idea to have a cauldron filled with warm spaghetti and she told the kids it was brain stew-“
“oh my god, i forgot about that-“ you snort, “i feel like we should’ve done, like, warm pudding instead or something, but the spaghetti kinda had the same effect and my kitchen smelled like an italian restaurant for two weeks after that-“
“let’s talk costumes!” jimin interrupts you, smacking his palm down on the table before pointing his pen at ji-eun and jungkook, “please don’t show up in anything tacky.”
“we were thinking barbie and ken!” ji-eun grins, “not tacky, totally trendy — i know we probably won’t be the only barbie and kens in the room, but it’s just so trendy and i loved her pink sequinned cowboy outfit- or if that’s not available, i think the 80s skater costumes were a vibe-“
“i can’t whait to talk about horshes and capitahlism wiv a bunch of ovher kensj.” jungkook laughs lightly with a mouthful of sandwich, dabbing his mouth with his napkin before crumpling it up into a ball and tossing it at you
you scowl playfully when it bounces off your forehead and lands on the ground
“you could go as allen, y/n. that’d be pretty funny.” jungkook swallows his bite, and you want to tell him that he doesn’t have to include you in every part of the conversation because you can practically see the pity for you radiating off of him in waves
you know for a fact he feels bad that he’s not been able to hang out with you as much lately because every time you do hang out he always brings you a drink or a snack with sympathetic little puppy dog eyes
and every time you have lunch with him and ji-eun he’s always making an effort to include you in the conversation — especially when jimin is around because again, it’s pretty clear the guy doesn’t like you
you and jungkook spent an entire afternoon trying to figure out why he didn’t like you so much, but you couldn’t come up with any conclusive results, so now whenever jimin is around, jungkook makes even more effort to include you in the conversation
“allen was my favourite character, so that’s not even a bad idea.” you chirp, pulling out one of the flyers from jimin’s neat pile before looking at it for the details
“oh, right. yeah, you can come too, i guess.” jimin clears his throat quietly, taking the flyer back from you with a chuckle, “…you don’t seem like you’d have anything crazy going on on a friday night.”
“i can come too? i thought that everyone was invited to this thing?” you raise an eyebrow, pointing to the little note on the flyer, “all it says is general admission.”
“…right.” jimin smiles sweetly at you, “and i suppose i’ll waive the fee for you since you’re… friends with jungkook.”
“how sweet of you.” you respond curtly, offering a smile just as sweet before letting it drop as soon as he looks away
you are absolutely dreading having to go to this party.
»»————- 👻 ————-««
“are you sure you don’t want us to come and pick you up? ji-eun has space in her car, you’d just have to sit in the back with all the drinks n stuff-“
“i’m good, jungkook, really-“ you mutter, pausing for a second to smudge out your lipstick before leaning back in your chair and turning side to side to look at your finished look
not that this is jungkook’s fault, but the fact that the two of you really haven’t been hanging out as often gave you a lot of time to think about what you wanted to dress up as for jimin’s halloween costume, and after a solo spooky movie binge the other weekend, you decided that you wanted to dress up as emily from the corpse bride
sure, it’s been done so many times — but you love the movie and you love emily and you had so much time to get everything you needed for this costume so why not dress up as her??
you reach up to adjust your blue wig, tugging at it slightly to make sure it’s nice and secure
“i’m just gonna uber there! plus, my place is kind of out of the way if you guys are already headed to jimin’s.” you clear your throat, “thank you for the offer though. make sure to let ji-eun know i really appreciate the gesture.”
“okay, i will…” jungkook murmurs, and you can tell by the tone in his voice that he wants to say something but he’s holding himself back, “i guess i’ll see you at the party, then? we’ll probably be there in about forty minutes.”
“yes, i’ll see you guys at the party.” you nod, wiping the leftover blue lipstick on your fingers on a tissue before reaching over to get ready to press the hangup button
“y/n?” jungkook’s voice crackling out from your phone speaker makes you pause, and you pull your hand back
“yea?”
“we’re- we’re good, right?” the question is somewhat of a surprise to you due to its weirdly serious, non-jungkook nature, your eyes flickering down to look at the contact photo you have set for your friend
he grins like a maniac at the camera, eyes wide and lit up with excitement at the cheesy corn dog he’s holding in front of him
the corner of your mouth twitches in a fond smile at the memory of that day — jungkook was convinced he’d be able to eat three corn dogs in one sitting and the day ended with him basically destroying your toilet and then refusing to let you use it until the smell cleared out
“what do you mean?” you clear your throat quietly, lips parting to say something else before you press them together and decide against it
“i mean- i know we haven’t been hanging out a lot lately so i just-“ jungkook coughs, “you know, you’re my best friend and i wanna make sure that everything is… good between us.”
“i-“ you pause again, gaze averting to the side as you think about his comment
if you’re being completely honest, you don’t think everything is good between the two of you — the first reason why being the fact that you are still completely and utterly head over heels in love with him, and the second reason being that he’s in a relationship with someone else and you’re really not sure how much more of this you can take before you go insane
but this isn’t exactly something you can hash out over a crackly phone call, and you’re really not in the mood to potentially destroy two relationships at once
you really don’t know what you’re going to do about this emotional mess, but what you do know is that you’re going to have to take it day by day until you’re eventually ready to face it head on — and tonight, your only job is to smile, enjoy being young, and have lots of fun at what you’re sure is going to be an amazing party despite it being hosted by someone who hates your guts for no reason
“we’re- we’re good, kook.” you manage to push out, despite the words practically fighting their way out of your mouth, “you’re my best friend, too.”
“okay. so i’ll see you soon?”
“yea.” you look at yourself in the vanity mirror, wondering if the sadness in your eyes will make your costume that much more believable, “i’ll see you soon.”
»»————- 👻 ————-««
the six pack of lime seltzer water (you got the fancy kinds in glass bottles) clinks in their cardboard carrier as you walk on the sidewalk, blue heels clicking against the pavement as you follow the path leading up towards the house that-
“holy shit.” your jaw drops at the sheer size of this literal mansion — what looks to be an endless number of burgundy bricks separated by neat, thin layers of cement that are stacked on top of each other, two large, white columns that cast identical shadows on the curved sidewalk leading up to the large, black front door, and not to mention, the insane halloween decorations: huge spider webs stretched over the door and windows, fairy lights wrapped around the columns, a stack of pumpkins sitting by the front steps kardashian-style
you don’t like jimin but you have to hand it to him, he sure can throw a party
“s’cuse us, sorry!” a trio of girls dressed up as sluttier versions of the powerpuff girls brush past you, bubbles turning around to shoot you a grin, “love your costume, by the way!”
“oh, thank you!” your face immediately breaks into a wide grin, “you guys look great, too-“
the random compliment lifts your mood up slightly — you know you’re more than capable of making friends anywhere you go, so if jungkook is too busy mingling with the other couples, you know you’ll be fine
and hopefully jimin will be too busy playing host to give you any attitude tonight
you lift your dress up as you make your way up the steps, the corners of your mouth lifting in an excited smile when you see taehyung standing by the door greeting people and collecting their $10 by… having them tuck the bills into the waistband of his boxers
“magic mike?” you laugh, taehyung’s right eye dropping in a wink before thrusts his hips towards you
“you know it, baby-“ he coos, reaching over to pinch the fabric of your dress to pull you towards him, your cheeks flushing when you stumble into his chest, “be nice to me and i’ll give you a lil lap dance in one of the private rooms-“
“taehyung, i swear to god, do not let any of those bills fall into your boxers because i’m not touching anything that touched your penis-“ jimin pops up behind taehyung dressed in a veryaccurate joker costume, his usual blonde hair dyed completely green for the look
“hi, welcome to the party, $10 an admiss-“ the sweet smile immediately drops from his face when he realises it’s you, jimin leaning back slightly, “wow, corpse bride!” jimin nods, looking you up and down, “seems fitting.” he mutters under his breath, watching as taehyung tapes the neon orange bracelet around your wrist
“nice to see you too, jimin.” you raise an eyebrow, lifting the six pack up with your other hand, “i didn’t want to come empty-handed, so i brought some drinks!”
“you brought six drinks for a house party? six sparkly waters, too… interesting.” jimin scoffs lightly, plucking the carrier from you before offering you a saccharine sweet smile, “how thoughtful of you. drinks are in the kitchen - first two shots are free, and then it’s $15 a shot after that. cocktails are $5 each, mocktails are $3- you seem like a shirley temple girl anyway- and all of it can be paid through venmo. the bartender will answer any other questions you have. bathrooms are upstairs, and the results to the costume competition will be announced at the end of the night. there are fifteen winners, and the votes are made by everyone here, so you might have a shot at winning something here.” jimin steps aside, gesturing towards the party, “have fun!”
“thank you, jimin.” you smile politely, stepping into the house and immediately rolling your eyes as soon as you turn away from him
so you weren’t able to completely avoid his dickheadedness, but hopefully that’ll be your only interaction with him tonight considering he’s probably going to be busy playing businessman all night
$15 a shot is kind of insane, though
you keep your phone pressed flush to your chest as you manoeuvre your way through the packed floor, the neon lights flashing and disco ball glimmering from above making it damn near impossible to navigate this place without bumping into backs and stepping on toes
the DJ pumps his arm up into the air as he continues spinning his fingers against the discs, the crowd going wild as the song builds up to the chorus
you can already tell that most of the people here are drunk (you can smell it, too) and you know, if you can’t beat ‘em, why not join them?
you can find jungkook later, and alcohol is definitely going to make this night a little easier to handle
“hi!” you smack your hands down on the marble countertop when you finally make your way to the bar, the vampire bartender turning to glance at you over his shoulder before tossing a cloth over his shoulder, “i want- something. shots, a drink, anything-“ your voice is already straining from the way you’re basically screaming over the music but this seems to be the proper way to communicate at a party like this
“wait, y/n?” your eyes light up when you realise that it’s none other than namjoon in charge of the drinks (and you wonder if your friendship with him will mean he gives you more drinks without charging you for it) and you let out a gasp as you lean over the counter to grasp onto his wrist
“namjoon!” you grin, “oh my god, thank god, finally someone i know at this damn party. why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here??”
“why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here?! i haven’t seen you at the library at all, otherwise i definitely would’ve talked to you about it- what can i get for you?”
“top-shelf tequila, baby. i saw the list of brands that jimin bought - i want the most expensive one.” you raise an eyebrow, namjoon laughing to himself before nodding
“alright, i gotcha- you need any chasers with that?”
“you got cranberry juice?”
“for you, i’ve got anything-“ namjoon smirks, holding a finger up to excuse himself
it’s five seconds later that you’re presented with not one, not two, but three shots of tequila, namjoon winking at you as he slides the cranberry juice chasers over to you as well
“you better take these before jimin realises i’ve given you a freebie- i’m about to take a break here, someone else is gonna come in a sec to replace me- you wanna dance?”
“um, of course i do!” you can’t help but squeal excitedly, “take one with me!” you push a shot glass towards him, namjoon shrugging before picking up the shot and downing it in less than two seconds
you take your second shot, eyes squinting as the burn of alcohol trickles down your throat
you immediately shudder, reaching for the cranberry juice and tossing it down the hatch
“oh, jesus-“ you hiss, shuddering against before sticking your tongue out in disgust, “god, that cranberry juice does not help whatsoever-!” you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before namjoon has his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, giggles bubbling out of your mouth as he drags you towards the crowded dance floor to join the rest of the drunken crowd
»»————- 👻 ————-««
okay, so maybe this party didn’t turn out to be as bad as you thought it was going to be!
“that- oh my god-!” you throw your head back in laughter when namjoon pulls out the worst dance moves you’ve ever seen, your eyes pinching shut as you clutch at your stomach
you’re not sure how much time has passed (to be fair, it’s gonna be hard to tell how much time has passed when you’re at a massive house party with flashing lights and nothing but the sound of speakers booming to guide you) but you know you’ve been having a lot more fun with namjoon than you’ve had with jungkook these last few weeks) ((in fact you’re having so much fun that you almost forgot you were supposed to be heartbroken that the love of your life is with someone else, but also, that could probably be the alcohol taking over))
you know at some point you’re going to have to go over and say hi to jungkook eventually because you don’t want him to think that you’re purposely ignoring him or something — after all, it’s not his fault that he likes ji-eun and it’s not something you can pin on him and grill him for — but for now, you’re going to dance a little more, sing a little more, and-
“i gotta pee!” you gasp all of a sudden, realising that you haven’t peed once since coming here and there’s a lot of tequila sloshing around in your system
“what?” namjoon furrows his brows, reaching up to tap against his ear, “too loud, can’t hear you!”
“i gotta go pee!” you repeat yourself, pointing towards the staircase leading upstairs, “’m gonna go pee n then ‘m gonna come right back-“
“oh, pee?” namjoon nods, finally catching your words before stepping aside a little, “okay, i’ll be right here!”
»»————- 👻 ————-««
the silence of the bathroom is more than welcome as soon as you step in and flick the lights on, not at all surprised to see a pair of elegant looking wall sconces lighting up the space
you squint your eyes as you lean into the mirror, double checking that your makeup is still somewhat intact and you don’t look insane
“hm. not bad.” you mutter to yourself, turning your head from side to side before nodding, reaching down to pull the endless amounts of tulle up so you can hopefully not piss all over yourself in your tipsy state
…
…
…
you set the lid down as the toilet flushes, turning the tap on and rinsing your hands underneath the cool water
“oh, damn-“ you wince when you realise you’re washing some of the blue body paint away and you quickly turn the tap off, shaking the water off your hands before reaching for a neatly folded cotton towelette of course, because regular paper towels aren’t fancy enough for a park jimin party
you give yourself one last glance in the mirror (you could use a little more lipstick but it’s dark down there so no one’s going to be able to tell anyway) before flicking the lights off
“oops! i’m sorry-“ you apologise instinctively when you open the door and stumble right into someone, taking a few steps back before looking up to see that it’s jimin, “oh, hey…” you clear your throat quietly, standing up a little straighter before offering him a meek smile
you always feel like you’re in trouble when you’re around jimin and it’s the worst feeling in the world
like he’s the principal and you just got caught cheating on a test and he’s about to call home to tell your parents as punishment
or he’s an officer and he’s about to test you with the breathalyser and you know you’re going to fail because you definitely can’t walk in a straight line right now
“why am i not surprised that you clearly don’t know how to handle alcohol?” jimin snorts, holding his hands out in case you fall over, “you better not throw up all over me, this suit is custom made-“
“i wasn’t throwing up in the bathroom, i just went in there to pee-“ you roll your eyes, placing both hands on your hips before shaking your head, “you are ridiculous, you know that? even if i was throwing up in your stupid fancy toilets, the normal thing to do would be to ask if me i was okay and if i needed some water! you- you are just so self-centred and just-“
“yeah, uh-huh-“ jimin reaches up to pat the side of your face with a smile, “by the way, if you were looking for jungkook, he’s at the VIP booth with ji-eun and the rest of us.”
“oh, perfect!” you nod, thankful for the information, “i’ll pop over and say hi in a bit, i think it’d be good to sit down too because my heels are kind of killing me and i wouldn’t be surprised if i had, like, a million blisters right now-“
“woah, i never said you were allowed to be in the booth with us.” jimin scoffs, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you from moving, “silly girl.”
your lips part slightly as you look at him, and for a moment the only thing that can be heard is the faint boom and bass of the music playing from downstairs
“are you… serious?” you ask, unsure if jimin’s joking with you or not
the bored expression on his face tells you that he is indeed, super serious
all of this just feels so incredibly cliquey and immature and stupid and you know that you’re supposed to be the bigger person because jimin clearly won’t be and you like to think that you’re ten times more emotionally mature than him but he’s making it harder and harder for you to not want to shred up his nice suit with a pair of scissors and cuss him out in front of everyone
“i’m dead serious. i’m just telling you this so that you don’t embarrass yourself when your drunk ass stumbles over and tries to join us.” jimin says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world, “enjoy the rest of the party, sweetheart.” he brushes past you to head into the washroom and-
“you’re a fucking dickhead, you know that?” you snap, jimin stopping in his tracks before turning his head slightly so you can just make out the side of his face, “i think i’ve been nothing but nice to you ever since i met you, and to be honest, i can’t even think of one reason why you are constantly so fucking rude and overall just unpleasant to me. i don’t say anything when you purposely cut me out of the conversation, i don’t nag when you ignore my questions and comments but respond to everyone else’s, and most importantly, i’ve never called you out for being a jackass when i think i’ve had every chance and opportunity to. if you have a problem with me, then just say so so that we can hash this stupid weird rivalry out and just get along. your best friend and my best friend are in a relationship, and i think it’s in everyone’s best interest that we at least try to get along-“
“oh, shut the fuck up, y/n.” jimin scoffs, turning around to face you, “you know, you always act like you’re better than everyone else, that’s why i don’t like you.”
you feel your shoulders stiffen at the comment before you shrug, crossing your arms over your chest, “well, i’m sorry if i’ve given you that impression but that’s not my intention, i don’t think i’m better than you, i don’t think i’m better than everyone else, and i can’t control how you feel about me but-“
“oh my god, even when you’re confronting me about being a dickhead to you you’re still being a sensible goddamn person, it’s like you’re purposely trying to piss me off-“
“okay, well, i’m not going to apologise to you for literally being myself because there’s nothing i can do about it. this is a you problem, not a me problem, so if you insist on being such an unreasonable drama queen for however long we’re going to have to spend time together, then i think the solution here is just for you to ignore me — which, you’re already doing a stellar job of, congratulations — and in return, i’ll happily ignore you.”
“i hate when people aren’t themselves. i pick up on that shit right away, and i gotta tell you, y/n, you might be the fakest person of them all.”
“what the hell are you talking about?”
“i think we both know you’re hiding something from all of us. i think you’re hiding something from yourself, too. i think you’re lying to yourself.”
there’s a pregnant pause in the conversation and for a second you want to ask him what exactly he’s implying here, but…
“alright, jimin, well-“ you turn around to head towards the stairs, “you’re fuckin’ being weird, and i’m just trying to have a good time, so i’m just gonna go back down-“
“yeah, have a wonderful rest of your evening, corpse bride-“
you resist the very strong urge to whip around and literally just strangle the man, but you remind yourself that before you had this little interaction you were actually having a very good time
“y/n!” jungkook stands at the bottom of the staircase as you make your way down, being careful not to trip over your heels, “hi!”
“jungkook! oh, there you are- i was wondering where you were-“ you loop an arm with his as you drag him through the hoards of people and towards the bar (you really need a drink and it looks like namjoon is back on the clock)
“there you are!” he laughs lightly, reaching over to tap your hand gently, “i’ve been texting you all night trying to figure out where you were but- is your phone on do not disturb or something?“
“no, it’s not! i’m sorry, i should’ve checked my phone-“ you smile sheepishly, “i’ve been dancing with namjoon this whole time but- where are you guys sitting?”
“i don’t know, some area that jimin squared off for us and a few others- ji-eun’s been asking about you, she wanted to say hi-“
“oh! oh my god, yeah, i should probably go say hi to ji-eun-“ you gesture for namjoon to get you some water and he nods, grabbing a cup and filling it up for you, :your ken costume turned out great, by the way-“ you laugh, patting jungkook’s bare chest, “it’s, uh- it’s really giving horses and the patriarchy.”
“thank you, thank you- and your costume turned out so cool too, we should watch corpse bride again when we eventually have another movie night-“
“sure! sure, for sure.” you clear your throat quietly, a moment of awkward silence settling in between the two of you
your friendship feels so… different now
like there’s this unspoken air of something in between you and jungkook like an invisible brick wall
and maybe it’s the liquid courage currently sloshing around in your body and the leftover exhilaration from finally calling jimin out on his bullshit, but now you have the urge to talk to jungkook about the weird tension
“hey, kook, listen-“ you reach up to scratch the back of your neck, “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you but i’ve definitely been putting off for a while…”
all of a sudden, a drum roll begins to boom from the speakers, the spotlights darting around the crowd before shining towards the main stage at the front of the room, whoops and cheers bouncing off the walls as jimin waltzes his way towards the microphone, a cocky smirk on his face as he raises his hand to get people to quiet down
“oh, shit, the costume competition results!!” jungkook nudges your side as the two of you turn to face the front, “we can talk about it later, i wanna see who won what- i voted myself for best ken costume, so-“
you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and you nod, thankful for the interruption
maybe it’s a good thing you were interrupted
telling him in the middle of a party probably wasn’t the best idea, anyway
»»————- 👻 ————-««
once again, you really have to hand in to jimin
the man truly knows how to throw a party, because it seems like just about everyone is having the time of their lives — and this costume competition just made things so much more fun
there are definitely a lot of good costumes here tonight and jimin decided to change it up with twenty-five different categories to go through so he’s kind of speed running through the names
most scary costume, most realistic costume, most well-made costume: he’s got a lot of categories to get through
you keep a content smile on your face as the costume contest continues to go on, enjoying jimin’s commentary to the point that you nearly forget that the two of you hate each other and he totally just disrespected you like he’s never disrespected you before twenty minutes ago
“i wonder how that guy made it look like his head was floating… that shit was so cool.” jungkook claps his hands along with the crowd and you nod enthusiastically
“i know, right?! i’m sure he probably took it off tiktok or something - we can definitely look it up after the party and maybe we can try to recreate-“ you stop yourself mid-sentence, suddenly remembering that you guys haven’t exactly been the closest as of late so it feels weird to be offering to do something together, “um-“ you clear your throat, offering a half-hearted shrug, “yeah, we can, like, look it up later or something. maybe you and ji-eun can figure it out and let me know.”
“yeah! or- you know, you and me-“ jungkook licks over his chapped lips, “like- you know, like- old times or whatever-“
“yeah, yeah- maybe! maybe-“
“now, before i announce this special category, i have something to read because-“ jimin sucks in a breath through his teeth before cocking his head to the side, “well, let’s just say it’s some context for the best simp costume of the night.”
you can’t help but frown at the strange category — out of all the halloween costume competitions you’ve been to, “best simp” has certainly never been one that you’ve seen before
“just wanna remind everyone that this is just a costume competition, everything is based off the costume you’re wearing.” jimin adds, taking a slip of paper out of his back pocket before unfolding it with nimble fingers, “so, uh- you know. don’t take anything seriously, you know? just gotta loosen up and have fun.”
your brows dip slightly at the weird disclaimer
…
something about this doesn’t feel right.
“dear j, this is something that i’ve wanted to tell you for a while but have never had the courage to until now. throughout our entire friendship, you’ve been so kind and loyal and honest with me, and i think that you deserve the same, so this is me being honest with you.” jimin speaks into the microphone, reading the words off the slip of paper with a tone of amusement laced in his powder-soft voice, “to be honest, i’ve liked you for nearly a year now, and i’ve tried so many times to push those feelings down but it’s clear that my feelings aren’t going anywhere anytime soon…” he recites, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth as he puts the piece of paper down, “any thoughts on who the winner could be? or should i keep going?”
your eyelids flutter slightly at the weird change in mood of the lines and a strange feeling of familiarity of those words
“me at that one hot english professor.” a voice pipes out from the crowd and that gets a round of laughter
you laugh along politely, but you can’t help but feel as though something is off
something is off
something is very, very off
“i cherish you as a friend and the last thing i want to do is to make things weird, so… you don’t have to worry about my feelings, you know?”
oh my god.
you feel the blood immediately drain from your face when you finally realize why these lines are so familiar — it’s because they’re from the note you wrote for jungkook when you were going to tell him you liked him.
your brain begins to work overtime to figure out how the hell jimin got his hands on that note and why the hell he’d think it’d be okay to read it aloud to this massive group of people and what the hell he’s even doing right now
“what i’m trying to say is that i like you, j. i like you so much that i don’t know where to even put my feelings, and i’m sick of holding my feelings back and pretending that i’m fine with being just your friend.”
you know that jimin’s never really been a fan of you, but even this seems like too much of a dickhead move even for him
you pluck at the cuff of your sleeve anxiously, tracing your steps all the way back to the day you were going to tell jungkook about your feelings for him and the note that you’d accidentally given him that you were hoping was rotting away somewhere in a dump yard but clearly isn’t
jungkook said he’d given ji-eun the note to spit her gum out into
but what if she uncrumpled the paper and saw the note?
and what if jimin was there when she uncrumpled the note?
and then they read it together and ji-eun mentioned that you were reciting this aloud in the bathroom and-
your heart starts to race in your chest and you feel the hairs prickle on your arms as anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach, and you know that no one’s looking at you but you feel like everyone’s looking at you
you feel sick
you feel like you’re going to throw up and explode at the same time
“how could you like someone for a year and not tell ‘em?” jungkook snorts, nudging you with his elbow, “who do you think the poor sucker is who said that?”
“beats me.” you breathe out, feeling yourself shrink slightly when you notice jimin starting to scan the audience, clearly laser-focused on finding you, “i have to- um, i think i need some fresh air, it’s a little warm in here-“
“oh- okay-“ jungkook doesn’t get the chance to say much else before you’re turning around, pushing yourself through the crowd of people and trying your best to stay calm
just breathe
in and out
in and out
in and out in and out in and out oh my god HURRY UP MOVE MOVE MOVE-
you’re sure that no one will notice if you slink out through the back
and you can always text namjoon later and say that it was great spending time with him but you had a personal emergency and needed to leave the party earlier
and if jimin decides to expose you, at least you’ll be gone and out of this house and nowhere near any of these people and you don’t have to look at their stupid sympathetic faces and you don’t have to deal with-
“and the best simp of the night goes to our lovely corpse bride.”
you freeze when the spotlight lands on you, your heart going a hundred miles a minute as it starts to beat harder and faster in your chest
you only manage to turn your head weakly to glance over your right shoulder, catching jimin in your peripheral view before you’re slowly twisting around to face him, feet glued to the ground
“why don’t you come up here and accept your sash, corpse bride?” jimin smirks, plucking the satin sash from (a shocked looking) taehyung’s arms before raising it up in the air slightly, “congratulations on winning, you get two free drinks from the bar. one for you and one for… well, probably also you. get on up here and claim your coupons!”
you feel your face burning bright red in humiliation and you’re unable to tear your eyes away from jimin, your hands clenched into tight fists at your sides
this is a nightmare
this is actually a nightmare
this is traumatising in so many ways
the music seems to quiet down, a loud silence washing over the room as people look at you with expressions of confusion on their faces, everyone clearly a little thrown off at the weird category
eyes, there are just a million pairs of eyes on you and you feel like you can’t move or breathe or even do anything but stand still in shock
it’s only then that you notice the calculating look on jungkook’s face, his eyelids fluttering slightly before his eyes widen and his head snaps up and over to look at you
his lips part slightly as his eyes dart over the features of your face and you feel your entire body flushing in humiliation and shame, forcing your eyes away from your friend and back to the dickhead on the stage
“you are really something else, park jimin.” you manage to mutter out before turning on your heel and pushing your way through the crowd, people stepping aside to let you out
“aw, where are you going? you had a great costume, that’s all we were trying to say!” jimin laughs, actually laughs into the microphone before shrugging, tossing the sash over his shoulder before moving on, “alright, well, more drinks for me, i guess. the next category is best couple’s costume-“
“y/n- y/n, wait!” jungkook’s voice is the one thing you hear among the music and bustle of the crowd but he’s the last person you want to talk to right now so you pick up your pace upon spotting the front door
tears blur your vision as you finally burst out into the open air, your chin trembling as you try your best to keep your composure and not completely burst into tears
“oh my god, oh my fucking god-“ you whimper, sucking in large breaths of air
run, run, run, the only instinct you have is to run, and you reach down to yank both heels off before taking off into a sprint, the grass slightly damp beneath your bare feet
it feels very cliché to be running out of a mansion in a big poofy dress, but you can’t even take the moment to laugh at yourself because the only thing you can focus on is the fact that everything has changed completely and you’re forced to face reality a lot sooner than you would’ve liked
“y/n, come on!” you turn to glance over your shoulder to see jungkook hot on your trail, “you can’t just run away from a discussion you don’t want to have, we need to talk because we both know that things have been off since i started dating ji-eun and now-“
“okay, well, now you know, then!” your chest heaves as you come to a stop to catch your breath (you have no idea why you thought running would be a good idea, you get winded after thirty seconds on the treadmill), spinning around to face your friend who skids to a stop, tripping over his feet a little before standing up straight, “the secret’s out, jungkook. we finally solved the puzzle. i love you. i’ve loved you for so long that i don’t even remember when i started feeling this way, but all i know is i love you. you’re the first person i think of when i wake up and you’re the last person i think about before i fall asleep. i would literally drop everything i was doing if you needed me, and you’re the only person i want to spend my free time with.” all the words that you’ve been holding in for the last who knows how long finally spill out, your mouth running uncontrollably, “i love you so much that i helped you set up your date with ji-eun, i love you so much that i’m willing to run in the rain just to get you a teddy bear and a bouquet that’s not even going to me, jungkook, i-“ you blubber, reaching up to wipe at your eyes, “i don’t know what to do. there is no one else in the world i’d rather be with than you, jungkook, and i- to be honest, maybe it’s a good thing that jimin did what he did because you do deserve to know the truth and you do deserve to know how i really feel about you. if this didn’t happen i think i’d just keep it to myself for the rest of my life, but you deserve to know this. i love you, jungkook. i love you and i don’t know if i can keep being friends with you if you’re dating someone else because it’s actually killing me on the inside-“
“i love you, y/n,” jungkook breathes out, and you feel yourself letting out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding
relief
for the first time in a long time, you feel relieved, like a massive weight’s just been lifted off your shoulders
you feel your heart soar in your chest, and suddenly it’s like all the humiliation and shame has completely washed away, and suddenly you have the feeling to run back into the house to thank jimin for doing this because you know you wouldn’t have said anything if it weren’t for this slightly traumatising experience
“i love you, i do, but… not in that way.” his shoulders droop slightly and you feel your heart beginning to crackle like a delicate glass sculpture, each splinter creating more damage than the last, “i love you like you’re the first person i call when i get good news because i know you’ll be proud of me, or when i get bad news because i know you’ll be there to comfort me. i love you, like i envision you standing next to me at my wedding fixing my tie or calming me down when whoever i end up marrying is walking down the aisle. i love you like you’ll be fun auntie y/n who spoils my kids with shopping sprees at the mall and who allows them an extra scoop of ice cream after dinner. i love you because you make me a better person, i love you because you encourage me to be the best version of myself i can possibly be. i love you because you remind me to be smart and kind and humble and honest and i trust you to be the one to put me in my place if i ever need it but i-“
“stop.” you feel nauseated hearing all of these words coming out of his mouth, telling you that he loves you because and he loves you because but not just i love you too. “just stop, jungkook.” you know that you can’t control someone else’s feelings but you can control your own reactions, and if jungkook would’ve kept rattling on you don’t know what you would’ve said but you know you probably would’ve lashed out at him
and it’s good that you finally got your answer, right? he loves you, but not in that way — not in the way that you love him
“y/n, please-“ jungkook whispers, reaching out for you, his eyebrows scrunching together when you take a small step back, wrapping your arms around yourself, “please, i can’t lose you as a friend, you mean so much to me-“
“i need some time.” you manage to force out, the sickening feeling of humiliation and shame and embarrassment and disappointment and frustration and anger swirling around in your stomach, “i just need some time.”
“how much time?”
“you should probably go back to the party.” you clear your throat quietly, offering your friend a weak smile, “i heard you and ji-eun were up for best couple’s costume. not saying that jimin rigged the system or anything, but-“
“y/n, how much time?” jungkook’s looking at you with sad puppy-dog eyes, and though it breaks your heart to see him like that, you need to put yourself first for once
every instinct inside of you screams to console jungkook, to reassure him and let him now that you’ll still be around but you just need some space from him and the whole situation
your eyes begin to water again as you press your lips together, shaking your head quietly, “i’m gonna go see if i can catch the bus home.”
»»————- 👻 ————-««
(- “the FUCK is wrong with you, huh?!” jungkook barks, slamming jimin up against the wall before grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt, “you sadistic fuck, who in their right mind would ever fucking do that to another human being?!”
“i’m the sadistic one?” jimin laughs, reaching up to wrap his fingers around jungkook’s wrists, “are you fucking serious? you’re the one whose been dangling yourself in front of y/n like a damn carrot to a starved rabbit-“
“what are you talking about?”
“you can’t stand here and honestly say that you didn’t have an inkling that y/n liked you more than a friend. i’ve seen the way you talk to her, i’ve seen the way you look at her, i’ve seen the way you are around her- you think i’m the evil one? at least i don’t take advantage of my friends who are CLEARLY head over heels in love with me and would obviously do anything i wanted them to do and ask them to help me set up a date that i’m taking someone else out on-“
“get a fucking life and mind your own damn business for once, you motherf-“)
🎙️ console y/n or call out jimin because what the hell was that?! (talk to my characters!)
📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)
💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)
🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)
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[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical traits, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]
And a week after that terrible storm, Megumi pulls on his coat, locks up the clinic for the night, and heads to the nearby izakaya.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know her.”
Megumi deflates a little, leaning forward onto his elbows atop the service counter at the izakaya. The young man behind the bar looks sincerely apologetic that he can’t be of more help to him, a remorseful frown tugging at the corner of his lips.
“That’s fine,” Megumi says, smothering his burgeoning disappointment as best he can—blanketing it in a familiar air of indifference. “It was years ago.”
He’d asked for you when he arrived at the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, having weaselled your family name out of Yuuji who’d in turn pressed Nanami for it—the elder man deeming a simple name suitably fair to share since it wasn’t particularly personal information, not least of all because he’s seemingly incapable of denying Yuuji anything he asks for. But the server who Megumi approached when he first arrived at the neighbourhood izakaya, the same establishment he’d visited with the old man all those years ago that hasn’t changed a bit since that day, didn’t seem to have any knowledge of you ever working there.
“I’ve only been here for a year,” the young man says, ruffling the back of his cropped hair sheepishly and glancing down the bar in the direction of the busy kitchen. “I could ask around, though? See if someone—”
“No, that’s alright,” Megumi cuts him off, bowing stiffly in his direction with his arms pinned down at his sides. “You’ve done more than enough. Thank you for your time.”
Megumi swiftly turns and heads in the direction of the door, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The izakaya is noisy around him as he crosses the restaurant towards the exit, full of people unwinding after a long day of work, sharing food and drinks and talking too loudly just to be heard over the cacophonous din. He’s never really liked the overly-boisterous atmosphere of these kinds of places, which is why he’s always preferred to drink at home—but every so often Yuuji or Nobara manages to draw him into an evening out at bars just like this one.
The man just wants to get back to his little apartment where he can enjoy some peace and quiet, and nurse the nagging feeling of disappointment he feels prickling in his hollow chest.
He’s only a few doors up the road from the building, making his way back in the direction of home, when he hears a ruckus behind him.
“Excuse me!… Excuse me, sir!”
Megumi pauses in his stride and glances back over his shoulder in the direction of the shouting, only to see the young man from behind the bar racing up the sidewalk towards him with his apron strings flapping in his haste. He’s a little winded by the time he reaches Megumi, hunching forward with his hands braced on his thighs atop the overhang of his apron as he struggles to catch his breath.
“The cook… said…”
Megumi can barely understand what the boy is trying to say to him. He’s a little concerned by how out of breath he is, too. After a few more seconds of panting heavily, the young man looks up.
“The cook said he knew her. The girl you’re looking for.”
Megumi’s eyes widen, his stomach doing an unpleasant little somersault in his core.
The server stands up straight, swallowing thickly. He’s more composed now after his sprint. He gives Megumi your name, your full name—both given and family—and Megumi recognizes it. “He said a student with that name worked here a few years ago, but she left when she got pregnant.”
Megumi’s hands clench into fists in the pockets of his coat.
The young man looks a bit sheepish. “I hope this helps. I don’t know if you remember, but you took good care of my family’s dog a few years ago at your clinic. I… wanted to repay you.” He bows earnestly in the vets direction, a full bend at his waist.
Megumi thinks he might vaguely remember him, though his hair was longer, he didn’t have the piercings in his ears, and his cheeks were rounder with baby fat back then. “Shino-kun?”
The boy lifts his head and nods eagerly, perking up at the recognition.
His family had an inordinately rotund dachshund named Vienna. Like the sausage.
“Thank you for your help,” Megumi says to him, and he means it.
Shino nods in recognition of the thanks.
Megumi moves to leave, but pauses. “The cook… does he have her contact info?”
The boy shakes his head, and Megumi feels that same flare of disappointment swell with renewed vigour, staring down at his feet on the pavement as he tries not to let it show. He supposes it would be strange to get that kind of information from him anyway. For all intents and purposes, he’s just some stranger trying to track a woman down, who in their right mind would—
“He said the last he heard she was working at the family restaurant a few blocks away, near the park—”
Megumi’s eyes snap up towards the server again.
“—do you know the one?”
Yes. He does.
The old man used to take him there sometimes for lunch when he was still working at the clinic, because Megumi had a tendency to skip his midday meal. The waitresses all knew the old man by name, and he’d told Megumi that he and his wife had their first date in that very restaurant decades prior. It’s an ancient little spot that’s been there for far longer than Megumi’s lived in the neighbourhood.
And he just so happens to have to pass it on his way back home.
The neon sign that hangs over the old family restaurant paints the evening street in its glow as Megumi stands outside the diner.
It’s late; encroaching on an hour that Nobara would affectionately call ‘past his bedtime’ since Megumi tends as a matter of habit to be a man who’s early to bed and early to rise. But regardless of the hour, Megumi can’t seem to make his feet carry him any further. Neither back to his home, nor through the business’s door.
Through one of the windows, past the reflective fluorescence from the lights outside, he sees you.
You’re standing at a table by the window, chatting with a couple whose meal you’ve just served. You have a smile on your face, but it’s not quite the smile that Megumi remembers—neither as bright, nor as carefree as the one in his memory. You don’t look the same either.
You’re older than you were back then—though certainly still not old by any means—but he supposes that’s only natural given how much time has passed since that first night he met you. He didn’t look at you properly that night you came to the clinic. Didn’t take the time to really observe you. All he can really remember is how soaking wet you were, and how you didn’t want to meet his gaze.
You meet it now.
You catch sight of him through the window just before you leave your patrons to enjoy their meal, and even from a distance Megumi can see the way your expression changes. He can see how startled you look as you catch sight of him.
You’re not wrong to look surprised, and he can’t help but blame you. He’s some man you’ve met twice now, the instances half a decade apart, who’s managed to track down your place of employment. But at the same time, Megumi can’t help but think that there’s a greater anxiety that underlies your wide-eyed expression—a more considerable fear that’s palpable, even from so far away.
You appear outside, wrapped up in a puffy jacket, a few minutes later.
“Hello, Fushiguro-san,” you greet him quietly, bowing a bit awkwardly in his direction.
He returns the greeting with your own name, and you look surprised that he knows it.
“What brings you here at this time of night?”
“Where’s Kota?” Megumi ignores your question in favour of one of his own.
Your lips pull into a thin line at the mention of your son.
“The obaachan who lives next door to us watches Kota when I work nights,” you say, and your tone is colder now. Sharpened like a blade you wield in defence.
An unpleasant silence wraps around you both, the discomfort and the tension of it nipping at your heels and urging you to run.
“That’s a lot of work for an old woman.”
“She’s happy to do it. Her children have all moved away,” you seem to only very narrowly be keeping resentment from your shaking voice.
“Why doesn’t Kota’s father watch him?” Megumi asks, and his gaze is level and unyielding as it meets your own.
Your jaw sets, and a flare of something white-hot and protective kindles behind your eyes.
“He can’t.”
A car passes on the street behind Megumi, but neither of you pay it any mind.
“Why?"
“He’s busy.”
“Too busy to take care of his own child?” Megumi isn’t trying to sound so angry, but the emotion makes itself known in his voice without even trying. He doesn’t mean to antagonize you like this. It’s not what he came here to do. But he can’t seem to force himself to be direct with you.
“Yes.”
“Doing what?” Megumi presses again, unrelenting in his pursuit.
“Drop it,” you tell him warningly, hissing the caution through your teeth.
He doesn’t heed your words.
“Where is Kota’s father?” he asks one final time, and it’s the question that makes the fraying thread of your patience finally snap.
“Bothering me outside my place of work,” you hiss, your eyes narrowed and resentful. “Is that what you came here for? Are you happy now?”
Happy?
Megumi feels sick to his stomach, an almighty fwoosh wracking through him that makes him go week at the knees and threatens to make him heave up the meagre contents of his stomach in front of you, and this street, and anyone who has the misfortune of a window seat in the diner behind you. But he feels worse still when he sees the way tears are welling quickly in your eyes. When he spots the way you’re trembling.
You’re frightened.
Of him.
“Please,” you soften noticeably before his eyes, like he watches all your will to fight with him abandon you in real time. The deflation leaves you desperate when you speak again, crumpling in on yourself. You step up to him slightly, grabbing the sleeve of his coat as you plead to him. “Just go. Forget this ever happened. I don’t want anything from you. We don’t want anything from you. I-I take good care of him; he’s happy and healthy and we’re fine. I’m sorry that you found out like this, but I promise if you just leave now you don’t ever have to think of him—things can go back to how they were, and I’ll make sure we never cross paths again.”
Megumi tastes bile creeping up at the back of his too-tight throat, and his vision has gone fuzzy at the edges like he’s watching everything unfold through a tunnel.
All he can think about it the little boy with the bunny hidden under his raincoat. The racoon on his sweatshirt. The way he clung to him in his sleep.
“He’s my son?”
You pause, still holding tight to Megumi’s coat sleeve.
“Yes,” you reply quietly. “He is.”
He searches your face for any sign of duplicity, but he knows the truth. He knew it before you said it. Knew it from the moment he woke up in that cold sweat.
“You’re certain?”
He doesn’t pose the question with any ill-intent. Hardly conscious of the fact he’s asking it at all, or what the implications of such a question might be.
You flinch anyway.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
It’s quiet for a moment. Another car passes.
“He’s my son.” This time it’s not a question, but the words are brittle and breathless as Megumi speaks them. His chest aches, his head is pounding.
You’re still clutching his sleeve.
From behind you, at the corner of the building that leads to a narrow alley, a man in a stained apron with a cigarette in his hand calls your name. You whirl around in surprise.
“Break’s over!” he calls to you with a hand clasped around his mouth. He eyes you and Megumi warily, as though assessing whether or not he needs to intervene.
“Coming!” you call back to him with a blatantly forced chipper tone, waving at him with a strained smile on your face.
You turn back to Megumi, and let his sleeve slip from your grasp. The fake smile withers slowly until it disappears altogether.
“Please,” you repeat to him one last time, quieter now that the line cook is still lingering nearby, but no less desperate. “Just forget about this. About us.”
You turn to head back towards the restaurant, and Megumi lets you go.
Until he doesn’t.
“Wait.”
You freeze, but you don’t turn to face him again. He can see the way you hold yourself around your midsection, your shoulders slightly hunched forward like you’re bracing yourself for something.
“Come to the clinic tomorrow.”
“I work tomorrow.”
“Then come before you work. Or after,” Megumi can’t help but sound irritated at your refusal. He has a right to ask you more questions. To get more answers.
You glance at him over your shoulder, and you look wary.
“Kota goes to daycare at 8. It’s not far,” you say, though your tone is reluctant. “I can come just after that.”
The clinic doesn’t open until 9, so that works for him.
He nods curtly in agreement, and then you do the same.
The cook calls your name again.
You step towards the restaurant.
“The bunny’s doing well.”
You pause in your stride and turn back to Megumi with a look of surprise on your face—the most open, and least defensive expression he’s seen since the two of you began speaking.
Megumi struggles to meet your gaze now, and looks away briefly. He stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“You can… tell Kota that. If you want.” He glances fleetingly towards you, just in time to see the ghost of a smile flicker at he corner of your lips.
“I will,” you reply quietly. “He’ll be happy to hear that. Thank you, Fushiguro-san.”
Megumi watches as you skitter back towards the restaurant, bowing apologetically to the cook as you head quickly down the alley towards what Megumi can only assume is the staff entrance.
He turns on his heel on the sidewalk and heads in the direction of home, ignoring the gaze of your colleague as he walks away.
A son.
He has a son.
A little boy who looks just like him.
A little boy named Kota.
Megumi still feels sick, and his head is spiralling with a hundred questions he can’t begin to understand how to parse through in a coherent way. A hundred things he never dreamed he’d need to know. Never wanted to.
But he’ll see you tomorrow at 8AM, so as long as he makes sense of at least a few of the unintelligible questions running through his mind by then, he’ll finally have the chance to get some answers.
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