#my mind only functions until a certain point in the am before it starts to melt
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Tumblr Plays Pokemon?
I have a sudden urge to play more pokemon.
Why?
Probably because I love pokemon. And also because I'm returning to some big time Faves. I'm rereading and rewatching One Piece, I've returned to writing a Voltron fanfic I started 3 years ago, and I am (once again) relistening to Discworld (I'm trying to pick something new up okay! But its hard, so very hard, to top Pratchett.)
With that in mind though I wanted to make this playthrough more interesting.
And so I want to try playing pokemon in a new way by exploiting Tumblrs polling system. Essentially I am going to leave it up to YOU to decide things like what starter I use and what pokemon I catch in each route/area. I'll do this by making a series of polls up to the point in which I have to fight a gym leader, rival battle, etc.
I'll have some control over this given I'll be making the poll, and obviously the results will rarely be unanimous given the nature of how the polls themselves function. After all there is a limit of 8 options per poll, so in later games when there are multiple pokemon available on each route, multiple polls may need to be created to narrow down a choice.
And this isn't including the fact that you all may vote for me to abstain from capturing any pokemon on a certain route until later. Some routes in some pokemon games, after all, can hide deceptively good pokemon that you can only obtain by returning there after obtaining an essential HM.
So thats it right? Tumblr gets to decide what pokemon I can catch and who will be on my team?
Oh but tumblr. Dear sweet Tumblr. My wonderful followers.
I want to make it more interesting than that.
You see the thing I looove about pokemon are the stories you can tell. All the different team compositions, all the little characters your pokemon can become as you play, and all the little ways you can make the game potentially more difficult, yet oh so very interesting at the same time.
With that in mind I propose a set of... RULES.
I can only catch a single pokemon from every route (otherwise the polling is just pointless)
I can only catch a single member of every evolutionary family (no armies of eeveelutions, Sorry gang, I like them but thats been done to death.) So no owning multiple members of the same evolutionary family.
I can only attempt to catch a pokemon ONCE and if I fail I can never catch a member of that species again. Fail to catch Pidgey on route 1? Well too bad, looks like I dont get Pidgey, Pidgeotto, or Pidgeot for the WHOLE GAME. (This is to make the catches more memorable/meaningful and consequential.)
I can only have a single pokemon from every type. This makes every team member essential and meaningful and consequential. No bulking myself up with a team of only psychic types.
The team can have no repeat natures. Our team needs varied personalities after all! Personalities that are too similar will clash and mess with team synergy!
If we have to have a dedicated team member for HMs, then they're going to be a full member of the team and count towards the typing AND nature rules. No mules or slaves on this team. If we have a Bibarel for the HMs then they're GONNA be a member of the team.
All these rules are rather restrictive, BUT they will make the polls you guys vote in more consequential!
Do you vote to skip a route to try and get a better pokemon later? Do you vote for a weaker earlier route pokemon for early type advantage while passing up on bigger powerhouses down the line? Do you sacrifice having dedicated type coverage in favor of having a reliable HM user to access more areas, items, tms, etc? Do you vote for a pokemon with a lower easily achievable catch rate, or risk your vote on a higher stronger catch?
Do you vote for the popular pokemon you know everyone will vote for? Orrr do you decide to make the voting, and subsequent results, more interesting by voting for an underdog?
I'm certainly interested in finding out.
But before that, a decision needs to be made.
((I still have an active save for ScarVio and I'm still iffy on how to adjust certain rules for its open world setting which is also why I'm leaving SwSh out for now. If this turns out successful, we could maybe hash out how to apply the ruleset to those games down the line but for now I'm just putting in the limitations for my own convenience XD))
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I just (almost) read the entirety of Happs and I see why people would consider it transphobic.
It just reeks of a trans story written by a transphobe.
Now, keep in mind that I am not a trans person myself. However, I noticed certain things you'll often find in transphobic stories.
And expect me to ramble. A lot.
Also, keep in mind that this is my interpretation of this story. This is what I got out of it.
Trigger warning because I will be talking about transphobia and suicide will be mentioned.
One of the first things I noticed is that it focuses a lot more on how it affects the people around the character as opposed to the character itself.
I'm guessing this is to guilt people who are trans or at the very least questioning their gender into not exploring their identity because the people around them might not accept it.
But to me, nothing is more selfish than expecting someone to fit the idea of them you have in your head. If anything, keeping these people around more often than not causes harm because while there may be genuine concern, they also tend to care a lot more about their own feelings and how it affects them as apposed to how you feel and how it affects you.
Hell, this isn't even an experience unique to trans or queer people. Even cishet folks have gone through the experience of finding themselves only for the people around them to not accept it and try to make them feel bad for changing.
In this story, Billy gets made fun of (though he doesn't care), his father leaves him because he can't have a normal son, and it takes a toll on his mother physically, emotionally and mentally until she ends her own life when he comes of age. There's probably more examples I didn’t list.
Another thing these kinds of stories tend to use is having said character transition into something inhuman, very like insinuating that if we this is what will happen when we become more accepting of people who simply want to change their gender identity. And that's bad because... *checks notes* it's weird.
Look, while I wouldn't call myself a radqueer, I tend not to give a shit about a person's identity a lot of the time.
Anyways, a very blatant example of this in media is in South Park. In the same episode where Mr. Garrison transitions into a woman, we get Kyle transitioning into a tall black boy in order to play basketball, and eventually, his dad transitions into into a dolphin because he always wanted to be a dolphin.
Of course, this doesn't work out for any of them because they're not really what they transitioned into. But Mr. Garrison keeps identifying as a woman for a while because they used his balls to make Kyle's kneecaps, and they exploded after he makes a slamdunk (or at the very least jumps).
While B-7 isn't as blatant as that South Park episode, I couldn't help but notice it as I read further and further. Especially when they start insinuating that he is mentally ill and needs to be sent to a ward.
The final point I will bring up which probably does ties into the last one has to do with trans surgeries.
As someone who used to be an anti-sjw, I know firsthand how transphobes try to make trans surgeries out to be horrible when it's really no different from any other surgery when you really think about it. Well, maybe aside from regulations, but that's due to a society that's still not accepting of trans people as opposed to the problem with the surgeries themselves.
They will go on about how irreversible it is and how it may lead to complications. But like I said before, this isn't unique to trans surgeries.
For example, choosing to donate your kidney is irreversible, and there will be complications, especially with the kidney you have left having to work overtime.
Hell, even the person you gave your kidney to is gonna deal with stuff because your kidney will still function like your kidney even if their body accepts it.
But anyway, Billy eventually decides to have his limbs cut off and replaced with prosthetics to be more like an animatronic. While he is questioned about this decision, he does ultimately get what he wants.
If only it was that easy for trans people irl... But from what I gather from trans people who have gone under the knife, they have fight tooth and nail to medically transition. Not to mention, the lack of regulations makes them more likely to run into complications.
The last thing I wanna go over is how Billy feels more like he wants to be a robot than an animatronic?
This has nothing to do with anything else. I just wanna ramble
Sure, animatronics are still a type of robot. But they tend to be used for entertainment purposes like portraying characters in film, games, and attractions.
The animatronics in FNaF do fit this definition. Regardless of whatever funky shit they have going on, they are still built as characters made to entertain people.
So, if they really wanted to sell us that Billy wanted to be an animatronic, it would make more sense for him to want to find a way to entertain people.
I feel like the plot point with him forgetting how to feel also doesn't make sense?
Because especially with this being tied to Security Breach, we know that the animatronics are fully sentient beings. But even if they weren't, they're still programmed to act like them.
I think it'd make a lot more sense for Billy to slowly turn into his Freddy Fazbear OC and start acting more and more like a fictional character.
Which reeks of one of the writers clearly not being familiar enough with FNaF but I guess this could also be another piece of transphobia since an argument transphobes like to use is that trans people will never truly understand what its like to be the gender they want to be.
I've wasted enough energy on this, so I'll end it here. Thanks for listening to my ramble if you even bothered. As you could probably tell, this is my least favorite story in any fnaf book.
#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#security breach#tales from the pizzaplex#b-7#long post#tw transphobes#tw sui implied
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Hey! Can you share your thoughts on Suga as an artist and a performer? This ask is inspired by all those gifs btw.
hi!! i have NOT forgotten about this ask, i promise. i was meant to answer this, like, a week ago, and then i got off track because my sister sent me a tweet and what can i say, i have the attention span and object permanence of a very small dog. sometimes. it HAPPENS. but i have not forgotten and that is why i am going to finally answer this.
under the cut because this is extremely long.
so, the thing is, it's been forever really since i've watched any bts live performances, they have just become so grating to me that i could simply NOT bear it, like. i have to love myself a little too, and i cannot deal with the rapid decline of their already subpar vocal standard, and the blatant disregard of the rap line's actual function. which is, you know. to rap. but all of this aside, i did sit down to relive the glory days of monster performances and, especially, rap line and yoongi solo performances.
which is why we will start this thing with my thoughts on yoongi as a performer. i even got out my hard drive with the bts concerts for this, which i haven't looked at in ages EITHER. *blows off the dust*
my favorite live performances he's done are: trivia: seesaw, outro: tear, cypher pt. 4, intro: never mind, boy with luv, and mic drop. i think? in that order. it's really been forever. honorable mention to interlude: shadow and black swan. black swan yoongi is something else and he shines in that song for reasons i will be getting into further down. it's kind of like the thesis of yoongi as a performer. but more to that later.
yoongi as a performer is very. hm. how do we get into this? this could (a/n: and will be!) be an endlessly long post. so, the main takeaway that i get whenever i watch yoongi is that he isn't a natural on stage. i think, whatever he does up there is hardly-fought-for and hardly-earned. yoongi is the kind of idol type that should not be an idol. that could not be suited less to be on an idol stage but he bodies it, because the yoongi who decided to become an idol is a product of his time and circumstance. the yoongi who became an idol is the kind of guy we saw in the late aughts and early 10s. the yoongi who is an idol can be traced back to a certain idol type that was super popular in the first and second generation of kpop, that only made it possible for a guy like yoongi to debut in the first place. you can draw a direct line from g-dragon, beast's junhyung, b.a.p's yongguk, block b's zico, and 2pm's taecyeon, to yoongi.
i have mentioned it before but pretty much everything bighit did with yoongi up until, like, 2016 (and especially during you never walk alone and the most beautiful moment in life) is quintessentially modeled after beast's junhyung. for good reason and unsurprisingly; beast was pretty much the biggest kpop group that existed at one point. yoongi and junhyung are the same type, visually and artistically, down to their similar vocal types. it's so obvious when you know what you're looking for. i had that epiphany when i was watching beast's 12:30 and good luck mv's.
anyways. yoongi is an introvert, above all, and you can tell when he performs. he will never know the sort of ease that hoseok possesses on stage, for example. when yoongi performs, he does not project his energy outwards. he is not a charisma bomb like hoseok or jimin, but he has a certain draw that makes you want to know more, look closer, keep your eyes on him at all times. he has a very commanding stage presence and especially up until 2018, there was a lot of anger and fury beating beneath yoongi's live performances. he mellowed out significantly for songs like boy with luv or dna, but if you watch him perform tear or seesaw or idol, you notice there is a certain sort of desperation that clings to him. that certain desperation wrote interlude: shadow, by the way. and i think he never let go of that feeling until he released that song (and black swan). everything had to be so immediate for yoongi when he performed. the energy he did project had no goal and was not aimed at anyone or anything; it just burst out of him. it's the kind of thing that drove him from the underground rap scene to the stage of wembley stadium.
that makes yoongi not the most likable performer in the world because he does not perform for anyone. when he is on stage, it is not for the crowd, it is for himself. i feel like yoongi spent the majority of his life as an idol proving something to the world at large, and to himself. to that kid that never thought he would make it there, but had all the swagger and arrogance to do whatever it took. (which is how we got idol yoongi)
something, something, this is why it all went down the drain after dynamite.
he shines in rap songs, unsurprisingly. yoongi is a passable, capable dancer, an okay singer if in his own range, but a very, very talented rapper. and his affinity for double time raps is driven by the desperation and fury i mentioned, i think, all the words he had to say had to get out somehow, no matter at what cost, and sometimes that meant squeezing them between the beats, the metronome. he is not just a 'fast talker'. in my opinion, that does a great disservice to his skillset. he is pretty good at what he does, actually. he is the most skilled rapper in bts, and bts has the second best rapline in the industry.
he is prone to arrogance, i know i already said that, and that makes him come across as plain unlikable very easily and has made him fuck up more than once. as a performer and as a human. it is not his best trait, but it works in his favor on songs like cypher pt. 4, idol, and blood, sweat and tears. it offers his rap an edge that neither hoseok nor namjoon can sell as well as he does. this is the classic idol rapper blueprint that has gone lost among the sauce of most 3rd and almost all 4th gen. we do not have performers like this anymore, because an idol has to be likable, needs to sell you a product, needs to be your potential love interest, etcetera.
yoongi as a performer: introverted, skillful, arrogant, commanding, sharp, desperate, furious, melancholic, occasionally gentle and sweet.
now, yoongi as an artist. well, that's a different beast, but not entirely. yoongi as an artist is in a way just another side of yoongi as a performer, but someone who allows us to delve deeper into who he is and what he wants to be. what he wants the public to perceive him as. which is paradox because yoongi as a songwriter and producer affords him to dig deep and say things that yoongi the idol, the performer, would never allow to be seen or heard. it's like a song allows him to confess things. and whatever is the result, well, it will be judged but not in real time. not directly out of his mouth. this is how we got the last, seesaw, his tear verse, and black swan. like, it is crazy to me that song he hasn't even written is so accurately a reflection of who he is as an artist. (the connection is dionysus -> black swan -> suga's interlude and sprinkled among that are first love, interlude: shadow and intro: never mind)
"born as an idol, reborn as an artist" led to "oh, that would be my first death i been always so afraid of," and ended at "honestly, it’s different from the future I hoped for, but that doesn’t matter, now it’s the matter of survival — however it is."
yoongi is cocky as a performer and he had no qualms of threading those parts of himself into his work, but i think what would truly kill him, and is partly why this recent development of bts is so hysterical to me, is if he would have to let go of the part of him that creates art. if yoongi would never be allowed to touch a pen or a piano, i think that would kill him. he lives and dies for this shit, and it makes up a lot of who he is as a person, too. it is no surprise that suga's interlude and black swan were released at pretty much the same time.
yoongi constantly lives with the success he has achieved and the dreams he has realized, and the dread that comes from how all of this has happened and none of it has turned out the way he had hoped for. a lot of his work is trying to come to terms with this super stardom and who exists beneath. and what happens when those dreams turn to nightmares. and how in the end, it doesn't matter, because he does it for the art. how much it pains him that he loves the success. what loving that success has done to him. the rot it infests you with, that you cannot help but crave. that kind of paralyzing fear it breathes into you.
on another note, the only reason why the most beautiful moment in life worked so well is because it was built around yoongi in so many ways. that entire narrative rises and fallswith him. he just, kind of, internalized and owned that. like, he is that manic pixie dream boy. if you are dead at the end of the story, you are dead at the beginning of it. it's so crazy! if i think about it for longer, i really do go crazy. yoongi's desperation, fury, tenderness. it all lives in that narrative. man.
i feel like i am just rambling at this point but yoongi as an artist is a safe space, a place for him to unburden himself, to do what he loves the most with no restraints, to practically stage an exorcism of a cripplingly introverted performer. yoongi as an artist allows him to speak his innermost thoughts. he is meticulous, sensitive, attentive. he has a great ear, a vision for what he wants to make, and a very definite style depending on the genre he produces for. his style reminds me a lot of the songs junhyung produced for beast (not a coincidence). so, here we are once again! full circle.
anyways. i guess that's it! i hope that answer was even just a little satisfying and i feel like i didn't even say half of what i wanted to, but this is so long already. thank you and have a good day!
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Tumblr drama ahead...
Thought I could get through this year unscathed without encountering one troll. But NOOOOO! -there must be some clause that stipulates somewhere that every account has to get honked off by something crawling out from out of the woodwork.
The rundown: I make a post of a well-known erotic artist (known across -and over-three different platforms), and make clear in the text description who the artist is. I assume the artist is well-known enough (and that the majority of users are not feebs incapable of looking the artist up for themselves). I did my research before posting-there was a similar post by the artist put up years ago (when "nipple-exposed" was BAD), but the one I had was the restored, uncensored original one (probably as the artist intended) yet to be posted in it's entirety.
The post gets traction....lots of it....the kind that makes me go "oh boy, it's already starting to draw too much attention from some of the more flippy, empty sus accounts here"----sort of like realizing you put too much of a higher wattage bulb in on your porchlight, and now it starts to attract every insect from the tri-state area. I'm sure just a visit to my blog will give the stats on what the exact post is.
Then this random account (that does not follow me, but to their benefit, appears to be "progressive"-not that they touch certain political topics, though they seem overly-argumentative about certain hot button cultural topics-and yes, they've been around a while) happens upon the post and chides me in the comment section (not in reblog fashion, mind you, but just the comment section) for not hashtagging the artist (though noone else seems to have problem finding the artist-I was able to see the post come up by basic search alone)- as if I never intended to make mention of the artist at all, which is obviously not the case. They include an "@" URL in their comment, which turns out to not even be an actual functioning URL to the artist's blog, which already clues me in that they are not the artist, nor are they affiliated with them in any manner.
I notice there are many other accounts on Tumblr who post the popular artist by text mention and do not hashtag, as well, yet, their posting is not as popular....so, why are they not under the same scrutiny as I am here?
I politely mention in a replying comment that if it's a matter of accreditation, I did mention the well-known artist in the text. It must've done the job, seeing by all the users flocking to it. I also mention there are better URLs (then the one they provided) to at least two of the functioning blogs by said artist. To be fair, I go back, and edit my post to add hashtags using the artist's name, if it makes that much more of a difference for the better. Everybody's happy. Right?
Well, the account then replies by taking the obtuse and exaggerated trademark tactic (used by so many Reddit trolls) and wrangles and angles things into this weird mocking of me as being some narcissist who feels they are the only designated conduit of promoting the artist's work....which is not what any single account here on Tumblr ever thinks when posting work from a well-known and aptly accredited the artist.
Keep in mind, no other accounts posting this artist's work (without any hashtags or a vast cluttering array of links going to what could add up to five different outside platforms) is getting this kind of criticism as I am getting here.
I have one of those "doing the dishes" revelations, I pull back, and calmly ask "how did they find the post in question". Up until this point, they never addressed why they posted a faux-URL from the getgo, as I pointed out, and now they are avoiding telling me how they found the post (because, seriously, what IS this really all about?). The next comment is another attempt to mock me of being narcissistic (again) over a post I supposedly "STOLE!".
Whoa whoa whoa Whooa! Theft!? You are going to accuse me of theft? That is a serious accusation. I never claimed this work as my own. This is not a repost of anything found here; I did my research before posting it. I gave accreditation of the artist in the description.
Anyone who has known me on this blog has known that-in the past-I have called out those that have reposted another user's work without giving accreditation to the artist-whether it be @nicholasklaw (who clearly left for IG), @n-lite , or @wax-pack-glam (seems a lot of A-holes on NewtTumbl ripped off his work and were posting it with out giving props on Reddit-and you can go there and see for yourself the kind of sh!t they are pulling by punishing someone for being creative). If I ever failed to give credit to an artist, I ask anyone to show me my mistake, and I will correct it. If I posted something an artist did not want posted here, I ask that that certain artist in particular to approach me diplomatically, so the matter can be handled in a civil fashion....and I also ask the artist to be fair and track down the other three (or so) sources out there online that have the same image (be it Imagefap, Deviantart, Reddit, etc.) and request the same treatment if they feel they are being misrepresented.
Which all boils down to....what IS this even about?
It''s kind of obvi actually. What we have here is some troll account with a "progressive-light" hat on (the kind that finds it easier to sow divisions and make microaggressions online about gender or anything else, then to actually address real critical outside issues about fascists trying to kill LGBT activists in some countries, promoting BS obstructive Freedom Convoys, invading other countries, or perpetuating conversion therapy in some states-y'know, the kind of incisive topics that most of us had no problem addressing here on Tumblr), who was drawn to this post by an algorithm, and is finding every ungodly means to get a foothold to be a contentious knob about it. It's a shame to think that some of the most persevering accounts on a platform like Reddit are these multi-trophy 8-year+ trolls that are embedded like a case of herpes. It was bad back when every single dang posting on Reddit had some obligatory sh!tposter on there to spew some dumb trash, but as for me.....here on Tumblr....I guess it takes me posting something so popular it attracts someone (with an obvious axe to grind with me for some reason-God only knows) being ugly enough to make the unjustified accusation of theft.
Seems to happen every year. Someone flips out that I-for posterity sake-linked an article about White Supremacists in Germany as an example of how they are covering such topics here, because, I guess they have a flipped-out hatred about American reporting, even as an example of what they were griping about. Another (avatarless) account accuses me of mislabeling a popular gif about Cecilia Lion-and though two other sites positively ID it as her, this account is unable to tell me who they think it really is. Once, I gave a supportive comment about someone else's gripes about empty accounts on Tumblr, and they flip out and demand to know how "I found their post" (uh-it came up by a basic search on the site), and before I can respond, they accuse me of "bad vibes", block me, and then spy on my with alt-accounts accusing me of being a porn/politics blog (just what about my politics upsets them?...Hmmmmm?) with "bad vibes" even (oddly enough, said account loved posting 4Chan stuff....and I'm the "bad vibes?!...OkaaaaAAY). The last example is exactly why I don't take the bait to complain along with these newbie accounts griping about "twue Cwime" (deliberately sic) posters flooding in and choking off the site with their ugly satirical sh!tposting love for school mass murderers....they are obviously colluding with the exact accounts they claim to hate because they want feedback on how toxic they've made a platform and also who they can keep tabs on to harass.
Right now, I just don't need this. I ate something with caffeine that caused a reaction in me, jacked up my blood pressure, and I had to call into work.
Again, if anyone has a problem with how I accredit an artist on a platform that is all about sharing and exposure of an artist's work (especially if I have done it in ANY different fashion than the way any body else here has been doing it here for-God only knows-over a decade now), approach me civilly and to the point. Do not dally around with jacking me on nitpicky protocol (which I was accommodating about, in regards to everyone's beloved hashtags), then look for any axe-grinding way to find an obtuse angle to chide me, and then go for the jugular with false accusation of theft.
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Writing a Muslim Character
The Mods of the Magnus Writers discord server and community are putting together a variety of resources for Magnus Archives fan creators; these have been collated from articles on the topics, our own experiences, and the experiences of the members of the Magnus Writers discord. These are definitely not comprehensive or the only viewpoints out there, and are by no means meant as a way to police fanworks, but as a way to support and inspire fan creators in creating thoughtful and diverse works. Please note that external links will be added in a reblog to outsmart tumblr’s terrible tagging system, so make sure to check those out as well!
This resource in particular was put together by Mod Jasmine: hi, all!
While there are no canonically Muslim characters in TMA, Muslim headcanons are common in fanworks—particularly for Basira, and sometimes Jon (which I love to see!). I have cobbled together this post from my own experiences to help support and inform fans in these areas, and as part of my diabolical plan to get more Muslim!Basira and Muslim!Jon fics to shove into my brain.
First, two gigantic caveats:
I was raised Sunni Muslim in Egypt, which is a majority Sunni Muslim country, and still live there. This means my experience will be very different from someone raised in a majority Christian country like the UK, and different again if they are not Sunni and not Arab.
I am currently ex-Muslim. This does not mean I bear any ill will towards Islam or Muslims, just that it wasn’t for me, and I felt it was important to be upfront about that. I’ll be linking to resources by practicing Muslims in the reblog to this post, whether to add to my opinions and experiences or provide you with a different opinion. I am not here to put my voice over that of Muslims, just to do some of the work so they don’t have to. Obviously, if any Muslims have any additions or suggestions for this post, I’m happy to accommodate them.
Alright. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get started with the basics of writing a Muslim character.
(Warning: this is absurdly, absurdly long)
Basics:
Muslims follow two main sources of religious instruction: Quran and Hadith.
The Quran is the holy book, considered to be dictated by the angel Gabriel to the Prophet Mohammed, who then relayed what he was told to his followers. It is composed of surahs, or chapters, which have individual ayat, or verses. There are no varying versions of the Quran, later additions, or anything considered lost in translation. Any Arabic Quran is considered to be the same text that the Prophet Mohammed relayed, unchanged. As a result, while Muslims can debate interpretations of the Quran (although that’s often still left to the scholars), none debate the actual words of the text.
Hadith, meanwhile, are the sayings or teachings of the Prophet Mohammed. Their validity can be disputed, as they were written by his followers after his death, and mainly depend on having several witnesses for a specific saying or situation. The more witnesses there were, the more valid the hadith is considered to be.
When in doubt or should there be any contradiction between the Quran and Hadith, Muslims will always refer to the Quran first and foremost.
Denominations:
The bigggest (but not only!) divisions of Islam are Sunni and Shia, and both of those have separate madhabs, which are the separate thoughts and stances of specific Imams. When writing a Muslim character, a good first step would be to decide where your character’s family might have come from, as that could help inform which denomination your character might belong to. This will in turn inform things like the beliefs they grew up with, how they pray, their holy holidays, and so on. Obviously, all denominations fall under the bigger umbrella of Muslim, but can vary in practice.
Background:
The intersection of culture and religion affects a character beyond which denomination they likely belong to, such as whether they call prayer salah or namaz, the foods they might associate with Ramadan or Eid, and their community’s stance on things like hijab and alcohol.
One thing to keep in mind is that being Muslim is not synonymous with being Arab and vice versa. Not all Arabs are Muslim, not all Muslims are Arab or even Middle Eastern. In fact, the largest Muslim country in the world is Indonesia. That said, depending on your character’s race and backround, there is the potential they may have faced Arab elitism or other strands of racism within Muslim circles. Please see the reblog of this post for an article about one Black British Muslim woman’s experience with racism.
And, of course, your character and their family do not need to have been immigrants at all. They or their family may have been converts instead. According to most Muslim schools of thought, all that’s required for a person to be Muslim is stating the shahada in Arabic, honestly and with intent. It goes, “Ashhadu an la ilah illa Allah, wa an Mohammadan rasul Allah,” which translates as “I bear witness that there is no god but God, and that Mohammed is His prophet.” Shia Muslims, I believe, have an additional section, but otherwise that’s it. Recite that in front of witnesses with sincere belief and that’s all you need to be Muslim.
Pillars of Islam:
These are the duties or cornerstones of a Muslim’s faith and considered to be acts every Muslim should strive for. What the pillars are can, I think, differ between denominations, with Shia Muslims having additional ancillaries as well (any Shia readers, please feel free to correct me!) but both denominations agree that the following are important:
Salah—prayer
Sawm—fasting during Ramadan
Zakat—giving a certain percentage of income to charity or the community
Hajj—pilgrimage to Mecca
In all cases, these are considered mandatory only for those who are able. A person who cannot perform hajj, whether due to not being physically able to or lacking the funds to travel, is under no obligation.
Prayer:
Prayer is performed five times a day while facing the Qibla, which is the direction of Mecca. Prayer is formed of units, called rak’at, which consists of a set of actions done in a specific order. The “How to Pray Salah, Step by Step” article linked in the reblog of this post provides fairly good prayer instructions for beginners, so check it out for details! These include bowing, prostrating, and reciting some surahs.
Each of the five daily prayers has a different number of rak’at, as well as its own name and allotted time of day, as follows:
Fajr, which means Dawn and can be performed at any point until the sun rises (two rak’at).
Dhuhr, which means Noon (four rak’at)
Asr, performed in the afternoon (four rak’at)
Maghreb, which means sunset and can be performed at any point until it’s dark (three rak’at)
Isha, performed at night and can be done at any point until dawn (four rak’at)
The specific time of prayer will differ day to day and place to place, according to the sun, but those are the rough timeframes for each. It’s generally preferred that a Muslim does their prayer on time, but in practice some Muslims find it difficult to wake up for Fajr, for instance, and just try to make sure they get a morning prayer in before noon.
On Friday, there is a congregational Friday prayer at Dhuhr in a mosque called the Jumu’a prayer (which, fun fact, literally means gathering and is also the Arabic name for Friday!). Only men are required to take part in the congregation, however.
In Muslim majority countries, the time for prayer is announced by the adhaan, the call to prayer, from mosques and in media. This won’t be the case in the UK, and the character will likely have to rely on an adhaan app or looking up what time prayer should be.
There are various requirements for a prayer to be correct, chief of which is facing the Qibla and purity. Before performing prayer, a Muslim must purify themself by performing wudu, or ablutions, which basically involves washing the hands, arms, nostrils, face, head, and feet a specific number of times using clean water. The way I was taught these must be performed in a certain order, and the person shouldn’t speak during or after until their prayer is finished. This may be different for others.
Wudu is considered valid until nullified by bodily functions such as urinating, defecating, vomiting, flatulence, or any sexual activity. For Sunni Muslims, it’s also invalidated by going to sleep. If none of these have happened, a Muslim can perform more than one prayer using the same wudu.
Notably, a Muslim cannot pray if they’re on their period, as they’re considered in a state of impurity.
Another important requirement is that a Muslim be dressed modestly for prayer. The general guideline is that Muslim men should cover the area between their navel and knees with loose, non-revealing clothing, and that during prayer it’s preferred that they cover their chests as well Muslim women should cover everything except their face, hands, and feet. This means that a woman who isn’t hijabi would still wrap a hijab for prayer. For nonbinary Muslims, I don’t think there are specific guidelines yet, although please feel free to correct me.
If praying at home, a family may choose to pray together. In this case, the male head of the household usually stands at the front and acts as Imam, leading the prayer. Other men will tend to be in front of or beside women, as generally women should not pray in front of a man. This is the case even, especially, if he is not praying.
Children aren’t required to pray, as they’re considered innocent and have no obligations, but may want to take part early on or may be encouraged to practice.
Praying is one area you’ll find denominational differences. For example, while Sunnis fold their arms in prayer, Shia keep their arms to their side, and while Shia Muslims make sure their foreheads touch a piece of clay or earth when they prostrate, Sunnis do not. If you write your character praying, keep these details in mind.
Fasting:
During the holy month of Ramadan, Muslims fast from Fajr (dawn) until Maghreb (sunset) every day. This means they abstain from consuming anything—yes, even water, cigarettes, and medicine. They should also abstain from sexual activities and cursing. Most importantly, they must have the intention to be fasting. This means that not eating and drinking because they were asleep for that entire period of time or just lost track and forgot does not count as fasting.
Generally, the idea is more to try to be more pious and avoid sin throughout the month. It’s thought that the shaytan (or devil) is chained up during Ramadan, so any temptation or sinning is a person’s own doing. The way I was raised, I was taught that sawm/fasting is invalidated by sexual thoughts and raising your voice as well. Many people also try to dress more modestly during Ramadan, with some women opting for looser clothing or a headscarf. Many Muslims will try to read the whole Quran during Ramadan.
After Maghreb, Muslims break their fast with Iftar (which means breakfast, hah) and have a late night meal called Suhour. Since the Muslim calendar is a lunar calendar, Ramadan is 11 days earlier every year. Depending on when Ramadan falls in the year, there can be barely any time between iftar and suhour in certain parts of the world, as the sun is up for so much of the day.
Given the length of time and difficulty involved, there are exceptions and allowances for fasting. A person is not required to fast if they are:
A child (up to puberty)
Ill or has a medical condition such as diabetes
Pregnant
Travelling
On their period
In fact, if they are on their period it will not be counted, even if they do fast. That said, sometimes people choose to fast while travelling anyway, as travel is less strenuous now than it used to be. If they’re crossing time zones they will have to consider which time zone they’re breaking their fast to. As far as I remember, it’s based on the time zone of the place they just left or started their fast in.
If an obstacle to fasting is temporary, such as their period, they’re expected to make those days up with additional fasting before next Ramadan. Otherwise, they are allowed to make up for the lost fast in another way, such as by donating money or feeding fasting people. Whether due to societal pressure (which is formidable in Muslim-majority countries) or out of consideration for others who are fasting, those who are not fasting for whatever reason may often choose to hide this and only eat in secret.
If a person forgets they were fasting or accidentally consumes something, it does not invalidate the fast , and as soon as they remember or realise the mistake they can have the intention to fast again and continue with their day.
While children are exempt, many families will start them off by fasting for half a day so they can build up to a full day when they hit puberty.
Ramadan traditions vary wildly from country to country and culture to culture, but generally it’s a time for family gathering and celebration. Often there are special Ramadan-specific food, drink, and decorations, and it ends with Eid ul-Fitr which has its own specific foods and celebrations. Basically, imagine if Christmas lasted a month. That’s how big a deal Ramadan is.
In my experience, the first few days are usually the hardest. Water is what I tended to miss the most, even if I managed to stay up long enough or set an alarm to wake up to drink just before fajr, followed closely by swearing. Anyone who drinks caffeine or smokes cigarettes will likely find abstaining from those more difficult than water. By the end of the month, though, it gets much easier and I often got to the point where I barely noticed. I will say, however, that the longest I’ve had to fast has been maybe 16 hours. A summer Ramadan in the UK would be more difficult due to the much later sunsets.
Halal and Haram:
Halal means ��permissible,” while haram means “forbidden.” You might have heard these words in passing before, such as halal food, but they are used for many areas of life.
Things that are considered haram include:
Consuming, serving, or trading in intoxicants, such as alcohol
Consuming improperly slaughtered meat or meat from forbidden animals, such as pork
Extramarital sex
Tattoos
Gambling
Men wearing silk or gold
A Muslim woman marrying a non-Muslim man (although it’s fine for a Muslim man to marry a non-Muslim woman)
Being immodest
Modesty is expected of all genders, including men. If you’ll recall from the section on prayer, the general guideline for male modesty is that they should cover the area between their navel and knees with loose, non-revealing clothing. Note that for women, modesty does not necessarily involve wearing a hijab. There is actually a ton of controversy as to whether the hijab is a fard (requirement) or not, as described in the following section.
The Hijab:
To be hijabi takes more than just throwing on a headscarf. As a word, hijab means “barrier” or “veil,” and a hijabi person would be expected to cover everything except their face and the palms of their hands, and to ensure that their clothes are loose and non-revealing. It all comes from an interpretation of two verses in the Quran that many scholars nowadays agree to mean the hijab is required, and that some say actually call for a face covering as well, which is called a niqab.
This wasn’t always the case, however, and these days there is still the occasional controversial scholar (I remember a few kerfuffles coming out of Egypt’s Al-Azhar mosque recently) saying it isn’t and has never been required at all. At least in the Arab world, this is largely due to the wave of Wahhabism (which is a specifically fundamentalist interpretation of Islam) that’s taken over the region in the past half a century. Before that, the idea of a hijab being a religious requirement was less widespread.
I’m not here to argue who’s right or wrong, just to make you aware that the hijab as we know it today hasn’t always been considered a requirement for a Muslim woman. Most of the women of my family never wore any form of head covering, but more and more they are an exception rather than the norm.
The choice of whether to wear a hijab can mean very different things, depending on the surrounding culture. For instance, my grandmother, the strictest woman I have ever known, got married in a very cute sleeveless dress that went just under the knees, and when she grew older she wore a head-covering more as a cultural indication of age rather than any religious reason. In my generation, in a country with a Muslim majority, lack of visible signs of devoutness have become almost a class marker, with some upper-class women using their lack of head-covering as a sign that they are “more Westernized” or “modern.” And again, I want to emphasize that this is the case for my country only.
This will be completely different for Muslim minorities, where the hijab can become a symbol of pride and unity.
I will say that it’s very rare for women to be forced into getting veiled, whether in Muslim minority or majority countries. I’m not saying it never happens, just that it’s not the “oppressive tool of the patriarchy” outsiders sometimes think it is. Women may face some societal pressure, but by and large it is considered a choice and often an empowering one. In fact, I have friends whose families discouraged them from wearing a hijab too young and emphasized only taking the decision when they were sure they wanted to. If writing a Muslim character when you’re non-Muslim, I strongly suggest not trying to tackle the story of someone forced into a hijab, as there’s a lot of nuance there and it’s very easy to fall into harmful stereotypes. The hijabi woman who gets “liberated” and takes off her hijab is also overdone and harmful. Please don’t.
Everyday Life:
Muslims are not a monolithic entity, and some will be more devout or religious than others. There are those who will pray their five a day and others who only pray during Ramadan or Eid, some who don’t drink and some who do, hijabis who dress only in loose clothing and those who wear tight trousers or show some of their hair, some who have tattoos, and some who may date or even have sex before marriage. However, this isn’t a carte-blanche not to do research when writing a Muslim character, because even if they break a rule of Islam, they will be conscious of it, may be concerned about their community’s response to it, and in any case will be affected by it.
For instance, I know many Muslims who drink alcohol. Some interpret the text differently, saying that since the sin is getting drunk then they won’t drink enough to get drunk, just buzzed. Some only do it on special occasions or on vacation, saying they know it’s a sin but it’s fine on occasion and they’ll repent later. All of them would probably dive under a table if they thought their family was nearby.
For more opinions on Muslims and dealing with alcohol, take a look at the “Islam and Alcohol” article linked in the reblog of this post.
Here are things that a character who is a practicing Muslim might do or be concerned about in their day to day life:
Checking ingredients to make sure they’re all halal. This goes for things like food, drink, medicine, anything consumable. Things like gelatine capsules are only halal if the source of the gelatine is itself halal, for instance.
Keeping up with their prayers. With five prayers a day, some will inevitably happen while they’re out of the house. Some Muslims prefer to just group their prayers when they get home, but since it’s preferable to do prayers on time, others may try to pray while out and about This means considering the following:
Finding a bathroom for wudu. Part of wudu involves washing feet and the head, which isn’t feasible in a public location or if the person is hijabi and doesn’t want to unwrap and rewrap their hijab. In that case, they can generally wipe a wet hand over their socks and top of their head covering.
They may carry a prayer carpet or have one stashed in a convenient location, but it’s not a must.
Finding a clean and secluded place to pray. Generally, it’s not done to pray in a place where someone will pass in front of you, and a woman must also take care to pray away from men’s eyes.
Figuring out where the Qibla is. Luckily, there are apps for that.
If a woman is not hijabi, she would have to carry a veil and, depending on her clothes, something to cover up so she can pray.
If they’re hijabi, they’ll probably have to adjust or re-wrap their hijab throughout the day, depending on the material and their activities. This would typically happen in bathrooms or any other space that doesn’t include men, as they can’t reveal themselves to any men who aren’t of their immediate family. For more on the hijab, and the day to day realities of wearing and wrapping one, take a look at the links provided in the reblog of this post.
A Muslim woman may choose not to accept handshakes from men who aren’t family. She has probably considered how to deal with that potential awkwardness.
If they’re fasting, they might carry some dates or biscuits or something in case they need to break their fast while on the go.
If making plans, they might say, “Insha’allah” which means “God willing.” I was always admonished to do so to acknowledge the future is entirely within God’s hands.
If asked how they are, they might reply with “Alhamdullilah” which means “Thanks be to God.”
When starting to eat, they may say, “Bismillah,” which means “In the name of God” and when done eating may say “Alhamdullilah.” These can also be invoked silently.
As you might have noticed, Allah’s name is invoked pretty often. While it’s not preferable to swear using God’s name just to make a point (“Wallahi”), there’s nothing against it, really.
Fundamentally, an important thing to remember is that Islam is a religion of ease and not hardship. This is an actual Quranic quote. What this means is, it may seem like there are a lot of rules to keep in mind, but there are also a ton of allowances for when those rules aren’t feasible, just like the case for fasting above. Other allowances include how an elderly or disabled person who may not be able to perform the motions of prayer can pray while sitting in a chair or even lying in bed. If there isn’t any clean water to purify before prayer or if using the water would mean lack of drinking water, a Muslim can use dust or sand to purify, and if no dust or sand is available then they don’t need to purify at all and can simply pray.
This means that, say, if your Muslim Jon wants to pray while kidnapped by the circus, he can, even without being able to perform wudu, even without knowing where the Qibla is, even without being able to move or say anything at all.
For more day-to-day tidbits, check out the “More on writing Muslim characters” link in the reblog of this post.
LGBTQ Muslims:
Needless to say, Queer Muslims absolutely do exist, and their being Muslim doesn’t cancel out their queerness or vice versa. While there are Quranic verses that have been interpreted as condemning homosexuality, there are also other interpretations, and queerness has existed in Muslim societies for ages. There was a ton of homoerotic imagery among Abbasid poets during the Golden Age of Islam, for example.
However, modern-day attitudes can be difficult to get around, and queer Muslims may have difficulty finding their place in both Muslim spaces and queer spaces, the latter which often expect them to reject religiosity.
Although I am queer myself, I don’t feel it’s my place to speak for queer Muslims and their relationships with their communities beyond this, so I’ll let some queer practicing Muslims speak for themselves. Please see the reblog of this post for valuable contributions from queer Muslims about their experiences.
Miscellaneous:
This is mostly for all the random tidbits I thought up while writing this that didn’t fit anywhere else and also because I don’t know when to quit apparently, SO!
Allah is just Arabic for God. Muslims can and do use these terms interchangeably, such as saying “God willing,” instead of “Inshallah,” even in an Arabic-speaking country.
Also, God has 99 names! Just a fun fact for you there.
The Devil in Islam is pretty different from his Christian counterpart. Referred to as Iblis or Shaytan, among other names, he is not a fallen angel and there is no great revolt story, nor is he considered a root of all evil. Instead, he is a djinn made of smokeless flame who refused to bow down to Adam, as he felt he was made of superior stuff and not about to bow to a creature made of mud. His disdain for humanity is what has caused him and other shayateen/demons to try and tempt humans.
A person’s right hand is considered purer than their left, so it’s encouraged to always eat with your right hand. Unfortunately, this does mean left-handed people face something of a stigma—or at least that’s the case here in Egypt. My cousins, both lefties, both eat with their right hand, though they do everything else with their left.
Similarly, it is considered better to enter spaces with your right foot, though only the most devout are likely to think of this all the time. This is especially considered for entering a mosque or new home.
A Muslim might say or write “Peace be Upon Him” whenever the Prophet Mohammed is mentioned, written as (PBUH), and “Subhanuh wa Taala” when mentioning Allah, written as (SWT).
The Evil Eye is mentioned in the Quran as “hasad,” and considered to be a very real thing. This jealous or envious energy is considered able to ruin good things in your life, even if the jealous person didn’t intend to. There are some surahs that are considered good to ward against it, as well as incense, the colour blue, the number five, and the symbols of the nazar (which is a round, blue-ringed eye) and the khamsa (an open five-fingered palm, also known as the Hand of Fatima). The nazar, khamsa, and belief in the evil eye aren’t unique to Islam at all. What is unique to Islam is that a Muslim might preface a compliment with “Masha’allah” which means “As God wills it,” to ward off their own evil eye.
Much of the Quran in Arabic rhymes and is very poetic, which can make surahs easy to memorise by rhythm. It can also make recitations by a skilled reader very lovely.
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Shut Eye
pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff
premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: I was listening to the piano version of ‘For Forever’ from Dear Evan Hansen while writing this...so maybe that explains it?? THIS IS SOOO CHEESY YOU GUYS
requested by anon - thanks for the fun request, hope you enjoy! a picture of your ask/request will be at the bottom of the post. Thank you!
_________________________________
You awoke with a gasp, the covers flung aside in an effort to grab the notebook and pen you kept handy on your nightstand. Not bothering to flip on the lamp, you used the little moonlight filtering in through your window to write down the events of your dream.
You spent most nights in the dreamscape with your soulmate, his face and voice a blurry mess in your mind. The two of you would talk for hours, that much you know. The general idea of the conversation would stick with you as well, but beyond anything else, you’d wake up with the same familiar feeling.
The specific brand of heartbreak that tends to accompany goodbyes.
Tonight’s dream had been something entirely different, though. Try as you might, your mind can’t seem to conjure up the exact words your soulmate had so calmly whispered in your ear as you stood on a red carpet facing innumerable flashing cameras. However, one thing was for certain.
He was trying to send you a message.
He was trying to find you out in this big world.
You’ve made a bullet-point list now, with the words red carpet, famous?? and beautiful suit starting off the list. As the list continued on, you only grew more and more confused. Why did your soulmate choose that dreamscape? After years of the usual sitting room and long chats, something must have happened to make him change.
Frustrated, you scanned last night’s notes to see if anything out of the ordinary had happened. You nearly gave up before one of the final bullet-points caught your attention.
we talked about family
did we talk about our family??
Eyebrows scrunched and lips pouted, you wracked your brain for any recollection of the conversation from the night before. Indeed, you remembered waking up with the distinct feeling of discussing future baby names, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what he had said he liked. What you did remember was that it was a name that had made you laugh, and that he had been upset about it for the rest of the evening.
Not too upset, though. He’d still quietly warned you in the way he always did when he knew he was about to wake up. Softly lacing his hand through yours, running his thumb over the back of your knuckles until in the blink of an eye he was gone.
There had been several occasions when you’d woken up still feeling the ghost of his hand on yours.
The notebook in your hands glared up at you, an unwelcome reminder that you were nowhere near close to understanding the meaning of your most recent dream.
Normally, you would have just let it go. But today was different. Today you woke up just knowing that he had meant something by the dream. The way he’d brought you out on that red carpet, your arm linked through his as he led you toward a group that was already posing for pictures-
Wait. A group? You’d forgotten that part. Another bullet-point was added to the growing list.
part of a group (friends?)
Your eyes drifted shut as you tried to remember any more details, the ways the cameras flashed seemed to impair your vision as you’d looked at the group that had smiled as you neared. One of them had made some extra space for you and your soulmate, and you’d nearly keeled over when you saw who it was.
But who was it?
You sighed, scribbling one last bullet-point before your brain quit functioning.
I recognized the friends - famous?
It was a bit discouraging to look down at the list and see so many question marks, but you paid it no mind as you tossed your notebook back onto the nightstand and found the strength to get up for the day.
You’d just have to wait until the next dream.
•••••••••••••••••••••••
“I have no idea where this is going,” you admitted while staring up at the ceiling, sprawled out on your bed. “But I just know that he’s trying to tell me something. You know?”
Your best friend, Ji-eun, just laughed on the other side. “I’m sure he was...but honestly, who knows? Maybe he just wanted a change of scenery.”
“Ugh. You’re no fun.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but no more fun for you tonight. I’ve got to go to bed. Got to wake up early tomorrow, remember? It’s a big day.”
“Oh, that’s right! Are you nervous?”
You’d nearly forgotten that your best friend was also one of South Korea’s most beloved singers. On most days, you forgot her stage name, too.
“No, not really. I just usually hate having to sit there by myself, you know? There are so many groups, and them I’m just by myself. Looking beautiful.”
“Aww, poor IU, all alone.” You teased. “I’d go with you, but-”
In an instant, Ji-eun, or IU, squealed and you knew that she had an idea. “Yes! Come with me!! I’ll sneak you in! You won’t even have to worry about the red carpet- wait.”
You winced, having held the phone at a distance from your ear so as to not immediately lose your hearing. “Oh no, now what? You know I’m not fit for award shows, Ji-eun.”
“Didn’t you say that your dream was on the red carpet?”
You blinked. “Yeah.”
“Sooo,” Ji-eun dragged out, “Maybe you’ll see him.”
A wry laugh escaped you. “What makes you think he would recognize me even if he was there? Or that I would recognize him?”
IU made an indecisive noise. “Well, you already described his beautiful suit-”
“Hey, no teasing. It was absolutely gorgeous.”
“Exactly! If there’s a guy that shows up wearing that suit, then maybe that’s him! And, maybe he’s part of a group! You would recognize the group if you saw them, wouldn’t you?”
“You’re just trying to get me to come with you,” you drawled, ignoring the little spark of hope.
“Obviously. Hey, you know that really pretty red dress you bought not that long ago?”
“Yeah.”
“Wear that, and work your dreamscape magic or something to help him remember the red dress. He’ll recognize you when he sees you tomorrow!”
With an eye roll you’re pretty sure Ji-eun heard through the phone, you groaned. “If he’s even there. If.”
“So you’ll do it?”
In the end, it was the memory of having to say goodbye every morning without even remembering who you were saying goodbye to that had you agreeing.
••••••••••••••••••
Falling into your dreams had always felt more like waking up, the urge to stretch and run around almost too much to deny. Tonight, you entered the familiar sitting room that you’d frequented nearly every night for the past few years.
Your soulmate is waiting for you when you enter, his back turned to you.
A part of you knows that the two of you have been through this many times before. You’ve technically met your soulmate hundreds of times - maybe even thousands at this point. But every night, it’s the same little feeling of anticipation as you wait for him to turn around.
Always wondering who it might be. Always dreading the moment you wake up and forget his face all over again, waiting for the next dream to identify him.
He’s in the black, lightly checkered suit that he wore last night, not a single strand of his black hair out of place as he turns around with wide eyes.
Your breath is momentarily caught in your throat as you suddenly recognize him, not only from the previous dreams but from nearly everywhere else in the waking world.
“Hey,” Yoongi mumbles, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”
You looks down at the red dress you’re wearing, the same one you’re planning on wearing at the award show. Nodding at his suit, you grin.
“Are you wearing that to the award show today?”
He nods, stepping toward you. “I wish you could go, I know that I’d be able to find you-”
“I am.”
Yoongi stops, his mouth slightly open. He takes a single step toward you. “You are? How?”
“Ji-eun is my best friend, remember?”
He takes a moment to recall that tidbit of information about you, nodding. “So...we’ll see each other.”
“I hope so.” You tilt your head. “But will you recognize me? It was so hard for me to remember any details after last night’s dream, I feel like it’s getting harder.”
“I think it is,” Yoongi agrees, striding over to you and grabbing your hand even as a light pink dusts over his cheeks. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this dress.” With a wink that belies his shy nature, Yoongi leads you out onto the red carpet, where cameras are waiting.
He walks you through the event, glancing at you every few seconds as though afraid that you’ll disappear at any moment. That’s certainly a valid concern - it’s happened plenty of times.
You’ve just made it to where the rest of the members are standing when you feel the tell-tale pull back toward reality.
You’ll be waking up at any moment now. Most likely because of that pesky nest of birds that have decided to camp out just outside of your windows.
Instinctively your grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens, and he turns to you. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re about to leave.
“What if it doesn’t work?” You blurt out, taking in every last detail of him. From the way his cheeks are still pink to the fit of his suit.
Yoongi absolutely shocks you as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling you a little closer. His breath that dusts over your ear feels so real as he whispers gently to you.
“We’ll find a way. I promise.”
•••••••••••••••••••
It was the same dream as the night before; the same infuriating goodbye that seeped into your bones as you hurtled awake. However, this time, you could have sworn that you recalled a puppy-dog gaze that was begging you to remember him as you left the dreamscape.
You’d worn the red dress you currently had on, the red lace falling just below your knees. A part of you remembered the way your soulmate had reacted when you’d waltzed into the dreamscape, the way you had casually linked your arm through his as you walked onto the red carpet.
Today you couldn’t find the energy to write anything in your full notebook, opting to bury your head in your hands.
“Who are you?” You groaned. The feeling of his soft lips against your forehead has you sighing, wishing that you could replay it all over again. After shooting a glare at the red dress hanging in your closet, you grabbed your notebook to write down one note before getting up.
We love each other
•••••••••••••••••••
Ji-eun - er, IU, instructed you to wait for her at the entrance to the photo-op portion of the red carpet. She would be busy doing little interviews before that, which honestly didn’t seem that appealing to you.
Especially not when you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up.
Staring down at your red dress, you nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a hand on your shoulder.
“Ha! You’re jumpy today,” IU teased, “I wonder why.”
“Oh good, you’re finished.” You ignored her tease, happy to get moving. “You look amazing.”
It wasn’t a surprise, but she still deserved to be complimented. IU looked absolutely ethereal in her flowy green gown, the two of you looking like some sort of Christmas ad.
“You look great as well!” She motioned toward the carpet. “I think we’re just after this group. Ready?”
Armed with a smile and your best friend at your side, you ventured onto the carpet. It was easier than you though it would be; most of the time you were stepping aside to allow the photographers a clear view of IU.
You’ve nearly made it to the end when a fresh round of screaming picks up.
There’s only one group that can command that much attention.
You couldn’t help but crane your neck as you see BTS walk onto the carpet, just a couple of groups behind you. Your eyes widened on their own accord when you saw them, unable to shake the feeling of having met them before.
Of course, they pay you no mind. However, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Suga took a moment to get up on his tippy-toes, looking around. You went to point it out to IU, nobody paying either of you any mind as you walk off the carpet. You lost all ability to speak, however, as you took a closer look.
It’s the suit.
The one that is checkered with a light gray, the one that fit your soulmate just right.
It’s the black hair that’s perfectly styled.
And as Suga turned to look your way, you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your red dress.
Almost like he had been looking for a red dress.
In the span of a single heartbeat, you made eye contact with the idol, the same question lingering in your eyes.
For Min Yoongi, that’s all it took.
Abandoning all precepts, he took off down the carpet, heading straight toward you. From the way the other members took one look at you and your red dress and immediately began speaking to those present, you knew that they’d been waiting for this. Knew that they weren’t planning on keeping this low-key, because there was no real way to do that.
Not as Yoongi saw you and knew.
You managed to take three steps toward him before he was before you, grinning with his gummy smile even as his ears turned red.
“Quick,” Yoongi breathed out, reaching down to take your hands in his. “If it’s really you, tell me what name we can’t agree on for a girl.”
The question threw you off guard, making you laugh. But after a moment, you found with a gasp that you remember.
You remembered everything.
The way the two of you first awkwardly stumbled into the dreamscape at the age of nineteen. How you eventually opened up to each other, grew to care deeply about the other.
You remembered the nights when the two of you were rambunctious and laughing at stupid stories Yoongi told you about the boys.
You remembered the nights when you sat in silence, dreading the moment you would have to wake up.
And you remembered that just a few days ago, Yoongi had brought up family. You’d spent the night talking about how many children you’d want, how you’d raise them, what you’d name them.
And there was one horrible name that he loved and you hated, and neither of you were willing to budge on it.
“Ugh,” you groaned even as you smiled. “We are not naming her Pearl! It would make her sound like a pirate ship!”
The cameras flashed, which made Yoongi’s eyes glimmer as he laughed along with you. Then, without a care in the world except for knowing for certain that it was all real, Yoongi tugged you closer until your foreheads touched and all you could see were his dark eyes pulling you in.
“I told you we’d find a way.”
Hundreds of cameras flashed, documenting the moment and effectively labeling it a dream come true.
masterlist
#Yoongi x reader#idol!yoongi x reader#idol!bts x reader#yoongi fluff#suga fluff#suga x reader#idol!suga x reader#yoongi x y/n#bts x y/n#suga x y/n#bts fluff#bts soulmate au#yoongi soulmate au#bts shared dreams au#suga shared dreams au
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on the road (to you)
summary: as a young adult, one of the strangest revelations is the discovery that peers of yours from past fragile college years are getting married. so imagine your shock and excitement upon receiving a wedding invitation. there are, however, two problems: (1) you are a poor early-20s recently employed adult just beginning to adjust to your 401k plan, and (2) the only available ride to the wedding comes in the form of Jeon Jungkook—friend of a friend, attendee to that aforementioned wedding, and your old college crush.
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
genre: roadtrip au, strangers to lovers au | fluff/angst
warnings: recreational alcoholic consumption, definitely not an accurate representation of how a road trip might actually be, mentions of anxiety + insecurities, very minor book reference to: The Night Circus, equally minor movie references to: Mission Impossible and The Princess Bride because I have a problem, light makeout sessions, talks of DTR (define the relationship), some angst but this is me so there’s a happy ending.
word count: 27k
a/n: a birthday present for the one and only Jeon Jungkook, whom I love and respect so much and only wish the bestest of days for. Partly inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “invisible string” + a love letter of sorts to my own old high school crush for whom my memory of him helped build Jungkook’s character. This also turned out way longer than I ever wanted it to be lol oops!
update: i was actually able to do a writer’s audio tag on this fic!!! check it out if you want to hear about the behind the scenes process that went into writing this fic <3
.
When you land a job in the months following your college graduation, you feel as if you are on top of the world. How could you not? After all, the norm that follows post-college is one of disappointment and constant hunts online to find job openings for any position that could suit your background and previous work experiences. It’s a fear that plagues lots of your friends, both those in college and out. It’s the same paranoia you had in the months leading up to graduation and the few months after graduation—in which your days were measured by the boxes you packed to move out of your tiny college apartment and into an equally tiny new apartment you currently share with an old roommate of yours, as well as the days you spent hunched over your computer and scrolling through job postings.
You had gone through more than a handful of cover letters, resume submissions, and in person interviews before finally landing the job you currently have and have been working under for a month now.
Throughout the course of the recent month, you’ve continued to secure certain moments that solidify the confidence that you’re finally becoming an adult. Sure, a barely functioning adult who mostly still uses the microwave to heat up your frozen Mac and Cheese—but an adult nonetheless. From learning how to pay your bills online, to realizing that grocery shopping was something you needed to make a conscious effort to do, along with going to and from your nine to five job with your coffee order in hand.
All of those things have helped you feel like you were, perhaps, finally getting your life together.
And then you receive the invitation in the mailbox.
It happens when you unlock your box on a bright March morning, taking out the usual round of bills and fashion magazines until your fingers lock around an envelope bigger than the normal letter size. It’s much sturdier too.
You don’t know what to think of the letter, until you bring the damn thing back into your apartment and rip the opening. The mere sight of the content inside makes you feel like the hand of life has just taken your figurine and moved you back a good twenty squares.
The post in your hand reads:
WITH GREAT JOY, IRENE AND SEOKJIN REQUEST THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE FOR THEIR WEDDING CELEBRATION ON THE DAY OF MAY 25TH. COCKTAILS, DINNER, AND DANCING TO FOLLOW.
There’s a date at the bottom of the invitation. As you line the date up with your calendar, you realize that you have a week to RSVP to the event.
You toss the envelope onto the counter in the kitchen just to glare at the cardstock, maybe to convince yourself this is a dream or at least convince yourself that it’s normal for your friend from college to be getting married even when you have yet to land a successful relationship of your own.
You aren’t as close with Irene as you used to be, but the memory of your friendship is still at the forefront of your mind. The pair of you met during your final year of university, when you were assigned to work together for one of your many senior projects and immediately clicked. The months you spent in her apartment and vice versa pulling out all-nighters in desperate attempts to finish your project definitely earns you an invitation. At the very least, you are happy to see that Irene: bright and smart and funny, is getting married.
Not only that, but getting married to Seokjin. He’s a year older than you and Irene, but those two met when he was still enrolled and have been inseparable ever since. You don’t know relationships that well, but you know them enough to recognize that Seokjin and Irene were what everyone called the ‘endgame’. In truth, it was only a matter of time before you were to receive one of these from them.
But did she really have to one-up you like this? Not that it’s a competition. However, it does leave a funny feeling to see someone the same age as you display a much more put together handle on life. You groan at the thought.
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Karly asks.
You turn to your roommate. She’s seated at the kitchen table, books out and everywhere as she looks over at you. Karly: fellow alumni, graduated from her undergrad program early to go straight into pursuing her master’s degree. She’s a busy bee. You wave the envelope. “Irene is getting married.”
Her eyes widen. “Ah shit, no way?” She takes the paper that you offer to her and looks over the invitation. “Damn, I knew it was only a matter of time before we started getting this stuff, but to actually see it happening…”
You groan. “I know right!” You take the cardstock back from your friend. “It’s only been six months since we graduated, how could she be getting married already?”
“Well, Irene did have a job lined up for her right after graduation,” Karly points out thoughtfully. She sees the look of bewilderment you give her. “What? It was on her Instagram.”
You pout. “Of course Irene would have a job lined up like that.” You run a hand through your hair. “I mean, that’s good for her. Really good, actually…”
Karly jerks her chin towards the envelope still in your hand. “So, are you planning to go?”
“I don’t know, do you have plans that day?” You wave the paper. “I’m allowed a plus one.”
Your roommate cracks a smile. “Are you asking me out? A little forward of you, we’ve been friends for so long…”
You whine, shaking the paper and little more frantically. “Karly, this is important! I don’t want to go alone, I won’t know anyone!”
She laughs. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What was the date again?”
You provide the date to her. You approach Karly’s place at the kitchen table and watch as she opens the calendar on her laptop. Immediately, you are overwhelmed by all the deadlines she’s got under practicality every date on the screen. Yet, a “wow” is the only thing you can say at the sight.
Karly smiles, sparing you a glance over her shoulder. “One of the joys of being a grad student slash T.A. slash research assistant.” She scrolls down into May, and narrows her eyes upon May 25th. Underneath the date is an event—color coated to bright orange and typed out in all caps. CONFERENCE WITH PROFESSOR WONG. “Oh crap, I have a conference that day.”
“No…” You whine some more, trailing off as you grab Karly by the shoulders and begin shaking. “Karly! You’ve left me out for the bears! What am I supposed to do?”
Karly laughs as she lets herself be manhandled in this way. “I don’t know! Go and deepen your social life or something.”
You stop shaking her and glare instead. “Is that a joke?”
“What do you expect me to say?” She retorts, appalled by your answer. “Then don’t go.”
You whine again. “But this is Irene, and I’ll feel bad for not going and congratulating her!”
“Then go!”
“But I don’t have a plus one!”
Karly places her hands at her temples. “Oh my god, this is like the circle of stupidity with you. Then find a plus one! Or just don’t go!” She whirls around to face you. “I will help you find a dress if you decide to go. I will also sit with you on the couch and eat popcorn with you if you decide not to go.”
You continue to pout, knowing that you deserve that gentle attempt at a lecture but still not liking the reason why you needed such a talking to.
“Fine,” You eventually decide to say, sliding into the seat next to Karly and leaning forward to plant your entire upper body on the table.
Karly laughs at your defeated posture. “Well, you have the rest of the week to make your decision.”
She has a point. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.
.
For the rest of the week the decision of whether or not you should attend the wedding becomes a weight in your mind. You spend the next few days pondering it, thinking over the pros and the cons.
As overdramatic as it is, you think about it during work, when you’re partaking in your home workout routines, and even when you’re about to fall asleep. You do want to go, you really do. It’ll be the first time you attend a wedding that didn’t involve a relative, which feels like a big deal in your adult agenda mindset. And Irene is someone you wouldn’t mind spending an evening with to catch up.
However, you wouldn’t get to spend the evening with Irene—after all, a wedding implies that she would likely be mingling with all of her guests and you would just be another attendee forced to find other means of entertainment. That’s where the plus one comes in handy. Except you don’t have a plus one. A slight problem.
You sigh. Work is a little slow today, as you are also experiencing the afternoon slump in which your mind drifts away more often than usual. You find yourself with a small laundry list of tasks (such as emailing companies, working on drafts for releases, and trying to set up different appointments) but without the motivation to do those things right away. Because of that, your afternoon slump takes the form of opening airline services to find information and prices about flying to Irene’s wedding. It’s in her hometown, about a five hour flight time from here to there.
You click on the various boxes that require information, finally allowing a search. As the search goes through, your eyes take in all the prices—both the amount to get there and to get back—and your lips part slightly at the totaling numbers.
“Five hundred dollars?” You mutter to yourself. You’re not sure how this would work with budgeting, but you’re still trying to figure out how to balance the cost of AC, the internet, and how to eat appropriate meals at least once a day. You don’t have five hundred dollars to spend on an airplane ticket. A slightly bigger problem.
You sigh again, resting your elbow on the desk and your chin in the palm as your eyes continue to scroll through the website.
Behind you, fingers curl around the top of your cubicle. There is a silence between the two of you: him, merely observing, and you, completely oblivious, until he clears his throat.
You jump, having not expected to be interrupted like this. A squeak leaves the back of your throat as you whirl around to see who is visiting you. “Jimin!” You exclaim, taking in the boy now perched along the wall of your cubicle. This is before you narrow your eyes. “Asshole, you scared me!”
If you just started working here and learned that you’d be cursing out Park Jimin for startling you, that past version of yourself might have turned red, shocked, and nervous at the thought. A month ago, Jimin was that coworker—as friendly as friendly people come by. With his pretty eyes, perfectly soft pink lips, and freshly dyed brown hair, you had been immediately taken by his charm and helpful nature.
Then the month went by, and you realized there were no romantic intentions on either end. Jimin then became your first friend in your new job. Albeit, he’s a nosy friend who enjoys asking questions and dragging you out to nearby bars and coming over occasionally with take-out, but a friend nonetheless.
“Sorry!” Jimin says back, then he glares at you. “What are you doing over here anyways?”
You shake your head. “What do you mean?”
“What do you mean what do I mean? You’ve been sighing all afternoon.” Jimin pulls out a slip of paper from behind his back. “Fifty times in the last hour, I swear to god.”
You straighten out of your seat to get a better look at the paper, unamused to find fifty tally marks across the surface. “You’re lying, there’s no way that I sighed fifty times in an hour.”
“Of course you wouldn’t know, you’re the one doing all the sighing!” Jimin retorts, lowering his hand with the paper. “Is something up with you? Did something happen?” His eyes flicker to the monitor screen behind you and he frowns. “What the fuck? Are you moving away already?”
You blink. “What?”
He jerks his chin towards the computer. “You’re looking at flight prices.”
“Huh?” You turn around, having completely forgotten about your previous predicament in light of discovering that Jimin counts your sighs. “Oh! No…”
Jimin raises an eyebrow. “No, you’re not looking at flight prices?”
You slide back into your chair, a silent invitation for Jimin to step further into your cubicle. You sigh again, and he holds the paper back up. Taking a pencil out of his pocket, he makes another mark. You look over at him upon hearing the pencil scratch and scowl. “Give me that!” You grab the paper from his hand. “I’m dealing with a crisis right now, don’t count my sighs!”
“Alright! Alright!” Jimin slides behind you and leans forward to get a better look at your computer screen. “So where are you moving to this time?”
You press your lips together. “I’m not moving away. A friend of mine from college is getting married. I’m just trying to see how expensive it would be to fly over there.”
He whistles at the five hundred dollar price in your cart. “That’s pretty expensive.”
“I know!” You groan, throwing yourself further back into your chair. “I wouldn’t mind going, but I don’t have a plus one. And as you can see, flying there would be a challenge on my wallet.”
Jimin hums at that. “Well, regarding your plus one problem, I wouldn’t mind going with you.”
You turn to look at him. “Really? You’d go across the country and endure an entire evening with your coworker and her old college classmates?”
He shrugs. “If you’re desperate, I’ll keep my offer around.” He actually pouts this time. “Are you implying that you see me more as a coworker than a friend? After all the times we’ve hung out outside of work!”
Your eyes widen slightly, having not thought of that. “No, no, Jimin, I mean—yes, I do see you as a friend now but we met as coworkers so I just think of you as a coworker first—!” You’re rambling.
Jimin interrupts by patting your shoulder, the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile. “I’m just messing with you.”
You shake your head again. “Asshole,” You grumble, returning your attention back to your computer.
Jimin is still mid-laughter behind you. “Anyways, yeah, like I said. If you’re desperate to go, I wouldn’t mind going with you. But deciding how to get there is a different question entirely.”
You turn to glare at your friend for a moment. “I’ll let you know.”
He nods, before his lips part and he’s snapping his fingers. “Oh yeah! I wanted to ask you something.”
He backs up, allowing you enough space to turn around fully and face him. “Okay, what’s up?”
Jimin grins, lifting his leg up to nudge your chair slightly. “I’m going out tonight—you should come with.”
You don’t even give this a second thought. Your lips turn into a downwards curl as you shake your head. “Nope.”
Jimin looks appalled. “Why not? Didn’t you have fun the last time we went out?”
“If ‘fun’ to you is trying to drag your drunk ass home and staying the night to make sure you wouldn’t choke on your vomit…” You grumble, trying not to shudder at the memory. It has only been a few days since that ‘fun’ time.
“I told you that sometimes I overestimate my abilities, and I already apologized for that,” Jimin points out, although he does have the decency to look guilty for that mess. He perks up again. “But this’ll be different, I promise. I’m meeting up with some friends and we’re just gonna catch up. It’s at one of the quieter bars uptown: no loud DJ, no bright lights, no bottomless rum and coke. Promise. It’ll just be a lot of socializing.” He watches you hesitantly. Socializing has never been your strong suit. “And finger food.”
The mention of food does make you look up towards him—your first sign of interest towards something. However, another thought weighs you down. “Are you sure you even want me to go?” You ask after a moment. “I mean, this is a catch up with friends. Wouldn’t I be intruding?”
“Not at all!” Jimin brushes off, waving away your concern with his hand. “I told you, it’s a socializing thing. Besides, my friends are always bringing someone along. They were asking me when I’d have a friend tag along, so I thought you’d be a good selection.” He notices you still frowning. “C’mon! It’ll be fun. When I’m not vomiting over your shoes, I’m good company. And I promise I won’t be vomiting this time.”
You stare at Jimin for a moment longer, contemplating his words. This is very true. Jimin is an ideal friend to have during social gatherings—he’s good at keeping a conversation going so you don’t have to shoulder the weight alone, he’s good at reading when you’re in a good mood and when you’re ready to go home, and he’s excellent at keeping unwanted attention away. You know this. Jimin knows that you know this.
It takes one curl of your lips for Jimin to grin, knowing that he has convinced you. “Okay!” He says, finalizing the decision without having to hear the actual answer from you. He pats your knee. “We’ll take the subway after work, it’s just a few stops down.”
If your mind conjures up any second thoughts, Jimin leaves before you are able to express them.
.
True to Jimin’s word, the pair of you step into a subway heading westbound as soon as you’re finished with work. It’s much later in the day now, the afternoon sun has changed into a night sky with a chill spring breeze to match. The carts are filled with the evening crowd of adults, all done with another day of work and finding enjoyment for the rest of today by returning home or seeing friends. It’s a rarity that you would fall under that latter category, but the thought makes you excited nonetheless.
“Alright, so you wanna tell me a little bit about these friends that I’m seeing tonight?” You ask, gripping the handlebar above you but leaning towards Jimin so he can hear what you’re saying over the noise of the subway speeding down the tracks.
Jimin grins. “They’re just some friends I grew up with. We like to get together once a month to catch up and hang out, since everyone is so busy with their own lives.”
You smile back. “That’s actually really sweet of you guys, to plan hangouts once a month.”
He lightly flicks your forehead. “Hey, are you saying I’m normally not very sweet?”
“Well, not right now!” You protest, hand over your forehead. “That hurt.”
“You’re being a baby!” Jimin retorts back.
The pair of you continue to bicker like this until your stop is announced over the intercom. Jimin halts the further insults being thrown at each other as he gestures towards the approaching station, as seen through the window of the subway.
“This is our stop,” Jimin says to you, allowing you to step out onto the platform first. He joins behind you right after, leading the way as the subway’s three chimes signal the closing of the doors. There’s a breeze that follows, running through your hair and clothes as the subway zooms away to its next stop. The station itself is crowded, filled with groups of friends and individuals carrying on with the rest of their evening, overall looking so lively and you can feel yourself feeding off their energy.
With a gesture pointing up the stairs that’ll take the pair of you to ground level, Jimin leads the way. You make your way through people, following Jimin’s guide until you’re both exiting the station and entering the world of your new stop. It’s another area of the city you work in, so the change in scenery isn’t too dramatic—but it’s a place more catered towards restaurants, shopping areas, and hang-out sections. The bright neon signs protrude out from the building, flashing the various products or services the specific building offered: from manicure care to corner ramen shops.
“C’mon, let’s hurry!” Jimin calls back to you, picking his pace up slightly. He’s not running, but his long legs make it harder for you to keep up. “Everyone is already there.”
The pair of you continue to pace down the sidewalk, past the crowds of people waiting to eat, people lingering outside of clothing stores. Finally, Jimin slows down near a restaurant. He looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still behind him, before entering the establishment. He mentions something about knowing where their seats are, before continuing deeper into the restaurant.
As you look around, the place does look like a restaurant slash bar—not as crazy as some of the bars Jimin takes you with the intention of actually getting drunk, but there’s still a bar here and there’s still alcohol being shared heavily. It’s the same demographic of early 20s, young adults with friends, but there are actual tables and chairs and booths set up like a restaurant. So you suppose Jimin hadn’t been lying to you about this.
“There they are!” Jimin says to you, as you look up and follow Jimin’s finger to the table in the far corner that is completely filled with the exception of two seats. You vaguely make out the back of some heads, most belonging to boys, before your eyes land on one of the boys facing you and Jimin. He’s sitting at the far end of the table, currently laughing brightly at something one of the boys at the table has said. For all intents and purposes, the boy is cute. Extremely cute. When he laughs, his eyes and nose crinkle and his lips spread into a wild smile—and brings out the dimple on his cheek. He looks like the embodiment of all your ideal types mashed into a singular being.
All of those things. Yet, that is not the reason why you are staring. None of those things come close to why you stop dead in your tracks, why your heart drops in your chest, why your eyes widen. Even with the shitty lighting in this restaurant, you are one hundred percent positive. “Jimin!” You manage to choke out, having enough well power to grab onto his hand seconds before he is able to make himself and yourself known to his friends.
He whirls around, wide-eyed and curious and worried. “What? Is everything okay?”
You shake your head. The room feels too small. “I think there’s something I should tell you—!”
“Hey, is that Jimin? Jimin!” Your voice is very easily drowned out by the sound of another, much louder voice that seems to boom through the restaurant.
Jimin turns back around in time to face one of the boys from the table who has gotten out of his seat. You are able to see him from over Jimin’s shoulder—a tall boy with messy unkempt hair and a boxy smile. Jimin greets him with a “Taehyung!” before the boys embrace. “Taehyungie,” Jimin continues afterwards, turning around so both are able to face you. “This is Y/N, she’s a coworker of mine.”
Taehyung grins, a friendly gesture that makes you relax. But only slightly. “Y/N! It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a bit about you from Jimin. All good things, I promise.”
“W-Well, that’s good to hear,” You manage shakily, eyes nervously darting to the boy at the end of the table, who has stopped his conversation and is now looking at you and Jimin.
“Let me introduce you,” Jimin says, breaking your concentration as he rests a hand on your shoulder. He points right at the boy at the end of the table, who is still staring at you. His eyebrows are furrowed together. You want to bury yourself alive. “That one over there is—!”
A lightbulb seems to go off in the boy’s head. His face breaks out into a smile as he points at you. “Hey, Y/N!”
Jimin looks taken aback at the fact you are being recognized by someone at the table. His hand lowers as he looks over at you.
You, however, cannot focus on Jimin. You can only focus on the boy at the end of the table, the boy currently smiling over at you with all the light in his eyes, the boy who makes the memories flash through your mind. From that, the best you can manage is a tiny smile. “Jungkook!”
Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Where do you even begin with him?
You met Jungkook during your second year of university. He had been an arts major (you were not) and yet, your paths crossed multiple times throughout the quarter as a result of sharing many general education classes together. You even were forced to pair up on a project for one of those aforementioned G.E. classes. Neither of you ran in the same social circle, but that didn’t change how sweet, funny, charming, endearing, easy-going, friendly, smart, and nice Jungkook was. It was very easy for him to make friends, very easy for him to go out of his way to say hi to you in the library or in class or in the cafeteria, and very easy for him to strike up a basic conversation with you.
Because of that, it was very easy for you to fall for him—to develop a deep-rooted crush that went on for the rest of your university experience. You would use the term ‘friends’ very loosely when describing what your relationship with Jungkook had been. You had never hung out with him outside the context of school, never went out to eat with him, and never saw him again after graduation. Until now.
Actually, ‘acquaintances’ would probably be a much more fitting term.
“Hey, I haven’t seen you since graduation!” Jungkook is saying as he stands up from his chair and approaches you. As if on autopilot, you return the one armed hug he gives you. His smile, while still pleasant, holds a surprising tinge of shyness to it.
“Woah, hold on a second,” Jimin interrupts, immediately pointing between Jungkook and you. “You guys know each other?”
“Y/N and I went to university together!” Jungkook provides.
Jimin looks like his eyes are about to fall out of his sockets.
“We’ve known each other since second year,” Jungkook continues. He looks over at you. “I didn’t know you know Jimin.”
“Uh…” You forget how to speak. You’re too busy looking at Jungkook as if you haven’t seen him for years. In a way, it feels like that. Seeing people from college outside of college after a graduation ceremony is like meeting them again for the first time—most of them develop a more independent look. Some look like their life is seconds from falling apart. Some look much happier without the institutional pressure to secure classes and grades and internships. Sadly for you, Jungkook falls under the latter category. Did he always have that twinkle of starlight in his eyes?
“Y/N and I work together,” Jimin provides, seeming to realize that you weren’t going to answer Jungkook’s question. “She started working about a month ago.”
“Oh, that’s cool,” Jungkook replies, still looking at you. It is then he seems to notice that the three of you are standing in the middle of the restaurant. Although you are not distracting any patrons, the workers probably don’t appreciate it. “How about we sit down? We’ll be able to catch up more!”
Jimin seems to regain control of the situation quicker than you do, because he nods at Jungkook. “Let me introduce her to everyone, then we’ll join you.” You look over to where Jungkook had been sitting and immediately notice the previously empty two chairs right across from him—like fate, or something terrible like that.
So you watch as Jungkook makes his way back to his seat, and Jimin starts to guide you around the table. He only drops a name. Surprisingly, he doesn’t linger, he merely takes you to the next person. It only takes you a second to figure out why.
“You didn’t tell me you know Jungkook,” Jimin hisses in between the time it takes to travel in between people.
“I didn’t know you knew Jungkook!” You hiss back. You smile and nod politely at the person Jimin introduces as Yoongi. “Seriously, you never mentioned him once!”
Jimin only keeps his frustration for a moment before he’s introducing you to someone named Hoseok, a boy with a bright smile, the one who was making Jungkook laugh earlier. “Okay, fine,” He relents, the pair of you finally move to take your seats. “But what was that earlier?”
“What was what?”
“You were just staring at him! What, did you have a huge crush on him or something—?” Jimin accuses, but he stops. Just as the pair of you are about to sit down, Jimin parts his lips in realization. “Oh.” Then, he sends you an absolutely wicked grin. “Oh, okay.”
Your eyes widen at him, murder in your eyes. “Jimin!”
“So, Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice cuts through your little biting banter with Jimin.
You whirl around to face Jungkook, eyes completely devoid of murder and voice several pitches higher. “Hi, Jungkook!”
He smiles, such a wonderful little thing that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Hi.”
Jimin ducks his head to hide the fact that he wants nothing more than to burst into fits of laughter.
“So how have you been?” Jungkook starts up. “I haven’t seen you since graduation. Since you landed a job, you seem to be doing well.”
“I am!” You manage, only continuing to try and keep a handle on your heart and managing well enough this time. “There were a few months of just scrolling through job postings and writing cover letter after cover letter though.”
Jungkook laughs, another beautiful gesture that makes you mirror his smile. “I definitely feel that.”
“Well, what about you? What have you been up to?” You ask. “I think I saw on your Instagram and you were traveling around for a little?”
His eyes light up at that. “Oh yeah! I don’t know if you remember Kim Mingyu from school?” You do. “Well, he and a friend of his got into some freelancing and had to do some traveling around to work on some filming. He asked me to come along because I actually have some photography experience. So that was a thing I did for a few months.”
You nod, smiling. “No way! That’s so cool.”
You do relax after a few conversational exchanges with Jungkook. He’s just as relaxed and mellow, yet friendly and polite as ever, and it’s easy to make conversation with him as it always has been. Eventually, you join in on the larger conversations with the whole table—touching on topics from your university experiences to tales from your new job. A lot of your role, however, falls to listening. Jimin’s friends are rowdy, funny, and out-going. They invite you in like you have been in this group for years—and are able to provide context on older memories they are revisiting.
Most of your evening, however, is engaging in conversation with Jungkook. Occasionally, Jimin will join in, but he does spend most of his time laughing along to something his other friends are saying. Since you and Jungkook have always been friendly with each other, long conversations aren’t out of the ordinary. You just never considered how well you and Jungkook got along, how easy it would be to transition from topic to topic.
“I am really glad that Jimin invited you along,” Jungkook explains brightly after the pair of you are done laughing following Jungkook’s tale of another fuck-ups with Kim Mingyu. “Makes you realize how small the world is.”
“Oh, you should have seen her moping around earlier today,” Jimin interjects, choosing now of all times to insert himself back into your conversation with Jungkook. “She was sighing all afternoon—so maybe we should thank her misery that I decided to invite her along tonight.”
Jungkook turns to you, a sympathetic look across his face. “Did you have a bad day today?”
You try for a laugh, waving away Jimin’s words. “Jimin’s just overreacting. Actually, I found out a friend of mine from college is getting married, so I was trying to figure out my plan…” You start, trailing off as you look at Jungkook. “Wait, you didn’t know Irene, did you?”
“I did.” His eyes widen as his lips part in realization. “Oh my god, you were invited to Irene’s wedding too?”
“I was!” You exclaim, unsure whether you should be excited or even more nervous at the prospect of potentially seeing Jungkook at the wedding event. “Holy shit, this makes it an even smaller world. How did you know Irene?”
Jungkook is still mid-giggle at the pure coincidence of everything. “We both knew Mingyu! This is so crazy. Are you planning to go?”
You shrug. Jimin chooses to interject once more. “That’s what Y/N over here was sighing all afternoon over.”
You whine as you look at Jimin. “No need to sell me out! Listen, Jungkook.” You turn back to the boy opposite of you, who is still gazing at you. “I’m sure you understand my current predicament.”
“Sure.”
“You know how expensive flights can be.”
“Of course.”
You fold your arms over each other and rest them on the table. “So, are you planning to go to the wedding?”
He nods. “Most likely, yeah. I actually knew that the wedding was going to be happening soon, since Mingyu told me about it as soon as Irene got the ring. I ran into the flight problem pretty quickly too, so I decided to just drive to the event.”
Jimin whistles. “Drive across the country, huh, JK? That must be a four day trip, or something.”
“It was coming out to be,” Jungkook acknowledges with a nod. “But it’s okay.” He’s grinning, looking excited at the prospect. “I’ve never done a cross country drive before, so it was actually kind of exciting to plan the route. There are a few places I want to stop by and visit. I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Then, Jungkook turns back to you. “If you decide that flying would be too expensive, then you’re more than welcome to come along. It’ll be nice to have some company and not spend four days by myself.”
Entirely on instinct, you start to laugh. You think he’s joking—how could you not? This is probably one of the longest conversations you’ve ever had with Jungkook. Like you’ve mentioned before, you wouldn’t consider him a friend. Why would he seriously try to invite you on a road trip? “Yeah, I’m not too sure—I’ve never done a cross country trip before…”
The conversation shifts pretty quickly as soon as you reply back to Jungkook. Hoseok asks you a question that drags your attention away, simultaneously allowing you to forget about Jungkook’s request.
The end of the dinner happens soon after, when the bill has been paid and you suspect the long line of people outside waiting for a table are waiting for your party to be done. So venmo exchanges and money debts go around until each member of the table starts standing up one by one to make their move to exit the restaurant.
You and Jimin are one of the first to leave. Goodbyes are exchanged along with the polite ‘it was nice to meet you’ phrase thrown around. Jungkook is mid-conversation with Yoongi, but he still gives you a quick hug of parting before you and Jimin exit the restaurant.
The pair of you only make it out a few steps before there is a familiar voice calling your name. “Hey, Y/N! Y/N, wait up!” You stop and turn around, surprised to see Jungkook dashing out of the restaurant. He rests himself for a moment before he’s straightening back up to look at you.
You try for a smile. “Hey Jungkook, what’s up?”
He takes in a few more deep breaths to calm himself—either from the dashing he just did or to steel himself for the next question, you don’t know. “It’s about me inviting you to drive up to Irene’s wedding—I just thought I’d let you know it was a serious invitation. Having the company would be nice, and you wouldn’t be a burden to me, seriously. Besides, it’ll be fun to spend some time together.”
“O-Oh,” You stammer, wringing your hands together. “I’m not too sure… I still have to think about it.”
“Of course, of course,” Jungkook dismisses good naturedly. “Just thought I’d let you know, so you know that you do have options.”
Although the offer makes you nervous, you cannot dismiss Jungkook’s thoughtfulness. You give him a more relaxed smile. “I really appreciate that Jungkook, thank you.”
He smiles at your smile. “No problem! Actually…” He digs around for the wallet in his pocket and produces a little card. “Here’s my business card—my cell phone number is on here so just text or call if you decide to join me. Or,” He presses his lips into a more bashful smile. “You can just text me whenever for whatever reason. I just thought I’d let you know that it was good to see you again.”
You take the card slowly, unable to look away from Jungkook’s face. He looks so genuine and shy that it doesn’t help your own racing heart. “It was good to see you too, Jungkook…” You return, albeit a little breathlessly.
He smiles again, dimples pressing in his cheek (and your heart). He turns to Jimin “Oh yeah, nice seeing you too Park.”
“Hey.” Jimin hits him on the shoulder. “I’m your hyung, you should show me more respect!”
“My bad, my bad.” Jungkook doesn’t apologize though. His gaze flickers to yours one more time, gaze looking strangely hopeful. “I’ll see you guys around.” He walks backwards a few paces before turning around and returning to the restaurant. Maybe to see his other friends.
Either way, it doesn’t matter. You are still screaming internally regardless—as shown through your red cheeks, widened eyes, and singing heart. Jimin will certainly never let you live this moment down.
.
Now, you are screaming externally. You don’t even give a thought or an explanation. You simply walk into your apartment, nosedive for the couch, and start yelling into one of the throw pillows.
There’s a rapid movement of footsteps coming from down the hallway almost immediately, one that grows gradually louder until the owner of the steps starts speaking. “Who the fuck is out there? I’ve played softball my entire life and therefore will not hesitate to drive this bat so far up your ass—oh, Y/N.” The voice lowers significantly, as does the threat level it emits into the air. “It’s just you.”
You lift your face from the throw pillow, and immediately brush away at the hair that falls in your face. “What the fuck!” You croak, pushing yourself into a sitting position and pointing at the bat in Karly’s hands. “What are you doing threatening me with a bat? You’ve never played a game of softball in your life!”
“Oh, this isn’t mine. It’s Soonyoung’s.” Soonyoung is Karly’s boyfriend from high school, who used to play baseball on the high school team. How Karly has her boyfriend’s baseball bat is a mystery, but it’s something you think you are better off not asking about. She places the bat down on the carpet next to the coffee table. “But I should be asking you the questions, you bitch! You scared the shit out of me!”
You sigh, throwing your head to rest on the back of the couch. “Sorry, sorry. Had a crazy day.”
Karly ponders this as she moves to take a seat next to you. “You seemed fine when you texted me about you getting drinks with Jimin. Did something happen during the dinner?”
You straighten up again and grip Karly by the arm. “Okay, don’t scream.”
“You mean like you did?” Karly retorts dryly.
You shake her. “I’m serious!” When Karly doesn’t say anything, you take it as a sign to continue with your story. “I saw Jungkook.”
Karly blinks, then grabs your arm right back. “Wait, Jeon Jungkook, as in the guy you’ve been crushing on since second year?”
“Yes!” You whine, throwing yourself onto the couch all over again.
“The one you had to work together on a project with and nearly cried even though you guys just had to submit a paper?”
“Yes!”
“The one who said hi to you in the library that one time and you tried to put your elbow on the table afterwards but you missed and hit your head instead?”
You pause, scowling. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. Are you done?”
Karly is laughing. “Oh my god. What are the chances of you seeing him now?”
“There’s more,” You groan out.
“Really? Honestly that yell could have been just for seeing him again and that would have made sense—!”
You ignore her. “He’s friends with Jimin. He’s friends with Irene, too. He was invited to her wedding.”
“Wait, Jimin is friends with Irene or Jungkook is friends with Irene—?”
“He won’t pay for the flight though. It’s too expensive. I can attest to that.”
Karly holds a finger up, trying to connect the dots. “When did you look up flight prices—?”
“So he invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.”
Karly frowns.
You sigh. “Jungkook invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.”
“Oh! Oh!” Karly’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, that’s huge. Are you gonna go?”
“I don’t know!” You whine. “Jungkook mentioned it would be a four day drive to get there. I don’t know if I can survive four days in a car with him! We’ve never been that close, what if it gets awkward?”
Karly ponders this. “I really don’t think it’s in Jungkook’s nature to be awkward with someone—especially someone he’s had a history with.” She sees the look of disbelief you give her. “Well, even if that history was really limited. What makes you think it’ll be awkward? Was it awful seeing him tonight?”
“No!” You cry, straightening into a sitting position so your legs drape over the side of the couch. You force yourself to calm down. “It… it was pretty good actually.”
Karly raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Really now.”
“Yeah…” You reply, trailing off. “We sat across from each other during the dinner and we talked most of the night, surprisingly. I guess because we were sort of acquaintances we’ve always known about each other, so it wasn’t like we didn’t know how to ask questions to each other. And Jungkook… he’s easy to talk to as he’s always been and he’s so nice and positive and he has a dimple on his cheek when he smiles…” You finish slowly, noticing your racing heart that has come up as a result of this conversation and of your memory. You realize the predicament you’re in, further emphasized by Karly’s growing grin. You groan. “Shut up.”
Karly looks like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t say anything.”
You grab onto one of the throw pillows and properly hit her in the face. “You’re saying many things right now, you bitch!”
Karly takes the pillow from you and proceeds to whack you in the shoulder. “Not outloud!”
“So you admit it!” You accuse, pointing at her.
Karly yells. “Just admit you still have a crush on him!”
Your groan turns into a cry. “Don’t say it outloud! Now I have to deal with it!”
Your roommate sighs. “Bitch, I can tell you exactly how to deal with this. You’re gonna go on this road trip with Jungkook and see if you guys vibe—you honestly will not find a better way to discover your compatibility with him. If it works out, then you get more than a plus one to the wedding. If it doesn’t work out, just skip the wedding and take the first flight back home. Cut off your friendship with Jimin while you’re at it—it’s the only way to ensure you’ll never have to run into Jungkook again.”
You pout. “That seems a little dramatic.”
Karly thinks for a second, then she nudges you. “Remind me again about that quote your high school English teacher used to always parade around.”
You stare at her for a moment, because you know exactly what point she’s trying to make. Still, you decide to humor her. And yourself. “‘You’ll never know if you’ll sink, swim, or float, until you’re willing to take the plunge’.” You level Karly with another gaze. Your friend has a point. You missed any chance to hang out with Jungkook during your college years—partly because your friend groups never intersected, but mostly because of your internalized fear of fucking up. But now that you are just a little older and just a little more versed in the art of conversing and befriending—maybe Karly is right. Maybe this is your chance to see if a different set of timing could make a difference.
So you sigh.
“I guess I should text Jungkook, huh.”
Karly pats you on the shoulder. “Take the plunge, my dude.”
.
You do take the plunge. You take Jungkook’s business card out from the pocket of your dress and dial the number. He expresses excitement—and also relief.
These things lead up to the current moment. Eight o’clock in the morning: you lingering in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, your suitcase by the door, and a roommate keeping you company.
You don’t realize how nervous you are until you get a text from Jungkook.
Jungkook (8:03am): i’m here! u can buzz me up so i can help u with your stuff :)
You (8:03am): it’s ok jungkook it’s just a suitcase. i’ll be down in a second!
You pocket your phone, and Karly can read the expression across your face before you realize what is going on. She straightens up. “He’s here?”
“Yeah.” You rinse your coffee cup and make your way towards the door. “Did you want to come down with me?”
Karly stops and gives you a look. “I thought that was already implied.”
“Well, thanks, that’s really nice—!”
“Someone has to give you an embarrassing goodbye.”
“There it is.” You sigh. You don’t say anything as you and Karly exit the apartment and make your way down the hall into the elevator. It only takes a few seconds for the elevator to lower down to the ground floor, where you and Karly exit and make your way to the front of the apartment complex.
You swear your heart beats just a little faster as soon as you see Jungkook near the front entrance of the building. He’s wearing a pair of black jackets with an oversized denim jacket and currently looking down at his phone—overall appearing so tall and pretty and otherworldly. For a brief second, you are taken by the fact that for the next four days, he’ll be yours.
Jungkook looks up as soon as he hears the door opening and he smiles. “Hey you.”
You smile, albeit a little lopsided and dreamy. “Hi.”
Jungkook walks towards you immediately. “Here, let me help you with that.” He reaches a hand out and gently takes the handle of your suitcase before you can say anything. Just as he’s taking the suitcase from you, Karly emerges from the building. “Oh, sorry about that.”
Karly waves him off. “Don’t be. I’m Y/N’s roommate—I’m just here to see her off.”
Jungkook stares at her for a moment, then he snaps his fingers. “Wait, I remember you. You went to college with us too.” He jerks his chin towards you. “You hung out with Y/N a lot, right?”
“Yeah, I’m Karly.” She holds out her hand for Jungkook to shake. “And you’re right, she and I hung out a lot. We were roommates back then too.”
Jungkook nods in understanding, before shoving his hand into his pocket. His other hand is still holding onto your suitcase. “Well, I promise to take good care of Y/N.”
Karly smacks her teeth against the side of her mouth as she points at him. “You’re a good man, Jungkook.” She pauses for a moment, seeming to contemplate a new thought. You recognize the look immediately, and your fingers twitch as if you want to strangle her. Or at least let her know you’re throwing her a look of murderous intent. But of course, Karly doesn’t see it. And even if she had, you doubt she’d care. “But no funny business, alright.”
You gape at her. “Karly!”
Jungkook coughs at that. “I-It’s just a drive—y-you don’t need to worry about that.” He does, however, turn away to hide the red that dusts his cheeks.
As soon as Jungkook’s back is facing you, you whirl around to shoot Karly with a glare. “Karly, you’re lucky I’m leaving for the next four days or I would not hesitate to figure out how to make stuffocation look like an accident!” You hiss out between teeth without taking a breath.
Karly glares right back. “You’re really dumb, aren’t you? The fact that he recognizes me because he saw you hanging out with me on campus doesn’t strike any chords? Even though, like you said, you guys weren’t really friends?”
You blink. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Karly widens her eyes. “What the fuck do you mean? Are you dumb with all the boys or just Jungkook?”
“What do you mean!” You snap back.
“So, Y/N, ready to go?”
You whirl back around to find Jungkook now standing in front of you and Karly. He must have finished packing your suitcase in the trunk of his car and is now looking over at you with a tilt in his head.
So you force a smile. “Of course,” You say, turning to Karly. “I was just saying bye to my roommate.”
He nods in understanding, sparing one more glance at Karly before seeming to decide against it because he looks away. He’s still a little red at Karly’s previous comment. “We should get going then.”
“Sure.” You look over at your roommate. “See you, bitch.”
Karly waves back, grinning wildly. You just know she has several other thoughts she’d like to share with you, but has probably deemed you embarrassed enough. Lucky for you, she keeps her mouth shut.
Unlucky for you, without Karly to be a barrier of distraction, this leaves you alone with Jungkook. You slide into the passenger seat of his car, still not yet processing the weight of what you’ve just agreed to. You fiddle alone for a second before Jungkook is opening the driver’s side and shifting into his seat.
There is a silence as Jungkook is starting the car, and a part of you wants to die. Or at least have the ground swallow you whole. Holy fuck, what did you just sign up for?
Your mind somehow takes five seconds to turn into complete shambles that you almost miss Jungkook’s question.
“Here, I’m giving you an important mission,” Jungkook says, rummaging through the various chords that lay over the center console before producing an aux cord. “Should you choose to accept.”
He’s got on such a serious expression you momentarily forget about your anxiety. His usage of the iconic line from Mission Impossible makes you laugh—a breathy sort of noise that escapes when your mind is too full. You still take the aux cord. “Oh my god—ever heard of bluetooth?”
He pouts. “It hasn’t even been five minutes and you’re already insulting my beautiful Celia!”
You raise both your eyebrows. “Celia?”
“Yeah, that’s the name of my car.” He catches the bewildered look you give him before angling himself back to face the steering wheel, where he shifts his console into drive and makes a turn onto the main street. “If you’re already weirded out by the fact I have a name for my baby, then you’re in for a very long four days, Miss. Y/N.”
You giggle, feeling that distraction of nerves start to come off your shoulders. “Not weird at all.” You pause. “Ryan is the name of my car.”
“Ah!” He holds one arm out in a grand gesture. “You see, not so strange after all.” He steals a glance at you, watching as you’re about to connect your phone to the aux cord. “Wait!” He says, pointing a finger at you.
You look up at him, wide eyes.
He’s still holding an arm up. “How’s your music taste?”
You’re still giving him your surprised expression. “You scared me!”
He laughs, returning his hand back to the steering wheel. “Sorry, sorry. I have to ask though—I’d rather know now than later, so I can kick you out and not feel as bad about it.”
Your laughter seems to melt away the last of your nervous energy. “Nice to know you’re putting all your cards out now.” You look down at your phone. “Regarding my music taste… it’s whatever you want dude! I have some lo-fi on here, some pop, alternative, Broadway, anime openings… an ‘everything’ playlist. Honestly, the world is your oyster.”
“How about we start with your ‘everything’ playlist,” Jungkook suggests. “That way I can judge you immediately.”
“Were you always this charming, Jeon Jungkook?” You retort. “Or has graduation changed you?”
“Oh, I’ve always been this charming—you just never noticed.”
That comment, however, goes over your head as you focus down on your playlist. You look over, selecting the shuffle option as Taylor Swift’s soft music from her newest album fills the air. Another silence fills the car, but it’s much more peaceful and comfortable. You allow yourself to settle further into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car.
“So,” You start after a moment. Jungkook hums to let you know he’s paying attention. “What inspired the name Celia?”
Jungkook brightens at the question. “She was this character from a book I read when I was younger. The Night Circus? Anyways, the book is about these two illusionists who try to one up each other with their skills of magic, but they end up falling in love. Celia is the name of one of those illusionists.”
You grin. “Sounds like a very cute crush.”
Jungkook grins back.
The drive out of the city continues like this. The pair of you cover the topic of books, of music, of your favorite animes. Jungkook just has this magical power of ensuring the tension dissipates from your mind and stays gone—whether it’s through his relaxed nature or easy-going teasing or his ability to ease the conversation from one topic to the next. It feels like every conversation you and Jungkook had in college, whether vague or circling around classes, all have led up to this moment. It seems like everytime you or Jungkook run out of things to talk about pertaining to a certain topic, you would bring up memories from college and just continue from there. Everything feels natural.
It continues to feel natural even as you and Jungkook slowly start to see the edges of the city landscape fade away. The high rises fade into shorter buildings and smaller business areas that surround the bustling city scene. You watch as those buildings and business areas become rows of houses. Residential areas in the suburbs, passing by the occasional school or corner restaurants.
“Before we enter the wide unknown,” Jungkook starts up, breaking the quiet that has enveloped the car. “You want to pick up lunch? You hungry?”
You haven’t even realized how much time has gone by until you look at the clock on Jungkook’s dashboard and notice that it’s past noon. You widen your eyes at the sight. “Wow, I didn’t even realize so much time had passed.”
“Yeah, we drove through a few cities. Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?”
“You wish,” You tease, sticking your tongue out. “So, what, do we stop at a Cheesecake factory or something?”
Jungkook blinks. “I thought you were poor—why would we stop at the Cheesecake factory? And why is that the first restaurant that comes to your mind?”
You wave your hands. “It was just a suggestion!”
“Well, I’m realizing that I should probably let you know that the motel I picked for us to drive to tonight is pretty far out—Google Maps says we probably won’t get there until midnight, and that’s with us driving straight through.”
“Midnight? Fuck, Jungkook. Will we make it to the wedding a day early or something?”
“Ha, ha, no. I’ll go over the schedule I planned out tomorrow. Basically, I want to try and cover most of our ground on the first day so we can take the rest of the trip easy. But I thought I’d let you know now that sitting in a restaurant probably won’t be the most time responsible idea.”
“That’s true.” You look out the window again and see the golden arches of McDonalds appear within your line of sight. “Let’s just stop at McDonalds.”
Jungkook follows your gaze. “Alright, down. Let’s do it.”
He exits off the freeway, following down a route that takes him almost immediately towards the McDonalds parking lot. Since this restaurant is still within the lines of the city, it’s not completely deserted. There are a few cars in the parking lot, even fewer cars in the drive-through line. Because of this, ordering the food only takes a few minutes. Both of you get chicken nuggets, sodas, and large orders of french fries.
“You know, we’re really living like kings,” You comment as Jungkook drives out and makes his way back onto the freeway. “College graduates, both somehow able to secure a job, and still ordering chicken mcnuggets.”
Jungkook shrugs. “I wasn’t told this is what adulthood would be like. But I’m not complaining. My 10-year-old self is singing in so much joy right now.” He says this as he’s stuffing a handful of fries into your mouth. You laugh, and hand him a napkin.
You turn the music back on. The pair of you silently munch on your chicken nuggets, as you angle your head towards the side window once again. As Jungkook drives, the numbers of structural spaces become more scattered the longer you both continue down the freeway.
The anime opening to Haikyuu starts playing when you turn back to Jungkook and realize that he’s trying to close the box of his chicken nuggets. You move right away, taking the cardboard from him and closing it yourself. “Let me know if you need anything, Jungkook. Think of me as your co-pilot.”
He laughs gently. “Is that the rule of the passenger seat?”
You shrug, putting the empty box into the McDonalds bag near your feet. “For me at least. Everytime I do one of these drives with family, the person in the passenger seat has to open the snacks, make conversation, and always stay awake with the driver. It’s just courtesy.”
Jungkook is smiling softly now, mostly to himself, but it lights the corners of his eyes that makes you momentarily unable to look away. “You wanna tell me about your family?”
So you do. Your voice becomes softer as you continue, but Jungkook listens to every single word you say.
True to his observation, it’s not long before the pair of you are surrounded by the wide unknown. Houses in the suburbs become farmhouses and farms. Conversations fade from your family to another comfortable silence as you continue gazing out the window. Jungkook requests your lo-fi playlist at some point, filling the car with the soft and distorted hums. It allows your mind to wander as you stare out the window. The empty stretches of land around you are filled with greenery, with mountains, cutting right through the perfect blue of the sky above you.
By 4:00PM, your entire body is starting to feel the ache of having been seated for long hours on end. You feel the tightness in the muscles of your thigh, the bones in your knees.
Jungkook must be feeling the same, because as soon as a sign for a rest stop comes on, he exits the freeway and pulls into a large parking lot. There’s a restroom on the side, but the area is surrounded by trees with mountains standing in the background.
Jungkook stops the car. “We should get out for a bit to move our legs.”
You’re already tugging on the latch that’ll open the car door. “I’m already feeling it in my knees.” You open the door and immediately extend your legs out onto the solid ground beneath you. You let out a sigh of satisfaction, and Jungkook laughs from next to you.
He’s opening his own car door soon after, but he straightens up into a standing position pretty quickly and stretches upwards. He closes the car door behind him, watching as you eventually pull yourself together to do the same.
You turn to face Jungkook. “I’m gonna use the restroom.” You gesture towards the building and earn a nod from Jungkook, who mentions something about doing the same thing. You meet back at the car a few minutes later.
Jungkook gestures to the trees surrounding the parking lot. “Want to take a walk around the area? Keep the blood flowing to our legs.”
You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.”
“Why don’t you get started. I’ll catch up.” Jungkook watches you leave, before opening the trunk of his car and rummaging around.
He does catch up with you, quickly enough that you hardly notice that he had sent you out first. You hear his footsteps, and the call of your name. You turn around. “Jungkook!”
The sight before you makes you waver slightly, as bouts of shyness overtake you. Standing before you is Jungkook, with his camera in hand. The lens is pointed right at you. As soon as you’re staring straight into the camera, Jungkook grins. “Say hi!”
You whine, whirling back around and covering your face. “Are you filming me right now?”
“I’m a photographer at heart, what did you expect?” Jungkook teases back. “Besides, it’s really pretty around here. You think I won’t film it?”
You snort, starting your walk around the parking lot. “Oh yeah, because there aren’t any parking lots and trees and bathroom stops at home.”
Jungkook is quiet for a second. “That’s not what I meant.”
You turn to stare right into the lens of his camera. “Then the mountains, right?”
He’s quiet for another second. “Sure.” He does, however, sound a little disappointed. You do not notice this.
The pair of you stay quiet as you make your round around the parking lot, taking in the mountains from different angles. The walk around is mostly just to rid of the sensation of your legs falling off, but it’s still a nice view to admire. As soon as you finish a complete round, you and Jungkook return back to the car. You watch as he carefully places his camera into his camera bag before you’re both back in your seats.
Jungkook turns to you. “Ready to get going again?” He looks at the control panel behind his steering wheel. “We’ll probably have to stop for gas in a few hours. But after that, it’s straight to the hotel.”
You settle back into the passenger seat. “I guess we already have our dinner plans then.” You’re referring to the gas station.
Jungkook grins. “I’m down for that.”
And so, the trip continues back on the freeway. With the lo-fi playing in the background, you watch as the sun tears through the blue sky, as the sun finally begins it’s dip to the other side. The singular color once spread across the pane of atmosphere now conjugates around the sun crawling behind the mountain—creating a diffusion of new colors. The corner of the mountain emits an explosion of oranges, pinks, and purples.
You lift your head from the window, eyes taking in the rainbow of pastels around the now fading sun. “Wow, Jungkook, look at that sunset.”
He snorts. “You wanna talk about things that you can’t see back in the city?”
You pout. “But it looks so pretty, see!” You keep gesturing towards the sunset.
Jungkook relents just enough to spare a glance in the direction. He hums. “Yeah, it’s pretty.” He looks back at the road. “Can’t really find a view like that in the city.”
You spend a little more time admiring the sunset than Jungkook does, for obvious reasons. You’ve seen a sunset plenty of times before in the past, but the context of this whole situation makes you unable to look away from it. You’re really out here, stuck in a car with someone you have never hung out with for longer than a few minutes. But you are enjoying yourself. There's peace in that.
So you watch until the sun dips below the mountain, momentarily leaving the sky in a navy color.
The next time Jungkook speaks, the area around you is much darker, and the sky is nearly black. “You hungry now?”
You lift your head from the seat, not even realizing you were drifting off. You’re thinking about Irene, wondering if you should have texted her directly congratulating her on the wedding rather than just simply sending in the RSVP. “Sure. We eat as the car eats, right?”
Jungkook smiles, a gesture you can barely make out from the headlines. “Of course.”
This goes on for a few more miles until the sign for a gas station comes up. A few other cars linger near the dispensers. Jungkook parks near his choice and gets out of the car. You follow behind him. He’s already sliding his credit card into the machine, and the sight makes you reach over to grab his wrist.
“I should pay, you’ve been driving all day!”
He shakes his head, waving you off. “We’ll take turns, okay?” He looks at you. “Buy me dinner tonight too, that sound fair?”
You pout, leaning back as you cross your arms. “Not really, but I guess I’ll have to accept it.”
He grins. “You are correct.”
As soon as the gas pump alerts you of the filled tank, Jungkook returns the pump back to the machine and locks his car. Together, the two of you make your way towards the convenience store, where the bell above rings to alert the workers of your presence. Nods are exchanged as you and Jungkook tear through the aisles to find anything that could satisfy your cravings. You return back with family size bags of hot cheetos and beef jerky, while Jungkook holds his selection of roasted seaweed and Doritos. You select your drinks together before returning to the cashier.
It’s nearing 9:00PM as you and Jungkook return back to his car, where you slide back into your seats and immediately tear into your bags of salt and sodium.
“How are you doing?” You ask as Jungkook finishes his first bag of roasted seaweed.
Jungkook pulls out his phone, scrolling through the final stretch needed to reach the hotel. “Yeah, about four more hours to the motel.” He looks over at you. “I’m good. The salt in this seaweed really helps. How are you doing?”
You nod immediately. “Great. Perfect.”
He smiles, shifting his console to drive and pulling out of the gas station. “I’m used to these weird hours. Remember how I told you I traveled around a bit with Mingyu and Wonwoo? There was this one day we only slept for an hour or something? It sucked, I think I almost passed out that day. But yeah, this is honestly not even that bad.” He turns to look at you. “I think the good company helps, too.”
You roll your eyes, grinning. “You flatter me, Jeon.”
Slowly, 8PM turns into 10PM. One glance at Google maps tells you that you’re still two hours from the hotel. Even though you’re not the one driving, and although you haven’t endured any physical activity that could result in this exhaustion, you still find yourself growing tired. Something about sitting under the sun, sitting in a vehicle that rocks side to side with a consistent hum—it makes your mind work slowly and therefore brings out the sleepiness quicker.
You settle deeper into your seat.
Jungkook giggles from next to you. “You tired already?”
You pout slowly, eyes closed just enough. “I’m not a morning person and you made me wake up at 8!”
“Sure, sure, of course.”
There’s a pause.
You ponder a question for a moment. It’s something that you would never dare ask Jungkook if you had been more awake and more alert. But you’re tired, and your defenses are lowered, and it means you are more prone to asking questions. “Hey, Jungkook? Did you have any girlfriends when we were in college?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. “Where’s this coming from?” He asks instead.
You shrug, making a dismissive noise as your shoulders rise up. “Curiosity.”
A pause. “I went on a few dates, but I never had a serious relationship.”
“No way.” You lift your head up from the seat. “But I remember seeing you hang out with the occasional girl in the quad, or at some restaurants around the school.”
Jungkook smiles. It’s hard to read the look in his eyes. They’re focused on the road in front of him, but they seem almost hazy and faraway. “Like I said, I went on a few dates. I did really want to get into a long term relationship in college. A lot of my friends had them, that’s where my parents met, so I was really open to the idea of at least experimenting. There were a lot of girls that I thought were nice, easy-going, or just really pretty, so I tried my hand in the whole dating thing.”
“And it didn’t work out?” You coax out gently.
“Not really,” He continues. He steals a glance at you. “We’d go on a few dates, but none of them ever felt substantial. I think girls see me and have a certain expectation—an expectation I couldn’t meet. So I never could picture myself in a long term relationship with any of them.”
You tilt your head towards him. “There must have been someone…”
“Well… there was one girl.” Jungkook starts after a moment. He’s not looking at you this time. “We had a few classes together earlier—we weren’t in the same major program. I don’t even know if I’d say we were close or anything. We just had a few classes and saw each other around on occasion. But the conversations we did have during class or outside of class just felt more real. Honestly, I could have been totally wrong about her. I could have just been blinded by all these expectations I was putting on her, which is ironic. But she was the only person I could actually see myself being in a long term relationship with. Or at least try.”
You hum, still facing towards him in your seat. “Why didn’t you try anything then? You’re a good guy, Jungkook. I’m sure she would have wanted to try with you too.”
“I guess I was just afraid of pushing it and scaring her off. I thought it was better to stay friends with her than try to pursue something. She never gave me an indication that she felt the same.”
“And how do you feel now?”
There’s a pause this time. “I don’t know honestly. We remained friends up until graduation but, uh, never saw her again. I do wonder from time to time how she’s doing.”
“You should reach out to her,” You advise softly. “Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird.” You grin at him. “You need to make your move.”
It is then that Jungkook turns to look at you. He looks for a little longer this time, eyes focused entirely on you. Underneath the small crescent of the moon above, you are still able to make out his facial features. His cheeks, his nose, his eyes—the latter is glimmering, like he knows something that you don’t.
“I’m working on that,” He mumbles softly. You turn your head back towards the road.
.
You wake up the next morning feeling groggy, dirty, and messy. Your head lifts up from a pillow you can only vaguely remember falling on, laying on top of a bed you only vaguely remember throwing yourself in. There’s sunlight pouring into the room, but it feels like early morning sun. There’s a crisp in the air that you can feel, that you see out of the window. Right outside is the gathering of bushes and trees, a bright blue sky.
You are in the motel.
Slowly, you push yourself into a sitting position, until you’re resting atop the white linen of your bed. Across the room, snuggled in his own twin bed, is Jungkook. His lashes are fanning across his cheekbones, his lips are parted, and his breathing is slow and soft.
It isn’t until Jungkook shifts in bed that you realize you’ve been watching him like a creep. Hastily, you tear your gaze away and decide to focus your gaze down. You notice immediately that you are not underneath the blankets. Instead, you are lying underneath Jungkook’s jacket.
You roll the jacket off your frame, discovering that you are still in last night’s clothes—which explains why you were feeling so groggy and discombobulated. You look across the floor of the hotel room. Your suitcase is near the foot of your bed, and your phone sits on your nightstand connected to your charger.
Vaguely, you recall what had happened the previous night—how Jungkook drove into the hotel room nearing midnight and the exhaustion was so overpowering that you and Jungkook blindly asked for any room with two twin beds before following through and practically collapsing into your respected beds.
You definitely did that, which explains why you were on top of the bed, why you’re still in yesterday’s clothes, and why Jungkook’s jacket was your blanket. Stealing another glance at Jungkook: underneath the blankets and in a different t-shirt—you can assume that he was able to take a shower before lying down.
With a sigh, you push off Jungkook’s jacket and lay it down on the bed next to you. Hoping not to disturb Jungkook, you slide out of bed and lower your suitcase to the ground. After fishing out a new set of clothes, you decide to take a shower.
The warmth from the shower is the best breath of fresh air you’ve gotten since hitting the road with Jungkook. It feels like your body is going through a battery recharge, and it’s one you take your time with. You step out of the shower, running the towel through your hair and drying yourself enough to slip on your outfit for the day. The towel is thrown around your neck as you step out of the shower, letting the steam follow you out of the bathroom.
Jungkook is still sleeping as you step out, which is good otherwise you’d feel bad for having disturbed his sleep time. After all the driving he did yesterday, you figure he deserves a few extra hours regardless of what the schedule calls for.
You continue running the towel through your hair as you pick up your phone. Strangely, you do not remember connecting it to a charger before knocking out, but you pick it up regardless to see the 9:00AM time across your screen.
There’s a quiet that takes over, in which you’re sitting perched comfortably on your bed and scrolling through your phone as Jungkook continues to drift a few feet away from you.
About thirty minutes seem to pass before Jungkook is moaning softly to himself, letting out a puff of air as he slowly opens his eyes. His arms extend above him, knocking into the headboard and making him curse softly to himself. His eyes open as he lowers his hands to inspect the damage before immediately looking over towards you.
He blinks, a tired smile overtaking his lips as he arches his back into a stretch. “Hey,” He greets, voice rough and scratchy and making your heart clench. Damn thing. “You’re awake. You knocked out pretty quickly as soon as we got the room.”
You laugh. “Yeah, I honestly figured that.” You pick up his jacket, as if he hadn’t been the one to lay it on you those hours ago. “Thanks for trying to help me get comfortable.” You gesture towards the nightstand. “Did you find my charger too?”
Jungkook sits up as he continues a small round of stretches and yawns. “I did,” He says. “You were barely coherent, but made enough sense to tell me where it was in your bag. Sorry for going through it, by the way.”
You shake your head, waving him off. “No worries. Thank you again, Jungkook.”
The pair of you stare at each other for a few moments, before that silence is broken by Jungkook’s phone going off. You look down as Jungkook snatches his own phone off the nightstand. He scrolls through something, before placing it back.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” You ask, bringing your fingers through your hair to comb and give you a distraction.
“Oh! Right.” Jungkook swings his legs off the side of the bed. “We have a slower day today. The hotel I picked is only about five hours away? We’re driving through the mountains today, so there’s this place I want to visit that has a little restaurant and everything. It’ll be a cute pit stop.”
You nod. “Awesome, okay.” You curl your fingers around the strands of now loose strands of hair.
It takes another hour until you and Jungkook are packed up again and ready to leave. A quick stop to the lobby provides both of you with a bagel and cup of coffee each as your breakfast. All before you’re once again sliding into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car.
You roll your shoulders before clicking your seatbelt in. “Ready for another long day?”
“Of course.” He digs through his center console, producing his aux cord. “Your mission,” He says dramatically, not unlike yesterday. “Should you choose to accept.”
You laugh gently, taking the cord. “You in love with Mission Impossible or something? This is the second time in two days you’re quoting it to me.”
And this is how your day starts off—talks of Mission Impossible films that bleed into conversations about movies.
The day at 10 o’clock in the morning is bright and blue as Jungkook drives back onto the freeway and continues down the road. The first few hours consist of the surrounding flatland, of green grass and high mountains all around. Conversations between you and Jungkook are a little more scattered today, but there’s a new level of comfort about the situation. With both of you well rested, it invites a more relaxed atmosphere as you pass the occasional joke or story time between the pair of you.
As the sun continues to travel higher in the sky, Jungkook’s car starts it’s approach up the mountain. The trees start enveloping the pair of you into a newer, higher world. Not only that, but whenever you and Jungkook reach a clearing, it exposes a dip of lakes, grass, and mountains. And you, always having enjoyed the views of nature, keep an open eye for every single thing.
You see Jungkook’s choice of destination before he does, and you gasp excitedly.
Up ahead is a cloud of pink, white, and red flowers covering an entire mountain side. There is an occasional pop of cedar trees amongst the covering of pink, white, and red, but the colors are so poignant that it captures your attention immediately.
You point to it. “Is that where we’re going?”
Jungkook grins. “Surprise!” He’s selected this spot before offering the invitation to let you come along, but you’re not complaining. You’ve never been to a flower farm before, despite having heard about them and seen pictures of them for most of your childhood. You continue to watch with wide eyes and bright smiles as Jungkook drives closer and closer to the destination, finally parking in the appropriate lot after paying the fee.
You’re practically vibrating in your seat with excitement. “Jungkook, Jungkook, c’mon let’s go, let’s go!” You push on the latch and nearly tumble out onto the ground. You straighten to stand on your feet, before meeting Jungkook near the trunk of his car. Surprise, surprise, he pulls out his camera and loops the strap over his head.
He’s grinning as he closes the trunk. “You’re a little excited, aren’t you?”
“A little?” You echo, clapping your hands, seemingly unable to wipe the grin off your face. “Jungkook, this is a flower farm! It’s so exciting!”
So you dart off with Jungkook following closely behind you. The parking lot is located at the top of the flower farm, so the tour around the fields is a downwards one towards the bottom. A small pathway maps out a route for you to follow as you take in the various lines of flowers and colors. One short glimpse at the brochure tells you that these are spring flowers, and that you and Jungkook are visiting during the perfect season. You and Jungkook continue through your makeshift tour in silence, taking in the flowers as well as the view that extends out far beyond your line of sight while Jungkook snaps photographs behind you. Words don’t need to be said when everything around you says it all.
At the bottom of the field is a cafe, a small brick building with an outdoor seating area facing the now upward flower display. You and Jungkook order sandwiches and soda, and take your seats outside as you wait for your number to be called. There are a fair amount of people today at the field, most of which you can see ahead roaming through the flowers ahead.
“Have you ever been to a flower farm before?” Jungkook asks, as he glances over at you to see how bright your expression is.
You smile as you turn to him. “No, never. But thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful here.”
Jungkook smiles, looking a little smug. He looks proud of himself. “I’ve always wanted to come here, so I’m glad I was able to bring you along.” It looks like he wants to say more, but the number that rests between Jungkook’s fingers is called out, interrupting the conversation. He returns a moment later with the food. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” He says, taking the sandwich plate off the tray and placing it in front of you.
You take the napkins that are being offered to you. “What’s up?”
He settles down into his seat. “I didn’t get to return the question that you asked me last night.”
It takes you a second to realize what he’s referring to. Immediately, you feel yourself turn red as you press your lips together. You were definitely drowsy last night, and hadn’t put too much consideration in the aftermath of asking Jungkook about his college relationships. You instead try for a laugh, as you wave him off. “Well, you don’t need to ask me. It’s pretty boring.”
“Nonsense,” Jungkook brushes off, taking another bite of his sandwich. “So tell me, did you get into any relationships in college?”
You laugh, albeit a little nervously. “No, not really. I never even went on any dates before—I guess, like you, I just couldn’t see myself in any long term relationship with anyone that seemed to like me.”
“Well, how about crushes on your end? Did you like anyone?”
You gaze over at Jungkook—taking in his wide curious eyes, his soft voice, his contagious laugh. The memories of him waving at you in class, of him catching up to you afterwards to continue previous conversations, of him going out of his way to say hi to you in the library. Jungkook has always been thoughtful, considerate, and soft along the edges. How could you not have crushed on him during college?
And how could you not continue to have these lingering feelings for him afterwards?
You think about your own advice you had given to Jungkook. You should reach out to her. Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird. You need to make your move. Could you even follow your own advice?
You look down before Jungkook could start asking questions about your staring. “There was this one guy,” You start, trying for an uneasy laugh. “But I don’t think he ever noticed me. Well, that’s a lie. I guess we were kind of friends? I think it’s more along the lines of me being out of his league.”
“That’s depressing,” Jungkook notes as he finishes his sandwich. You hardly even noticed him inhaling the thing. “How could you be out of a guy’s league? You’re so smart and funny and easy to talk to—if anything, a guy would probably be out of your league.” He leans forward, bringing you close enough where you can clearly make out the mole underneath his lip. “Tell me about this punk. So I can tell you he’s not good enough for you.”
You laugh, keeping your gaze on him. You doubt he’d be so confident had he known about ‘this punk’. “He isn’t a punk,” You remark quietly. “He’s really nice, and really sweet. I was pretty quiet in college. Definitely introverted and kept to myself and had a hard time making friends. Although I would have honestly barely considered him a friend, he just made me feel like my time was meaningful and my attention was valuable to him.” Jungkook’s eyes continue to bore into yours. “If anything, I just wish he knew how much I admire him.”
Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering across your face, once again displaying that unreadable expression. Yet, despite that, something glimmers in his eyes and he seems to come to an understanding you yourself don’t know about. That glimmer keeps swimming across the orbs, even as he switches his gaze between your eyes. They flicker down to your lips for a second, and your heart stutters in your chest.
Jungkook coughs, pulling away from you as he seems to hyper-focus his attention on the soda still in front of him. He looks shy as he steals another glance at you from across the table. “He might not have made you feel that important if you were too scared to tell him how you felt.”
You look down at your sandwich and take another bite. Something about the way he’s staring holes into the side of your face tells you that he knows something that you don’t. You wonder what he’s thinking.
Jungkook wears that thoughtful expression for the rest of the visit to the flower field, as the pair of you return back to his car and slide back in your seats. He stays quiet as you resume the trip, slowly making your way back onto the freeway and towards your second motel.
This kind of quiet is different than the previous silences the pair of you have grown to share over the past twenty-four hours. Unlike the comfortable moments of unspoken words, this is more tense. Like he knows something that you don’t.
You don’t know what to say, or how to break that silence. You don’t know if perhaps you said something you shouldn’t have, or said something to make him uncomfortable. All of those thoughts are not pleasant ones.
Jungkook stays quiet for most of the drive through the mountain. The music you have selected is loud enough that seems to drown the tense atmosphere, but the questions still press themselves deeply into your mind. What is he thinking about?
And worse of all: did he know you were talking about him?
You and Jungkook only speak a handful of times during the trip. He asks you if you need to use the restroom, if you’re hungry, and if you could play him your favorite anime openings. The pair of you have a handful of laughs about your mutual love for Haikyuu and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, but most of the drive to the motel is ridden out in silence.
The pair of you reach the hotel around dinnertime, definitely nowhere as exhausted as you had been the previous night, but just as eager to finally reach your destination. The tension between you and Jungkook has eased slightly, so you can only assume that perhaps he has overcome whatever was bothering him. You yourself have pushed the thought of Jungkook knowing the truth out of your mind. After all, if he had known, you assume he would have brought it up. Or at least called for an Uber to send you home. You assume you would have provided some sort of reaction for the two of you to talk about. But alas, those thoughts follow a conversation that has not happened, and will probably never happen, because you’re sure that you’ll never have to be in a situation that forces your feelings to go out of control once again—!
“Hi,” Jungkook returns to the hotel clerk behind the desk, a girl to be about your age, who is flickering her gaze between you and Jungkook. A flicker in her eyes tells you that she already has multiple thoughts and assumptions about your relationship. “Do you have a room with two beds?”
“Oh!” The girl blinks, momentarily looking taken aback. “Of course, let me check.” She turns her attention to the computer screen in front of her. Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m sorry sir, we only have rooms with one bed available—either a full, queen, or king-size mattress.”
Jungkook makes a noise in the back of his throat as he taps his credit card on the desk. Just watching from the side, you notice how he swallows, how he looks down, how his cheeks turn red. He turns to you after a moment. “D-Do you, uh, do you mind?”
It takes you a second to realize what Jungkook is asking. He’s asking if you’d be okay with sharing a bed with him. Him: your college crush, the guy you never really lost feelings for.
You turn red too. “U-Um…” You press your lips together and swallow. “S-Sure,” You manage, waving your hands out in front of you. “I-I don’t mind. I-If you don’t mind, of course.”
“I-I don’t mind either.” Jungkook, however, looks like he’s about to combust. He looks a little lost again. He blinks once, twice, and seems to realize that he’s supposed to hand the woman behind the desk his card. “Uh, whichever room is the cheapest.”
“That’ll be the room with the full-size bed.” She flickers her gaze between the two of you. “If that’s okay.”
“O-Of course,” He stammers back, allowing the girl to take the card. He looks at you. “Do you mind staying here? I have to go to the bathroom real quick.”
“S-Sure, go ahead.” A part of you wants to hit your head on the desk. What is happening to you? Why is the mere thought of sharing a bed with Jungkook turning you into a pile of mush? You’re a grown ass woman—!
“So the two of you on vacation or something?” The woman behind the desk asks. She’s still in the middle of scanning Jungkook’s credit card.
You try for a smile. “Kind of, we’re going to a friend’s wedding.”
“I see, that sounds fun.” She smiles. “You know, I have to be honest, I was a little surprised he asked for two beds. You guys would make a cute couple.”
At the label, you start to turn red. “O-Oh n-no, we’re not a couple at all. That’s very flattering, b-but yeah we’re not together.”
“Oh, I know,” The girl rebuffs. Her smile looks more like a grin. She places Jungkook’s credit card on the desk, along with a receipt and a pen. “I hope the full size bed will change that.” She gives you a wink.
You part your lips, unsure what to make of the situation. “What—!”
“I’m back,” Jungkook says, sliding up from behind you and making you jump slightly. “What did I miss?”
“Uh…” You wonder if your face is too red or not. It certainly feels that way. “Here!” You push him forward towards the desk. “She scanned your credit card. You just need to sign and we’ll be on our way.”
If Jungkook notices the stiffness in your posture, he doesn’t comment as he leans forward to sign the receipt. Just over Jungkook’s shoulder is the worker, looking at you with a now shit-eating grin across her lips. Several questions ping through your mind, but you don’t get to ask any of those because Jungkook is turning around with his credit card in hand.
“Uh, ready to get going?”
“Sure!” You say, voice a few several pitches higher and you return to wanting the ground to swallow you whole. Jungkook leads the way out of the lobby, and you dare one last glance back towards the woman behind the counter.
She’s waving a slip of paper in her hand.
You turn back to Jungkook. “Hey Jungkook, give me a second. I think we forgot to grab something at the desk.”
It sort of feels like a walk of shame to reach the worker behind the counter, who is still grinning at the sight of you and your internal struggles. She hands you the slip of paper, mouths something that makes you go red, before you’re turning back towards Jungkook. “Good luck,” She had whispered.
Before you’re reaching Jungkook, you open the paper. At the very top is the WiFi password.
Underneath the WiFi password, in what you can only assume is her handwriting, is one sentence. Fate said you guys only get one bed- don’t worry, I think he likes you too :-)
“What was that about?” Jungkook asks.
You shove the paper into your pocket. “The WiFi password,” You supply.
The walk to the hotel room is quiet as Jungkook leads the way through the different hallways, corridors, and numbers on plaques. That tense silence is back as he guides the two of you, stopping only when he reaches the number that matches the one on the index card. He gives you a look, and inserts the card key into the slot. The door beeps, and he pushes open the door to find, true to the word of the lady behind the counter, one full-sized bed in the middle of the room.
For the first few hours, it’s easy to ignore that full-sized elephant in the room. Jungkook takes out his laptop and you guys watch your favorite season of Haikyuu together—it’s season two—or you guys linger about on your phones. It isn’t until nighttime falls into your bones, into your minds, that you realize that you really need to address the new situation.
“I’m gonna take a shower first, if that’s okay,” You say, already sliding off the bed to gather your belongings from your suitcase. Jungkook is humming along to the Haikyuu ending song, but he stops long enough to accept you taking the first shower. He watches you as you fish pajamas out from your suitcase. “Hey, Jungkook…” You start. “Are you sure you’re cool with this?” You gesture to the bed. “I can sleep on the floor. They give you extra bedding for a reason…”
“What? No, of course not, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” He moves until his knees are pressed into the mattress. “And I’m cool with this. Promise.” He hesitates. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Y-Yeah,” You manage, straightening into a standing position with your clothes in hand. “I don’t really move around when I’m sleeping. And I trust you, Jungkook.” You keep your gaze on each other until you break it first, turning around to step into the bathroom.
You step out many minutes later, hair freshly washed and feeling much more relaxed than before. Jungkook has moved to the desk in the corner of the hotel room, typing away at some emails on his laptops. He does, however, whirl around upon hearing you exit the bathroom. The sight of you in your sweats, t-shirt, and damp hair makes his eyes linger.
You merely tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can go now,” You say quietly.
Jungkook nods. “Thanks.”
Breaking that eye contact again, you turn to the bed and lift the blankets to slide under the covers. You rest your head on the pillow, and immediately start to drift away.
You are brought back after what only feels like a few minutes, when you hear a light switch turn off followed by the blanket next to you lifting up. You turn slightly towards the other side of the bed. “Jungkook?” You whisper.
A stillness. “Ah shit, I’m sorry. I was trying to be sneaky.”
“Mmm…” You mumble softly, turning your body 180 degrees in order to face him. You can vaguely make out the shadow of Jungkook’s outline. “Don’t worry. I’m a really light sleeper. Come on in.”
There is a shift in the blankets until you feel the additional weight of Jungkook’s figure crawling in next to you. The knowledge that Jungkook is lying right next to you turns your blood hot both with anxiety and because Jungkook brings in a new wave of heat underneath the covers. For a cool spring night, it’s comforting. But also further anxiety-inducing.
Jungkook shifts and even though the pair of you are on opposite sides of the bed, you can still feel the warmth radiating off his body. In the silence of the hotel room, you can hear Jungkook breathing.
“Is this okay?” It’s Jungkook asking. His voice is quiet, soothing, and very close to your face. You realize that you guys are facing each other.
Still, you have to give an answer. “Y-Yeah,” You reply softly. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”
“Goodnight.”
You turn onto your back. You try to go to sleep, you really do. But your heart is pounding, and rather than the blood filling your ears, it’s the sound of Jungkook’s breathing.
“Y/N, you still awake?” Jungkook asks softly.
You snort. “It’s only been a minute.”
Jungkook smiles. “Sorry. I just… I have a question. A thought, actually.”
“What is it?”
“Well, okay, I don’t want to come off as arrogant or self-centered, but it’s just a question and just this thought that I have…”
“Jungkook.” You turn back to face him. “You can ask me the question. I don’t mind.”
“Well, alright.” Jungkook shifts. He’s a little closer now, you can make out the outline of his face. Everything looks slightly more defined now, definitely a result of your eyes adjusting to the darkness. “When you were talking about the guy you had a crush on… you know, when I asked if there was someone you were interested in while we were in college.”
“Oh, I remember.” Your heart feels fuzzy, even though you have no idea what he’s going to ask you.
“Okay, um. I guess I just wanted to know. Were you talking about me?
The world seems to stop tilting on its axis—and all the consequences of that follow along. Everything around you slows to a grind: your heart stops in your chest, and all the air drains out of your lungs. You hold your breath, feeling as if your body has just been dipped underwater. Thousands of thoughts ping through your mind. You feel like that episode of Spongebob where all the file cabinets in your brain are catching aflame. You suddenly feel like you have no thoughts, but too many thoughts at the same time.
Above all, one question rises above all the rest: how did Jungkook know?
You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear your name being called. It isn’t until you feel a hand at your shoulder do you jolt. “H-Huh?”
“S-Sorry.” Jungkook sounds a lot more nervous now. “You weren’t responding.”
“I… I was thinking,” You reply lamely.
A pause. “What’s your answer?” Were you talking about me?
You swallow. Should you tell the truth? Or should you deny everything with the hopes that Jungkook will forget this conversation ever existed?
The words spill out before you can think of a proper answer. “What if I was?”
Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “Well…” He starts up again, inching forward towards you. Every move he makes is amplified in your ear, every squeak of the mattress and every rustle of clothing echoed in the small space that is your hotel room. “I’d be kinda frustrated, to be honest. Because when I was talking about my own crush, it might have been about you.”
At Jungkook’s confession, the world seems to come crashing down on you as everything around tries to catch up to you. Immediately, you assume that perhaps you hadn’t heard Jungkook correctly, or maybe you’re completely misinterpreting what he’s trying to say to you.
In a perfect world, maybe you’d say something witty and smart. Maybe you’d play along until he snapped. Maybe you’d be fluent in courting talk and understand exactly what he’s trying to say to you.
But this isn’t a perfect world, and you are neither witty nor smart. You most certainly are not aware of flirtations. You need boys to be as straightforward as possible. Which is why you utter the most comprehensible: “What?”
You feel a warmth at your hip—Jungkook’s hand against your skin. “Ahhhh.” Jungkook starts, not at all sounding fearful but rather casual. Still the underlying case of shyness, however, because this is still Jungkook. “I forgot you sometimes need simple things spelled out for you. Remember when you emailed our Arts History professor three times because you kept forgetting what font she wanted the assignment in?”
You flush—Arts History was the class you and Jungkook were forced to pair up together for. Maybe you would have protested it more had you known Jungkook would turn out to be a little shit over it. “That was a one time thing! You’ve been bringing it up for as long as I’ve known you!”
Jungkook giggles, pulling you closer so your face is against his collarbone and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Shh, okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
Your face is burning at the feeling of your bodies so close together, your fingers pressed against his shirt and your nose against his skin. He smells like floral fabric softener. “Jungkook…?” You whisper softly, breath fanning his neck.
Jungkook tilts his head to rest gently against your temple. He stays quiet for a moment, absorbing the moment. “If you did have a crush on me in college, it would be frustrating. Because I had a crush on you too.”
This time it’s straightforward, just like how you’ve always wanted it. Why can’t you seem to reply?
“Oh.”
“I know.”
You curl your fingers around Jungkook’s shirt. “What if…” You start slowly. “What if I said I still had those feelings?”
Jungkook seems to think about his answer. “I’d say that I do too.”
You swallow, nodding in a way that allows him to feel the movement. “Okay then.”
Without a warning, Jungkook moves to curl his whole arm around your frame. This brings you even closer together. He noses your hairline. “Go to sleep,” He whispers softly. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”
A part of you wants to say no—that holding off on confessions isn’t what happens in novels or tv shows or movies. But the larger part of you knows that you won’t be able to have a proper discussion like this when you are weak, tired, and vulnerable. Your heart stalls at his consideration, allowing yourself to be content just like this: asleep, cuddling with Jeon Jungkook as you’ve imagined since you first developed your crush.
It’s much better than the fantasy.
.
You wake up the next morning with Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, his soft breathing against your neck and his lips dusting the skin of your neck. There’s a new kind of comfort you find being held like this, and a part of you wants to melt back into his arms. You think you can pretend to be asleep just to stay here a little longer, but the urgency you have to pee and get the day started becomes too pressing.
Your previous assumptions of Jungkook being a heavy sleeper are confirmed as you manage to untangle yourself from him without so much as a whine from his end. By the time you finish with the bathroom, Jungkook is just beginning to push himself into a sitting position.
You linger near the foot of the bed. “Good morning,” You greet, almost nervously. For good reason to—the memory of last night is vague but defined well enough where you aren’t sure what the next course of action should be. It’s not like your college ever offered a course about what to do when your crush admits to liking you back.
Jungkook looks at you from across the bed. He gives you a small smile, a reassuring one. “Morning,” He says back. “How did you sleep last night?”
You twist your hands together. “Pretty good, actually. How about you?”
“Me too.” He adjusts his position so he can crawl over to you. He slides his legs over the side of the bed right next to you. He brings his hands towards you, palms up. Although he’s close enough to reach you, he doesn’t. Instead, he asks: “Can I?”
You don’t say anything, you merely rest your hand in his. He tugs you towards him, stopping only when you’re standing between his legs. He still keeps his fingers curled around yours, turning your hand up to play with your fingers.
He looks up at you, a soft smile across his lips. “Hi.”
You smile back. “Hi.”
He laces your fingers together, resting them between your bodies. “I guess now for the bigger question… how are you feeling?”
You look down at your hands, deciding you like the way his larger hands cover yours. “H-How did you know I was talking about you?” You ask instead, looking over at him.
Jungkook shifts his gaze away for a moment. “I don’t know,” He admits earnestly. “You were just looking at me back at the flower field and I had a feeling. And I really think a part of me was hoping you were talking about me.”
Unable to help yourself, you feel the side of your mouth quirk up into a small smile. “What would you have done if I wasn’t talking about you?”
He exhales in a laugh. “Honestly, I might have just driven out in the middle of the night and gone over a bridge or something.”
You laugh, trying to diffuse your smile by pressing your lips but it only works so well. “I was really surprised to hear you liked me back.”
“Of course!” He exclaims, looking momentarily shocked that you would feel this way. “I wasn’t messing around when I said you were smart, funny, and easy to talk to. That’s what made me really like you when we first met. Whenever we talked you just felt so real and approachable—like I could just be myself around you. And even now, seeing you after graduating and realizing you’re still all of those things. It just makes me like you more.”
You feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You’ve never thought of yourself in the way Jungkook is describing you—you always just assumed that you were in the background, that you’d never be enough.
Jungkook is looking at you, his eyes big and wide and full of truth. “Is that weird?” He asks.
You shake your head immediately. “No, no it’s not weird at all.” You shrug a shoulder, giving him a meek smile. “It’s really sweet, actually.”
Jungkook grins at that, heaving out a breath as a sign of his lowered defenses. “I think you’re sweet too.”
You groan at that, throwing your head back as Jungkook breaks into a series of giggles. “You’re corny.”
“You’re not complaining,” He points out. This is true.
You shrug. “I guess that means I’m expecting us to catch up on three years of terrible flirting.”
The smile slides off his face. “You’re right.” He brings your joined hands closer together until your whole body is standing closer to his. “Can I ask to kiss you?”
The four letter K word makes your heart stutter in your chest once more. Your hands are so close to his chest that you can feel his own heart beating, and the thought of Jungkook being equally nervous for this gives you enough confidence to return his question. “Why don’t you ask and find out?”
He smiles, a bunny smile that crinkles his eyes. “Touche. Can I kiss you?”
You smile back. “Yes…” You whisper, leaning down just enough for Jungkook to crane his neck up in order to meet each other halfway. It’s just a closed-mouth kiss, a soft weight against your lips.
It’s one that Jungkook pulls away from before you can really enjoy it, really ponder asking for more. “Sorry,” He says immediately, pointing to his mouth. “Morning breath.”
The pair of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into laughter. That tense atmosphere is gone, replaced inside with that previously casual and comfortable air—as you step away from Jungkook and let him get his morning started. Except this time, the air is filled with open lingering stares, shy smiles, and Jungkook taking your suitcase wordlessly as you exit your hotel room.
By the time you load into your car, it’s nearing noon and the gas tank in Jungkook’s car is almost empty. The pair of you agree in another champion’s breakfast—gas station food.
“I swear, we’re both going to have terrible breakout tomorrow during the wedding,” You point out. Despite your words, you still tear into your Nacho Cheese Doritos with the aggression of a gorilla. “I’m going to photograph horribly. Irene will be so embarrassed.”
“You photograph horribly? Inconceivable!” He says the word just as it is said in The Princess Bride, which makes you burst into another fit of laughter.
The afternoon pans out the same way it has for the past two days. Jungkook drives onto the freeway, you decide the music, and the conversations fade in and out. Neither of you talk about the events of the previous night or of what happened in the morning—but the way Jungkook reaches out to laces your fingers together is more than enough.
The town Jungkook has selected to stop for the evening is a five hour drive from the wedding venue—and it’s an actual city space this time, with restaurants and grocery stores and apartments. As soon as Jungkook tells you this information, you are bursting with excitement. It’s been two days since the pair of you actually stopped and lingered in a city environment and you miss it.
It takes another whole day of driving to reach the city destination, as the first alert you get is the increasing number of cars that have joined you on the freeway. These more busy freeways guide you into the city, where you are greeted with the first sight of buildings, sidewalks, restaurants, and parking lots in days.
Even though most of these landmarks are simple flashes that you and Jungkook pass through on the way to the hotel he has selected, you keep your eyes glued out of the window in order to take in as much of the surrounding area as you can. You continue to watch as the immediate high rises become more sporadic and spread out, until he’s finally pulling into the hotel. The sun is just setting behind the many buildings along the horizon. Lots of other cars are parked in the parking lot. You can hear other cars, buses, and trunks driving around the background—and you feel strangely comforted by this discovery.
“Are you okay with sharing another bed today?” Jungkook asks as he guides the pair of you into the lobby. “I may or may not have called to make a reservation earlier when you were in the bathroom.”
You laugh, feeling giddy at the thought of Jungkook taking the initiative to continue progressing your now slow-growing relationship. “Was that all they had left?” You ask teasingly as you make your way to the counter.
Jungkook smiles down at you. “Perhaps I didn’t ask…”
Your lips part. “Jungkook!”
“What?” He’s laughing now. “I think I’m gonna bow out of any excuse to cuddle with you now that you’ve given me a taste of what that’s like?”
You’re gasping in the midst of your laughter. “You’re terrible,” You manage.
So Jungkook checks in—true to his word, he has reserved a single full-sized bed for the room.
“Hey, so, I was thinking,” He starts as he’s following the map provided to him by the employee with directions about getting to his appropriate room. This hotel is slightly bigger than the off-the-road ones you and Jungkook pulled into, so it takes a little longer to find the room. After a few minutes of turning the map over, you two eventually find the room.
“What’s up?” You ask as you push open the door and roll your suitcase into the space, with Jungkook following closely behind you.
“Come here,” Jungkook requests gently, watching as you let go of your suitcase and make your way towards him. You move into his space easily, allowing him to hold you by the waist. “Since we’ve both admitted to missing out on three years of courting, flirting, and dating—I think we should go out to an actual restaurant to have an actual date.”
You lean back slightly and give him a slightly shocked look. “Really?”
“Yes!” He says. “Besides, someone has to put their foot down and say that eating only McDonalds and gas station hot dogs is not the right way to go.”
You laugh at that. “True, but we were having so much fun!”
“Nope!” He exclaims, shaking his head. “The foot is going down, we’re going to an actual restaurant for dinner. Get changed, take a shower, whatever you need to do to freshen up.” There’s a finality in his words as he finally steps away from you, the smile of sweetness still on his lips.
The restaurant Jungkook picks after scrolling through Yelp and other lists of recommendations is a corner Italian place that apparently serves the best Linguini and clams—a dish that you really enjoy. So you put something together much more presentable than your usual round of sweatpants and baggy t-shirts—replacing the sweatpants with black jeans and giving yourself a cream colored cropped sweater. It makes Jungkook’s eyes widen all the same. He’s clad in his usual black jeans and oversized coat that is perfect for the spring breeze.
Since the restaurant is within walking distance of the hotel, you and Jungkook agree to chill off on the driving just enough to stretch your legs and actually have a walk for once—all while celebrating the final night of the road trip.
“I was a little worried about this at first, to be honest with you,” You admit softly to Jungkook, long after the pair of you have been seated in a corner booth and have ordered your food. You’re circling the pasta noodles around your fork, and Jungkook is watching with a touch of amusement and adoration in his eyes.
“Not gonna lie, so was I,” Jungkook returns back with an equally meek smile.
You gape at him. “You invited me though!”
“I did!” Jungkook exclaims with a laugh, looking down at his own order of food. “Me inviting you was honestly a spur of the moment thing. Me catching up to you, however, was me trying to be brave.”
“You seemed pretty brave throughout most the trip,” You point out
Jungkook shakes his head, situating his arms in a cross motion. “Nah dude that was just all a very well thought out facade. A part of me was expecting it to go terribly so I could at least walk away knowing that I built you up in my mind and the fantasy of that was better than the reality.” He must see the look of uncertainty casting a shadow over your mind because he immediately cuts back in. “Just so you know, the reality is much better than anything I could have conjured up.”
You lower your chin slightly, staring over at Jungkook. You bring one shoulder up into a half-hearted shrug, maybe to showcase a certain level of carelessness. “What were you conjuring up then?”
“Oh, I don’t know if you want to go there right now,” He rebuffs, looking a little red in the cheeks. “I think we should start slow. Refer to the PG thoughts, if you will.”
You laugh, focusing your gaze momentarily on the last of your pasta. You had sorted through the clams, since they weren’t your favorite things to eat. “Jungkook, are you admitting to me that you have thoughts above PG?”
“Oh shit, that wasn’t my intention!”
You giggle. “I’m messing with you, Jungkook!”
He pouts. “Don’t do that.” He rests his hand on the table, palm up, inviting for you to take it. “I just want to spend today with you, and take it slow—I just want to hold your hand and kiss you and lay with you and just be with you in the way I couldn’t be with you in college. Is that too weird?”
You look down, pressing your lips together, trying not to squeal and definitely not trying to throw yourself off the chair. You look back over at him and squeeze his hand. “That’s not too weird at all. That’s actually really sweet. Honestly, those are things I probably would have asked for regardless. I don’t really know the rules of dating—I never really went out that often.”
Jungkook smiles sweetly back at you, he brings your hands up to kiss the back. “I’ll give you a few pointers then, let’s get going.”
After the check is paid for—it ends up being a split between the two, it’s the best compromise you can come up with considering he wants to take you out but you want to pay him back for driving this far—the pair of you emerge back into the city space. Jungkook’s hand is still wrapped around yours, using that connection point to pull you close to him.
“Now this move,” Jungkook explains, beginning to lead you both back to your hotel room. “Is when the gentleman walks the lady home, because their date went by smoothly and he wants to see her for as long as possible.”
You laugh. “I’m enjoying this so far.”
The pair of you continue down the sidewalk, using the time it’ll take to walk back to the hotel to walk off the food in your stomach. You resume your conversation, giggling and laughing all the same until you’re walking through the lobby of the hotel and slowly making your way to your hotel room.
Right before you step inside, Jungkook stops you. “Normally, the front door is where the gentleman drops the lady off, and they talk about how well the date went.”
“Oh, well, in that case, this was so nice, Jungkook,” You remark, beaming at Jungkook’s own smile. “I’m glad you convinced me to eat real food for once.”
“You’re welcome—I had fun too.” Jungkook slides closer to you. You, completely hypnotized by his next movements, watch as he cups your face with his hand to angle you upwards. “This is the part where we have a first kiss, because the stars are lined up for this. And because I really want to.”
You smile, curling one of your hands around the wrist near your face. “Seeing as we’ve already had our first kiss, how about a second one?”
Jungkook smiles back, eyes lidded towards your mouth. “I guess that’ll work.” His lesson on dating, it seems, is done, as he leans in to kiss you. You suck in a breath as he covers your lips with his. It’s deeper than the first time he kissed you—which had been more of a peck with a side of morning breath. But now you’re both awake, tasting like wine, and drunk off each other. It’s a more real kiss.
You whimper as Jungkook’s tongue runs over your bottom lip, before slipping into your mouth. It’s a sensation you can get completely lost in, until Jungkook pulls away.
Under the hallway light, you can make out his flushed cheeks, his wet lips, his dark gaze.
Immediately, Jungkook is pulling you to his side before he starts digging through the pockets of his jeans. “Alright, we’re going inside right now.”
You lean into his shoulder. “I thought I was supposed to invite you inside, Jeon? What happened to giving me pointers on first dates?”
“Screw that,” He retorts, practically shoving the hotel door open. He turns around to face you. “Now, this is our hotel room. And I want to kiss you in private.”
Your laughter is drowned out as Jungkook tugs you by the wrist into the room.
.
Under different circumstances, waking up next to each other after a first date would hit you with a wave of anxiety and maybe even a vague sense of embarrassment at letting someone you like see you in such a vulnerable position.
Right now, however, under the morning sunlight within the covers of your shared hotel bed, you just feel happy and content. You wake up on your side, with an arm resting over Jungkook’s chest and his fingers curling around your own. There is an immediate feeling of giddiness that overtakes you, because it’s hard for you to believe that this is happening. Someone you’ve liked and continue to like actually returning your feelings? That has always been such a foreign concept to you.
You don’t know how long you continue laying in bed until Jungkook starts shifting next to you, signalling his wake. You watch as his eyes slowly peel open, laced with grogginess but still looking unfairly attractive that there are butterflies in your stomach.
Jungkook lets out a sigh, as he looks down at you. A tired smile takes over his expression. “Morning.”
“Good morning,” You reply back, voice soft and a little shy. “Happy wedding day.”
That is true. Today is Irene’s wedding—an event you and Jungkook will arrive at in nearly five hours. There’s a strange sort of knot that is beginning to twist itself in your stomach, a knowledge that something good is coming to a close but a fear in the unknown as to what this would mean regarding your relationship with Jungkook. Neither of you have laid down groundwork for your relationship—if this even is a relationship to begin with. You may be inexperienced with this kind of stuff, but you’re sure that one date and making out on a hotel bed doesn’t immediately constitute an exclusive relationship.
If Jungkook notices the tension in your form, he doesn’t say anything. He kisses your temple and grumbles something about wanting to get the day started. He mentions something about not having to worry about getting dressed for the wedding straightaway—that he has reserved a room at the hotel some of the guests of the wedding would be staying at, which is where you will be getting ready before the event. You nod, hearing pieces of his words, but a lot of it gets lost in your own thoughts.
Is it okay to ask questions about where you stand with Jungkook? Is it foolish of you to even bother wondering? You’ve seen movies and have had conversations with friends about guys who dismissed questions like that as ‘moving too fast’. You don’t want to scare Jungkook off, but you also need to know that you’re not wasting your time.
You remain in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you sigh and try to organize through your thoughts. You also try to break down how the past three days have been.
However, trying to do so proves to be a difficult challenge, as Jungkook’s phone starts buzzing excessively on his side of the nightstand—it seems like he is getting a series of text messages from someone.
You know you shouldn’t be looking or prying, but the constant binging of alerts only eats at your nerves more. You turn in the bed towards Jungkook’s side, picking up the device to search for the silence switch along the sides. The screen, however, lights up and you immediately see a name you have not seen or heard since college.
Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts
Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think
Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :)
You freeze, feeling your body overload with information and questions come flooding into your mind. At first, you think you reread the message wrong. You think that maybe Jennie is texting the wrong person. But after the third or fourth time, you realize that this isn’t a dream. That Jungkook already has a plus one to the wedding, and it isn’t you.
More than that, it’s Jennie.
Jennie is also someone you went to college with, and someone that you only heard of between the grape vines and therefore is someone that is only vaguely recognizable. But you definitely know her. Jennie had been one of Irene’s friends, president of her sorority—and labeled some of the nicest people on campus. Even just from rumors and the one time you ran into her around the school, you can see it. Jennie is nice, beautiful, friendly, and outgoing. All the things you are not.
And now, she’s Jungkook’s plus one to the wedding. And Jungkook did not tell you.
Your lips part as your head starts to spin. Why didn’t Jungkook tell you he already had a plus one to Irene’s wedding? Maybe he did not owe you the explanation, and maybe you should never have assumed he’d be your plus one to the wedding.
The thought of you assuming Jungkook would be your date to the wedding fills you with a vague mortification—why did you have to go ahead and assume?
Your mind starts to spiral as you fall into the depths of overthinking. Now you were set to attend a wedding alone, with no plus one, and surrounded by people you don’t know. All while watching Jungkook sit with Jennie, eat with Jennie, and dance with Jennie.
Holy fuck, holy fuck, what were you going to do? You can’t go to this wedding alone. You can’t confront Jungkook about this—you’re not even supposed to be touching his phone or looking through his phone. He would definitely be upset. How could he not be?
At once, the tears collect in your eyes. How could this be happening? Seconds ago, you had been so content and happy, excited to attend this wedding with Jungkook. Seconds ago, you had been confident about your feelings, and Jungkook’s feelings in return. From all the kisses he showered you in, the date, the talking, the confessing—how could you not feel that way?
Had Jungkook just been pulling your leg? After all, he did have three years to talk to you, to go out with you. Why hadn’t he said something sooner? Is he here right now: talking to you and laughing with you because he hadn’t found anyone and knows that you would do anything for him?
In the background, you can vaguely make out the shower in the bathroom turn off, signalling Jungkook’s near completion with the bathroom. At once, it feels like you’re in a car that has enforced sudden breaks and has sent you flying against the dashboard—like you can’t breathe.
Hastily, you rest Jungkook’s phone back on the nightstand and roll back over to your side of the bed. You blink quickly, trying to rid of the tears that have collected in your eyes while also trying to calm the lump in the back of your throat.
Just as you’re starting to get a handle back on your feelings, the bathroom door opens and you can vaguely make out Jungkook’s humming as he exits. The fact that he sounds so carefree while you’re hurting only a handful of feet away almost makes the tears come back in. But you’ve learned how to hide your emotions well.
Jungkook’s soft laugh brings you out of your thoughts. “Still in bed?” He asks jokingly, sitting on the edge and placing a hand on your ankle. You try not to stiffen at the gesture. “You know, even though we’re getting dressed at a different hotel, we still need to get going.”
You take in a breath. “I’m comfortable here,” You exclaim, sitting up and facing Jungkook. He’s looking as wide-eyed, easy-going, and comfortable as always. You’re not sure how long you can keep up the facade of being okay. “I was just waiting for you, that’s all.”
You don’t wait for him to reply as you slide off the bed, grab your clothes from your suitcase, and lock yourself in the bathroom. You ignore the lump in your throat as you brush your teeth, as you get your day started. Finally, you look up at your own reflection in the mirror. Unlike previous times, when there had been a glimmer to your gaze—you don’t know you recognize the now disheartened individual before you.
You exit the bathroom and immediately turn to pack up your suitcase once more, ignoring Jungkook in the process. The boy is on his phone, typing something—probably a text message. Maybe he’s responding to Jennie, confirming their date for tonight, as he remains completely oblivious to your feelings.
The thought brings the tears back to your eyes.
“Ready to go?” Jungkook asks, all smiles and soft eyes as he slides off the bed to face you.
You don’t look at him as you shoulder your carry-on bag and straighten into a standing position. “Yeah.” You don’t mean for the tone to come out dry and unresponsive, but you’re too focused on trying to get the tears out of your throat.
You miss the way the smile slowly slips off Jungkook’s face as he watches you move towards the door.
Jungkook moves towards you, reaching forward to take your suitcase from you just as he’s done for the past few days.
You, however, brush him off. “It’s okay, Jungkook.” You pull open the door and make your way down the hallway without looking back to see if he’s following closer behind you. You don’t need his help, you don’t need his pity. You don’t need him to do these things, to lead you on—especially if he was going to end up with some other girl at then end of the day.
You stay quiet as you make your way to Jungkook’s car. Jungkook steals the occasional glance in your direction, seeming to finally realize that something is wrong.
He, however, doesn’t say anything until you’re back on the freeway—on the five hour drive towards the wedding venue. “Everything okay?”
You’re playing with your hair, but you stop long enough to spare him a short glance. You’re not even looking at his face, you’re looking at the chair he’s seated on. “What do you mean?”
Jungkook clears his throat. “You’ve been really quiet since I got out of the bathroom. You…” He gestures to the center console. “You’re not even playing any music.” He tries for a smile. “I’d really like to listen to your ‘everything’ playlist.”
“Sorry, I’m not really in a music-listening mood right now,” You whisper, realizing that you should probably cover up your ass a little better than you are currently. “S-Sorry, I think it was something at the restaurant yesterday. I’m not feeling super hot right now.”
“Oh no, do we need to stop by a pharmacy or something? I can run in and get some stomach machine or whatever—!”
“Jungkook, it’s fine.”
Maybe it’s the finality of your tone, or the sharper edge in your voice, but Jungkook quiets down again. One glance in his direction shows you the furrow of his eyebrows, the set of his jawline—he looks hurt and confused. And that kills you inside.
A small part of you wants you just lay all your cards on the table—to admit your side of the story and let him know about the texts and the hurt feeling still eating itself at your heart.
But another part of you, the bigger part of you, doesn’t want to give Jungkook that power. You don’t want to be the one to crack first, to be the one who gets hurt first. So you refuse to say anything, settling deeper and deeper into the seat of Jungkook’s car. Contrary to your initial thoughts, he doesn’t plug in his own phone to play his own music. He simply allows the pair of you to bathe in silence.
Without the music to distract you, without Jungkook trying to make conversation, it forces your mind to linger on the events of the early morning. Maybe Jungkook didn’t tell you because it was obvious to him that the pair of you would never have been a plus one to the wedding in general. He’s probably hurt because Jungkook can’t get his way with you.
The realization that he doesn’t even have the consideration to warn you ahead of time that an invitation for a ride doesn’t equate to an invitation to be a plus one brings the tears back to your eyes. Did you not even deserve a warning? Why would Jungkook let you kiss him, let you fall in love with him—only to turn his back on you like this?
You have to keep your eyes glued to the window of the passenger’s side of the car, just to make sure Jungkook won’t see the tears. You can just imagine that he’ll ask, and the conversation will steer the pair of you into an even more awkward space.
It’s a very agonizing five hours. Not having that time to recover from the shock of those texts is becoming increasingly more difficult for you to handle.
There are a few times that your tears overwhelm your whole system, where you have to sniff to get a handle on your body’s response to the emotions going through your body—which you’re sure Jungkook can hear. After all, there’s no music playing and there is a silence that is threatening to swallow you whole.
Jungkook, however, does not say anything in response to your very obvious sniffle. He merely tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and keeps his mouth shut. You wonder if he’s waiting for you to talk first, to explain what’s going on with you.
The sky is bleeding orange by the time Jungkook pulls into the new hotel, the final hotel. There is still two hours until the wedding is set to start, but every nerve in your body is screaming for you to leave and go back home. Every nerve in your body is telling you that you don’t belong here anymore.
“Okay, I let you have your peace for the whole drive over,” Jungkook starts off, voice tight, fixing the car into park. “But I’m asking you this right now. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t seem fine… and I’m worried about you…” He reaches across the car to land a hand on your shoulder. It’s a completely normal gesture, especially between you and Jungkook, but you cannot handle it.
You jerk away. “I’m fine,” You snap out, actually fixing your gaze on him this time. Jungkook recoils, immediately retracting his arm from you, looking like you just burned him. You tear your gaze away from him. You’re not strong enough to see him hurt because of you. “Why do you care anyways?”
Jungkook exhales in disbelief, turning towards the steering wheel of the car and running a hand through his hair. “What are you talking about? Is this about last night? Did I… say something to scare you off?”
“This isn’t about what you said, this is about what you didn’t say and what you’re not telling me!”
Jungkook looks like you just grew a second head. “What are you talking about?”
You whirl back to face him. “Oh, so the fact that you and Miss. Jennie were already set to go to this fucking wedding together and you didn’t even think to give me a heads up and tell me?”
Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. “What? How did you know about that?”
You laugh, but it’s a hollow noise that only makes that lump come back to your throat. “Nevermind,” You bite out. This time, you don’t stop the tears from resurfacing as you give Jungkook a full look this time. His demeanor changes from frozen to pained at the sight. “I hope you guys are very happy together.”
You don’t say another word as you fumble with the latch of the door before pushing it open with more strength than necessary. You can vaguely hear Jungkook struggling with his own seat belt, but you don’t care. You slam the car door shut and storm away. You don’t know where you’re going—maybe around the corner to scream, or to call a taxi that’ll take you to the airport. You don’t care about the wedding. You don’t think you could face the embarrassment in facing Jungkook or Jennie or Irene right now.
“Shit, Y/N! Y/N!” Jungkook is calling for you now, his footsteps loud against the asphalt.
Everything feels like you’re going through water, which is probably why Jungkook is able to reach you as quickly as he does. He catches you by the wrist.
“Y/N—please, will you stop and just listen to me?”
“No! Jungkook, let me go.” You start trying to tug your wrist, trying to pull yourself away from him. “Let me go! I’m leaving! I don’t want to see you anymore!” You’re gasping, the tears blurring your vision and making you feel powerless.
Without a warning, Jungkook pulls you in his arms. Wrapping his arms around you, he traps you in his embrace. And you are miserable.
“Stop it!” You gasp, trying to push him away. You’re heaving—crying and trying to escape from someone as strong as Jungkook is definitely a workout for your body. “Jungkook, leave me alone. This is all my fault.”
He pauses. “What do you mean?”
You stop struggling, allowing Jungkook to hold you as you pull back enough to look away from his face. You wipe at the tears on your face. “It’s my fault anyways. I said I liked you and you said you liked me too, but maybe that wasn’t enough for you. Just because we like each other doesn’t mean we’re exclusive. I should have asked up front, so I wouldn’t get hurt in the long run.”
“You don’t need to get hurt though,” Jungkook whispers kindly, his voice overcoming the blood in your ears, as well as your own yelling. You quiet down at that, except for your own lungs contracting to catch more air. This leaves you a hiccuping mess. He waits until he knows you’re not going to say anything next. “You’re right, okay? Jennie and I were supposed to be each other’s dates.”
You’re still trying to catch your breath.
Jungkook rests a hand on top of your head, curling his fingers through the strands of your hair soothingly. “Are you okay?”
You hiccup. “Why are you telling me this? I just told you that I’m hurt right now…”
“Shhh.” Jungkook pulls back and cups your face in his hands so you can look at him. “You aren’t listening to me. I said we were supposed to be each other’s dates. We’re not anymore.”
You blink, allowing the tears that were already filling your eyes to fall down your cheeks. Jungkook wipes them gently with his thumb. “What?”
Jungkook’s gaze flickers between your eyes. “Jennie and I are friends, so we’d figure it would be fun to just go together and have a person to sit with, eat with, and dance with. As friends.”
“W-What happened then?” You ask, a watery color in your voice.
Jungkook gives you a gentle smile, the kind of gesture that tells you that you should know the answer already. “You happened, silly.” He keeps his eyes on yours. “I saw you at the party with Jimin and invited you to come with me. I assumed when I asked that we’d be each other’s plus ones. I forgot to tell Jennie though when I asked you out.” He tilts his head at you. “You saw the texts on my phone, didn’t you?”
“I-I’m sorry.” You hiccup again. “Your phone kept going off this morning and I was just trying to put it on silent. I-I didn’t mean to look through your messages…”
“Shh, baby, you’re good, you’re okay.” Jungkook interrupts gently, wrapping his arms tighter around you and swaying the pair of you back and forth. The usage of the nickname fills you with a new feeling, a warmer feeling. It helps calm you down.
Your breathing eventually evens out, bringing you back to reality and to the realization that you and Jungkook are hugging in the middle of a hotel parking lot.
Jungkook loosens his grip on you, letting you step back. He watches you for a moment. “Here,” He says, digging through his pocket and pulling out his phone. “I think you should see this.” He clicks through a few of his apps, until he seems to find what he’s looking for because he hands the phone to you. You look over at him, confusion flooding through your features. Jungkook gives you a reassuring nod. “It’s okay.”
Still hesitant, you take the phone and look at the messages across the screen. It’s the texts from this morning.
Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts
Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think
Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :)
Jungkook (10:20AM): hey Jennie !! oh shit i totally forgot to let u know but i actually found a plus one :( i’m soooo sorry i should have told you earlier omg i feel terrible
Jennie (10:20AM): no worries jungkook !! who is it omg do I know them?
Jungkook (10:20AM): it’s actually Y/N? We all went to college together…
Jennie (10:20AM): OH!!!! wait isn’t she the one Irene was working with a lot for senior projects?
Jennie (10:20AM): OH HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO
Jennie (10:21AM): OKAY JUNGKOOK I SEE U
Jennie (10:21AM): she’s THE Y/N right???? the one u were in love with for our entire college career??
Jungkook (10:22AM): …… maybe?
Jennie (10:22AM): WOWOWOWOW good for u Jungkook !!! glad to see u finally having the balls to ask her out !!
Jungkook (10:22AM): OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH
Jungkook (10:23AM): I actually felt BAD for leaving you by yourself BUT NOT ANYMORE
Jennie (10:23AM): LMAO Jungkook I’m friends with Irene’s entire bridesmaid row i’ll be fine
Jennie (10:23AM): just go get ur dick wet!!!!!!
Jungkook (10:23AM): istg i will leave you on read
Jungkook (10:23AM): also that is NOT the point!!!!!! Just wanna love my new girl :(
Jennie (10:24AM): You’re gross
Jennie (10:24AM): but sounds good see you tonight!
You look up from Jungkook’s phone to see him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction, pleading for you to forgive him.
The only thought that can be translated into a coherent sentence comes out: “You were in love with me during college?”
Jungkook exhales in a laugh, his arms finding your waist once again. “I think ‘in love with’ was a bit of a stretch back then. I think you could agree that we didn’t know each other well enough before for me to say that.”
You’re still looking at him. “Back then…?” You echo.
He nods. “Back then.” He brings you closer, one hand moving up to gently brush at the skin of your cheek. “But it’s different now. Now, I can say with absolute certainty that I’m in love with you.”
Your lips part. “You’re in love with me?” The tears spring back into your eyes, but for a different reason entirely. The emotional rollercoaster you have just been on is unbelievable.
Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of your tears. “Oh shit, I’m sorry! Is that too fast? I’m sorry, I should have given you a warning or something. Or more time at least. Oh no, please don’t cry…”
You brush him off with a watery laugh, waving his concern away. “It’s okay Jungkook. This is fine, really.” You give him a smile. “I love you too. I really thought you were pulling my leg or something.”
Jungkook gives you his own small smile. “I’m sorry. I should have brought this up sooner about us being each other’s plus ones. Just because I assume something doesn’t mean it’s an established thing.” He brings you closer, his smile turning into a grin. “You love me too, huh?”
You giggle. You’re too strung out to come up with something witty or clever. “Yeah…”
Jungkook is still smiling, his gaze switching between your lips and your eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
You nod. “About time.”
He kisses you again, softly and sweetly, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips but it’s gentle caresses that make your heart feel like it’s crawling up your throat.
“OH MY GOD GET A ROOM!” A voice calls from the other side of the parking lot, forcing you and Jungkook to pull away. The pair of you look at each other and you start to laugh.
Jungkook kisses your forehead, sweeping down to your ear. “How about we check into our room and get ready?”
You giggle, nodding over at him. “That sounds good.”
So Jungkook leads the way, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you gather your suitcases from the car and enter the lobby. You check in easily, as Jungkook is provided a map with directions on how to reach the room.
The pair of you don’t pull away once until Jungkook is sliding the key card into the door and pushing it open to reveal the bedroom you’ll be sharing for the night.
Both you and Jungkook park your suitcases near the foot of the bed, as per usual.
“Do you want to use the bathroom?” Jungkook offers.
You nod, smiling softly. “Okay.”
You gather the dress you’ve brought in your arms, about to enter the bathroom, before Jungkook’s voice stops you. “Hey,” He calls, approaching you and wrapping you in his arms again. He’s much more handsey this time, like he needs to make sure you’re not going to run away again, like you’re going to be okay. “You feel better now?” His thumb brushes your lips. “Your eyes are still a little red.”
You nod. “The makeup will probably help that,” You reassure in a soft voice.
Jungkook mirrors your movements. “Still, how about I get some ice for you so you can put something cold underneath your eyes… to stop the puffing.”
He looks genuinely concerned and worried for your wellbeing that you can’t help but smile. Since he is insisting, you decide to just let him be. “Okay, Jungkook.”
He smiles. “Okay! You start getting ready and I’ll get the ice, okay?” A quick kiss on your cheek before he’s bounding out of the door with the provided ice buckets.
Your eyes linger on the door for a few minutes before you’re turning back to your suitcase. The dress you have picked is a pink flowing floor-length number—something Karly helped you pick out before leaving. It’s soft enough that it doesn’t leave crease marks along the fabric, which had made this outfit perfect for the trip. You take the dress and your bag of makeup before entering the bathroom. You’re just slipping on the dress when you hear the hotel room door open and close.
“Okay, I got the ice!” Jungkook announces through the bathroom door. “Did you want to work on your eyes right now?”
“Sure,” You call back. “Do you mind zipping me up first?”
“Of course,” Jungkook returns, sounding distracting as you open the door to the bathroom. You peek your head through, noticing Jungkook opening his suitcase on the floor and sorting through it—probably for his own suit.
He must hear the door open, because he looks up towards you. Immediately, his eyes widen as he straightens up into a standing position. “O-Oh wow…” He’s looking you over up and down, up and down, as if he needs to commit this to memory. “Y-You look great. Beautiful.”
“Really?” You stammer back. “Thank you.”
Jungkook keeps his eyes on you as he approaches you. “You needed me to zip you up?”
“O-Oh right, yeah.” Hastily, you turn around, brushing the hair from your back to expose your undone zipper, and your bare back.
You think that he purposely grazes the tips of his fingers against your skin in his process of bringing the zipper up to the top of the fabric. You’re about to turn, thank him, but his hands back at your waist do the gesture for you. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You look really pretty.”
You pout. “You’re being too nice to me.”
Jungkook whines, hugging you close to him. “You’re too cute.” He noses at your temple. “I just wanted to see you smile.” He pulls away after a moment. “Let’s take care of your face, yeah?” He turns around and returns with a small baggy full of ice. “Here, sit down for a second.” He leaves for a second, returning back with a towel. “Maybe… five minutes each eye. I don’t know. I’ll get ready while we’re waiting.”
So he takes his suit out from his case and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with a towel of ice pressed against your eye. The cooling sensation definitely helps with the puffiness.
Jungkook appears from the bathroom a few minutes later—dressed in a black suit with a white button-down and a long skinny black tie. His hair has been fiddled with a little, but he still has that messy, boyish, lovable appearance that makes your heart race.
“Did you switch the towel?”
You nod.
“How do you feel?”
Slowly, you bring the towel down and rest it on your lap. You look at Jungkook. “How do I look?”
He leans forward towards you, holding your chin gently between his fingers. “You look better. Did you need to finish getting ready?”
“Yeah. I just need to touch up my makeup.”
“Okay, go ahead then.”
Jungkook takes the towel, and watches as you make your way back to the bathroom. You’re only gone for a few minutes before you’re emerging once more—eyeshadow a little darker, lashes a little closer, and lips slightly pinker, but overall still looking like the same version of the girl he fell in love with.
The pair of you drive to the wedding venue, a cute brick building with browns, greens, and whites surrounding. Guests already swarm the outside area, some of whom you recognize from college. The sight makes you nervous.
Jungkook sees this, and he reaches over to grab onto your hand. “You can just stick with me, okay?” He smiles. “I’ll protect you.”
You roll your eyes, but you are thankful to have Jungkook as your source of comfort and be that person you could run back to.
He parks and meets you at the front of his car, where you lace fingers and make your way towards the venue. You go through a small round of hellos and ‘nice to finally meet you’ conversations—most notably from Mingyu and Jennie, both of whom light up at the sight of your presence. Contrary to your previous worries, you find that you don’t really need to be so nervous. Mingyu and Jennie are friends of Jungkook’s for a reason—they radiate a relaxing nature that you can tell is what has drawn the three of them to each other.
They ask about you, your college experience, your current experience, passing easy conversation in the ceremony space right before the start of the wedding. It’s fun to see Jungkook joking around with the friends he grew up with, and even more fun to see how easy you are allowed into that world.
The actual wedding ceremony is a blur. You vaguely recognize the extremely attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Seokjin at the head of the aisle. You definitely recognize the equally as attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Irene, downed in white lace and looking much more beautiful than you ever remember her. Vows are exchanged, kisses are shared, there’s an applause, and pictures are taken before the guests are ushered into the main entry room—decked out with a bar and a few scattered seating areas. Jungkook whispers to you that guests are put here temporarily, as the ceremony space is being converted into a dining area.
True to Jungkook’s promise, he lingers by your side most of the night. Although you reassure him that you are fine, you are much more emotionally stable compared to a few hours ago, and that perhaps you are okay catching up with Nayeon—another girl from college, actually someone from the first party you ever attended who defended you when you were receiving unwanted attention—but Jungkook simply tells you that he likes being around you. He likes being able to put his arm around you, likes to rest his hand at your waist, likes people knowing that he has you.
It’s a few more minutes of conversation, of laughter, of old stories being exchanged between people you haven’t seen for years, when the guests are called back into the newly converted dining area. Instead of rows of chairs lined up, there are round tables filling the space. The long panel of doors once closed along the wall of the room have been opened—exposing a gazebo with a D.J. and a dance floor, all encircled by a string of big bright fairy lights.
You and Jungkook are situated at the same table as most of the guests you recognize from college. You assume this is purposefully done to give you all a common ground, and it works because conversations spring easily between you all. Even when you’re not talking about your experiences from university, you’re able to transition from topic to topic. You and Jungkook occasionally talk amongst yourselves as you’re eating, but you sit together and laugh together when Irene and Seokjin emerge and listen in during the wedding toasts.
Finally, Irene and Seokjin make their rounds through the room, stopping at the tables to cheer and laugh and exchange a few words of congratulations and conversation. Following this process, everyone at your table stands on their feet as Irene and Seokjin make their way towards you. There are bright smiles, Irene’s cheerful gasp as she takes in all the guests that have come to join her. She circles your table, hugging every guest, continuing this when she reaches you.
Irene grins at the sight of you. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!”
“I know!” You return, pulling away from Irene. “Congratulations. This wedding is beautiful.”
She beams, absolutely radiating in her white dress and glittering makeup. “Thank you so much for coming! But oh my god, are the rumors true, did you really show up—!” She looks over your shoulder, and grins again. “Jungkook!” She hugs Jungkook. “I should be saying congratulations to the two of you. I was surprised to get the text from Jungkook saying that you guys were coming as each other’s dates. Gave me a whole pain because I had to switch some seats around at the last minute. But anything for my favorite people.” She turns to you and holds onto your arms. “Jungkook has had a crush on you for years, so you’re really doing him a huge favor.”
“Okay, enough,” Jungkook interrupts, scowling. But there is still that playful look in his eyes. “Did all your friends know about this? Jennie knew something was up too when I texted her.”
Irene presses her lips together. “Mingyu might have mentioned something.” She presses her hand to Jungkook’s cheek. “Stay safe, you guys. Hope you enjoy the rest of the night.” She moves onto her next guest.
Jungkook is groaning. “Remind me to never tell Mingyu anything ever again.” He glares at the boy from across the table. “Gonna fling some peanuts at that son of a bitch.”
You laugh, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist. “Oh, let him be. It’s Irene’s wedding. You can get him tomorrow.”
Jungkook pouts, but he does wrap his own arm around your shoulder. “Ah, love my girl—promoting evil behavior after festive events.” He kisses your cheek as your table takes their seats once more.
The good natured atmosphere continues as you and Jungkook down your food, remaining fully engaged in the conversations happening around the table. After another hour of this, the DJ announces the start of the married couple’s first dance. Irene and Seokjin take to the dance floor and spin around, her white dress flowing around the room like light. Underneath the glow of the fairy lights, it looks like the couple is in an entirely new world. And you are so taken by it.
Jungkook does not turn to you until the DJ plays a slow song—a first slow song after a series of upbeat dance and pop genres. He jerks his head towards the dance floor. “You want to dance?”
You take his hand when he offers. “Of course.” He leads you across the room, towards the gazebo, where several other couples have moved to cling to one another. Jungkook pulls you in: one hand on your waist and the other with your own hand. “This is really nice,” You start off.
Jungkook laughs. “The wedding, or the dance?”
You smile over at him. “Both. Being able to slow dance with you, however, is marginally better.”
Jungkook is quiet for a little after that. He seems content just staring at your eyes, taking in the magic of this moment. “Thank you for coming with me,” He starts. “The whole road trip thing. Definitely would not have been as fun if I did all that by myself.”
“Well, thank you for inviting me,” You return. “Even though we had that big misunderstanding. I had a lot of fun.”
“Hey.” Jungkook angles his head a little so he can look at you in the eyes. “You know that I would never hurt you, right? You’re too important to me that I wouldn’t even think to pull some stupid shit like that again. You know that I love you too much to do that to you, right?”
“I do know now,” You say, gazing over at him. “And I love you too.”
You’re not usually an expressive person. But it’s worth saying those words just to see the grin that overtakes Jungkook’s face. It’s worth even more when he leans forward, kissing you openly in front of all his friends, nibbling gently at your bottom lip, running his tongue over the wound, and into your mouth. It’s worth it to have his fingers dusting sweetly over your skin, coaxing your mouth to open to allow exploration.
It feels like worlds pass before Jungkook pulls away, giving you that breathless smile dimple and all, before he’s leaning forward to bury his face into your neck.
“I think the drive home will be fun,” Jungkook mutters softly.
“Hm?” You hum, eyes closed as he presses tiny kisses along your neck.
“Most definitely,” Jungkook says, lifting himself just enough so that his lips hover over your ear lobe. “Because I plan on fucking you in every hotel bed for the rest of the trip.”
You feel your heart race, your cheeks heat. Yes, this was definitely worth it.
#jungkook scenarios#jungkook scenario#jungkook fluff#jungkook x y/n#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#bts scenarios#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts imagines#bts angst#traci writes
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Klaus Mikaelson x Teenage!daughter Reader
Disclaimer: I have only watched episode one of The originals, but I am fascinated by these gorgeous people, therefore I will write!
Ps. English is not my first language so sorry for the mistakes.
Ps. Sorry for any mistakes I made within the storyline as well as the bashing hope. I don't dislike the character, I simply live for fiction drama and angst.
Summary: Reader is Klaus daughter and twin to Hope Mikaelson. Reader is human and a rebels againts her family for treating her like an outsider. She is always overlooked until a certain thing happens that changes the family dynamics.
Tw: Negligence, Kidnapping, Violence, Blood, mental health issues.
Stranger
(Y/N's pov)
I woke up to the sound of my alarm, sighing I reluctantly got out of bed to get dressed and ready for the day. I took a quick shower and got dressed in my gray sweatpants and a tucked in black skin tight sweater. My hair was causually hanging down my back and I couldn't be bother to comb through it. Lazily walking down the steps and into the kitchen, I froze once I saw everyone sitting and talking, never once acknowledging my presence. This was what I was used to. Being a ghost in the background. I cast a quick glance to my sister Hope to see the presents surrounding her and a smile gracing her features. I can't renember a single time anyone has remembered my birthday... the irony of it all was that it was on the exact same day as Hope's, yet mine was never acknowledged. I hated birthsdays with a passion. It reminded me of everything I wanted but couldn't have. Then again it was my fault for being born a human after all. I wasn't perfect or powerful like Hope, therefore I was nothing more than a burden. I've heard it numerous times growing up whenever I made a mistake. Broke a glass accidentally, useless. Got a bad grade, worthless. Asking questions about my first period, annoying. After a while of trying to prove that I am just as valuable as Hope, I gave up. What's the point when nobody ever gave me the time of day. Walking out of the kitchen just as they begun to sing that horrible song a memory hit me that left me with a dull pain I had long since gotten used to.
It happened on our 6th birthday party. All of hope's friend had been invited to the party and I was left watching from the shadows as nobody wanted to play with me. When the time came to blow out the candles I had taken my seat next to Hope. After the song I proceeded to blow out the candles only to have Hope in a screaming/crying fit and me being scolded and grounded for celebrating OUR party.
I vowed never to attend any family function after that. In fact I vowed never to get close to anyone as I believe that everybody will only cause me pain. Growing up I learned a lot through the internet or books I had found lying around the house. I even started practicing magic by the age of 8 and now in my 17th year of life I am proud enough to acknowledge that I am better than most average witches. Walking out the door I left for the only place that brought me comfort during my teenage years. It was an old abandoned barn on the outskirts of New Orleans. It was quite the walk but I never minded as it cleared my mind of the darkness that it possesed. I had found this barn after a rather ridiculous argument with my parents.
Hope had just burts into my room to yell at me for talking to her school crush. Calling me names I have already grown accustomed to. I sat calm and collected as I listened to her raging on about how she was prettier and how he will never fall for me. I never once reacted until she said the one thing she knew I always craved. "You know, I find it quite pathetic how you keep trying to fight for their attention", she said while laughing eerily, "They will never deem you good enough to be their daughter, you are just a worthless, powerless, weak disposable human." Before I could even comprehend what had happened, Hope was laying across the floor, unconscious with cuts littering her flesh and she was bleeding profoundly. My parents immediately rushed into the room as they heard the ruckus. They were at her side in an instant trying to heal her. Sitting on the bed dazed at what just happend I hadn't realized that mother was in front of me until I felt a sting on my cheek. The whole family had witnessed what just happend but paid no mind as they rushed to help Hope. The moment hope was out, my father had came after me and lashed out. They left me on the ground, my body littered in bruises, their final words being that if I ever pulled something like that again, they would dispose of me in an instant.
That was 5 years ago, but the pain of their words was still fresh. Like an open wound that will never heal. I ran away that night and found this barn which I made my home for 3 nights before Uncle Elijah found me and gave me lecture on the importance of family and willed me to come back home. Ever since things changed. I was only ever at home when I needed to eat or sleep. I managed to drop out of school when I turned 14. After removing myself from every social setting the mikaelson family could provide, life seemed to have picked up. I made some friends that came from similar situations as my own and they would join me at the barn and we would end up spending the night, drinking, smoking, laughing causing all types of trouble during the late hours in town. I finally felt like I belonged. Finally after a long walk I walking into the barn only to find my friends all standing around with a present in each hand and a small cake on a nearby table. To say I was shocked was an understatement. "What is all of this?" I asked perplexed. "Celebrating! Of course" came the reply from (y/f/n). I immediately ran into their arms. The amount of love I had for these 4 people was unconditional and I would probably lose my mind if something had to happen to any of them.
Unbeknownst to me, a certain hybrid had witnessed it all and soon after my reign of happiness would come to an end.
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GQ MEXICO - PEDRO PASCAL 2021
It seems that Pedro Pascal is in all possible universes. Here and there. In the past, in the present, and in galaxies far, far away. Today, the actor is considered the great entertainment reference and one of those in charge of saving a franchise that seemed lost. Enough reasons to talk exclusively about discipline, gastronomy, creeds and how he traumatized his father in 30 seconds.
The RAE defines 'creed' as the set of ideas, principles or convictions of a person or a group. For example, by creed, one can leave his country and be in exile. It happens that one can leave the loved one behind. Or simply live in another reality. And also one can put on a helmet to pretend never to take it off again. If that is the path to follow, the creed says that it must be done with the profession of faith and without stopping to look. Turning the pages of the script for The Mandalorian , the Disney + series that revived passion and nostalgia for the Star Wars franchise , Pedro Pascal came across this definition in every dialogue and moment, and reflection carved his way.
More than two decades have passed since the Chilean-American, Pedro Pascal, began his acting career and today, named as the great reference of 2020 , he misses the theater and it still hurts him not to have the discipline to exercise and maintain a diet sana while acknowledging the irony of having the best year of her career in the midst of one of the worst in recent history. But even in physical solitude, the man who carried the best-selling Christmas baby rescues many positive things and shares his vision of the universes he has traveled through, his passion for distant galaxies and how to traumatize your family with a simple scene of TV. In an interview, the Mandalorian of Latinamerica.
IMDB named you the 2020 benchmark in entertainment, a year in which the world took refuge in fiction. How was living your best time locked up and what do you rescue on a human level from it?
The strength of family relationships and friendship. For them, we endure this physical loneliness. I do find it ironic that in 2020 I received projects so well received by the public, although they were carried out before the pandemic and their impact was during it, and that year I was isolated and alone. But I must emphasize that this loneliness is a privilege when many people had to continue working, surviving and maintaining the functioning of the world. We only had to be alone, but they more than that and you must value it too.
Among the activities you have missed, how much do you miss the theater?
Much indeed. It's something that I miss the most and being with people without being afraid. See a play and return to those experiences of being with people doing and living things in common. That is what I need most, in addition to my loved ones.
Disney fully entered streaming and its strong letter has your face, what do you think of the discussion of platforms against movie theaters?
There are incredible things in streaming and many people develop great projects that they did not have access to before. The diversity of voices is gaining ground and it is important to recognize that opportunities grow exponentially and boundaries change. It is incredible the availability that we have to very well made content and how creative people can share their work in different ways. But I also want to be honest: limiting the experience of watching content only on our gadgets or at home is a mistake that affects the stories we can tell. You have to achieve a mix of opportunities and challenges.
You jump between the fictional universes that mark the last decades until you reach the universe of universes. What is your first Star Wars memory and how do you summarize the essence of this legendary story?
For me, Star Wars is nostalgia itself. It is one of the primary things in my memory, of my childhood. I came to the United States with my Chilean family when I was less than two years old and one of my first memories is going to the movies with my dad to see the saga ; it becomes one of those romantic childhood things that opens your mind, so imagine how special it is to participate in this project. I think the creators of The Mandalorian perfectly understand this nostalgia and that power, and they managed to count on that element as a great ally for the world of Star Wars and I couldn't be happier to be part of it. (From which we expect the third season The Mandalorian)
The Mandalorian exploits the power and nuances of your voice, did you have that letter on your resume?
I didn't know I could do it, but I resorted to my theater preparation, which was very physical on all levels and feelings. There are elements that have to do with and that are essential to create a role, and they teach you that the voice is something primary, something you have to start with and you cannot hide. Now I have learned much more about the importance of that, and how to use it economically. The body also has to do with that, because something very subtle communicates something. In The Mandalorian , I had a great time figuring out how to do it, they gave me the opportunity to develop it in different ways. The opportunity to be very intense at it.
What happens to the ego when someone works under a suit and a mask?
In the conversations about the project, before doing it, we were communicated the idea and the concept of the entire season , so I clearly understood what it was. I wanted it to be the most powerful version of what they were trying to accomplish, so there was no point in involving my ego, you know? It was already very clear what the project meant, so I knew about the character , the piece that it represented for him and the opportunity that it was for me, so I was only focused on executing in a better way the part that touched me in everything this. In the theater, I worked several times under a mask and it helped me develop the experience.
It seems that The Mandalorian has a very theatrical base ...
Exactly, and thanks to the physical experience of working in theater, doing a play a few times a week, discovering how your body and your voice communicate , being part of a whole image, and how you will tell that story visually, I achieved this character. I never imagined that it would be something I would have to use on such an important Star Wars project .
On the list of entertainment greats, there are names like Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, do you think John Favreau should be added to the list?
I think your name is already included. Without a doubt, it is in that category and it is incredible. His vision fascinates me. I remember an episode in the second season , and I had some boots and I walked so much in the snow, it stuck to them. He figured it out, so he talked to the art department about the kind of boots you need when you're out in the snow. They approached me and gave me new ones that fulfilled the idea I was looking for. He noticed it in an instant. It is such a wonderful detail and it is repeated to scale in every session with him. He thinks of absolutely everything and his vision of the use of technology is admirable. He is someone who makes you feel motivated and always sees how to achieve the goal.
One of the reflections in the series is on how and under what circumstances a man can break his creed and way of life. What makes you break with your beliefs?
I think that you must follow your heart so as not to regret anything; Although sometimes it brings pain or conflict, deep down when you look back, everything is worth it because it was what you heard in your heart. I am very afraid to deny that feeling or not to attend to it. I am 45 years old now and I cannot believe I have a finer philosophy. Make it more disciplined. It's ridiculous, but I'm trying to accept that I am and it's all I can say, "follow your heart." Although, you know, I'm not on a good diet yet, I still have trouble sleeping or exercising.
Still good at Chilean empanadas?
Yes, I couldn't stop. And also how good that I do not live in Mexico City because I would only spend it eating. I could move my whole life to defe just to eat.
I want to deviate and ask you, with whom did you see the chapter of your death in Game of Thrones and what traumas did you cause in your family?
For me, no trauma. I separate myself well from the characters , although I fully understand that if I were a Game of Thrones audience and loved that character, it would make an incredible impression on me. Thank you that it was not. I had to interpret it and there was a model of my head to be crushed that way with the tubes and the fake blood, you know? Me lying there, with pieces of my meat, it was funny in the end. But not for my family. For them there is nothing funny but traumatic. My dad's voice changed completely when we saw the episode, he turned around and said: “I didn't like it, Pedro . No, Pedro , not this ”.
The media found similarities between your villain in Wonder Woman: 1984 and Donald Trump. When playing a character with characteristics like this, do you humanize him or do you understand him?
The project had nothing to do with the former president. They always told me that my character in Wonder Woman: 1984 was emotionally messy, and I took that and took that as far as possible. Instead of creating it with images or certain inspirations from life, it was more to work with what was on the page. Personally, what made sense to me is the size of the story that is being told and there is always more, and we all want more. Creatively, if this makes sense, that meant "blowing her out of the park." Connect a hit with the character and be committed to telling his story faithfully, in a way that was true to me. So all the exterior elements found their way.
What a way to start 2021 with the theme of the Capitol ... How do you perceive that moment?
I am not a politician and it is not that I do not have an opinion about this type of event; however, it is not necessary to state the obvious. My opinion would be very simple compared to that of a person who studied this, who knows how to act in these kinds of scenarios; I believe that I am next to the majority who experienced this, which is the logical result of what we have experienced during these years and we are all horrified . It was distressing to see this violence.
If you had the monolith in your hands, what would your wish be?
My wish would be… it's impossible, really (laughs). I think it is to be together again, with less fear and that people have the opportunity to connect.
What is your position on the reality that Chile has experienced in recent years and how has the relationship with your country been since exile?
It is something that I am developing and I continue to do in my life, trying to understand that it is my home. To be in Chile is to be at home, but my life has been very nomadic, living different things and having many influences; so it is strange, I do not feel with the title of a complete Chilean identity nor with an American one.
Neither here nor there?
In a sense, but I'm also completely both. My parents are Chilean , my brothers were born there before my parents traveled, and I came back sometimes because my family is very large; in fact, my parents came back. It has always been there, it continues to develop, and it will be a part of me. I don't know if it answers your question, but it has a lot to do with who I am.
What is your relationship with Latin American cinema? Are you interested?
Much, it has invaded me in life like American cinema. The movies that I carry in my heart, seeing something like Y tu mama was also something that changed me; I also love the work that comes out of Chile , and the only thing I can say is that it is a cinema that needs more access and projects.
Today you have a comedy with Nicolas Cage on the door, can you tell us something?
It's my first shot at comedy , as a complete story within the genre. Speaking of American influences , in the 80s I saw all the films where Nicolas Cage appeared , he came into my life and it's great to be his partner after seeing all his performances.
How is the relationship you have with the comedy genre?
I love it, I have done a lot of comedy in the theater, what happens is that in film and television issues , I was always part of drama castings . And in the cinema, you go where the doors open; Although I identify with one or the other, I think that being an actor , one goes and does what one has to do. Comedy is something unique, it is very challenging because it must be very real to be funny, you cannot hide or use normal tricks. I was very excited to have this challenge in front of a camera.
Finally, Pedro, after going through so many fictional worlds, literally, what do you dream about when you sleep?
I dream that my bathroom is dirty, that I haven't done my math homework, that the oven is on and all that stuff. Sure, there are times when I close my eyes and see myself in all these projects , although my conscience is with the anxieties of the day that you can imagine.
Without a doubt, Pedro Pascal is a particular type .
English Tranlation: Google Translate
SOURCE: GQ MEXICO
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Fifty-Six part 3 | Feysand
Okay last one, the smut finale. There's still no plot, blame @asteria-of-mars it's her birthday and this is what she asked for 🤪
Part 1 Part 2
Chapter 3: Return of the King
After that, Feyre suggested they not have males in the house for a while, and Rhys grudgingly agreed. Feyre had Mor around to help with the map she was making, and Rhys was writing a letter on the other side of the library.
The peace lasted for all of twenty minutes, until Mor said “Oh, Feyre you’ve got an ink smudge on your cheek.” Feyre swiped at her face. “No, not there, it’s… never mind, I got it.” Mor licked her thumb and rubbed the offending mark. And Rhys was shoving her bodily out of the room.
“Oh come on!” Mor wailed at the closed door. She thumped her fist against the wood, before storming out grumbling under her breath. Rhys did not get their clothes completely off before he was fucking Feyre against the door.
Amren, of course, refused to be Rhys’s next victim.
“No,” she had said flatly when they asked.
“I need exposure therapy!” Rhys said. “I’m sure I can get this bond thing under control.”
“And he wouldn’t dare mess with you,” Feyre added.
“Boy, get this through your head. You’re newly mated, and you can’t be around other people right now. So go hole up in the townhouse or the cabin or wherever you people live, and call me when your brain is functional.” Rhys opened his mouth, but Amren cut him off. “Until then, stop forcing us to be around all this lovey-dovey, over-possessive, hyper-hormonal shit. Now get the fuck off my doorstep.”
So they winnowed home, and when they got to their bedroom Feyre turned and stared at Rhys with her arms folded.
“Don’t say it,” Rhys warned.
“I told you!” Feyre yelled.
“I said don’t say it,” her mate sulked.
“I told you you weren’t ready!”
“You did.”
“I told you we should have stayed at the cabin another week!”
“Yes.”
“And now our friends won’t have a bar of us!”
“No.”
“Well??”
“Well, don’t stand there and pretend like I’m the only one affected by this thing!”
Feyre stared at him. “I might be affected, but at least I still have some semblance of self-control.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
Rhys stiffened all over, and a mask Feyre had not seen for a long time settled itself over his lovely features. The air cooled so fast it took her breath away a little.
“Is that so?” Rhys asked. Dangerously soft.
“Of course,” Feyre said, but it did not come out as certain as she wanted it to. She wasn’t quite sure what was happening yet.
Rhys put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to one side. There was a steely glint in his eyes, and for a minute Feyre wondered whether she had made him angry. She felt the bond to see if she could get a better reading on him, but all that came back was a dark and pulsing energy.
Rhys walked slowly toward her, and Feyre found herself backing away.
“You’re perfectly in control, are you darling?” he asked. Feyre gasped and put her hands out as her back hit a wall. Rhys was now towering over her, power and shadows coiling around him like black smoke. He lifted a hand, and his fingertips were onyx talons. He hooked the claw of his index finger in Feyre’s neckline, and dragged it downward, tearing fabric like it was paper. All the way to her navel. Feyre shivered as the air hit her bare skin. Rhys bent his head and ghosted his lips along the shell of her ear. “Shall we test that theory, you and I?”
Rhys's gaze traveled down her torn dress and back up to her lips, and Feyre felt the hot line of it searing her skin. He moved his head, inches from hers, and she thought he might kiss her but instead he just moved a curl behind her ear. Feyre's heart beat fast, half willing him to touch her and half willing him to let her go.
And then he leaned in and took soft, slow, sucking bites: behind her ear lobe, against the side of her throat, in the hollow at the base of her neck, in between her breasts. As he did so, his hand slid up her thigh, and he stroked her softly through her underwear. Feyre whimpered. His free hand landed on the wall above her head, and now he was watching her with eyes that burned as the fingers between her legs moved lightly up and down. Made small circles against the cotton. Feyre let out a shuddering breath, and sank down a little further, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze but unable to look away.
Rhys stood up straight again, leaning his forearms on the wall either side of her face and her thighs clenched together at the loss of contact. “Now, Feyre darling,” he said. His breath blew against her face like an ocean breeze, and Feyre's eyes glazed over. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he watched her. “I know you’re rather new around here, but I’m going to have to teach you a lesson in control.”
Without warning, Rhys ducked down and picked Feyre up under the thighs. She yelped and grabbed a hold of his shoulders, and Rhys put her down on the bed. Smoothed her limbs down, then vanished her ruined dress with a thought.
“So,” Rhys said. He lay beside her, ankles crossed and propped up on his elbow. He trailed a finger from the tip of her nose, over her lips, all the way down her sternum. “Since you are so unaffected by this bond of ours, and I am nought but a wastrel of a male buffeted by the tides of my desire, you can demonstrate for me the virtues of self-restraint.” Rhys lifted her arms above her head. “You’re going to keep your hands there, until I say you can move them. And if you don't I'll tie you up so you can't. Think you can manage that, my sweet?”
Feyre lifted her chin. “Of course,” she said. This game was new. But she was fairly certain that after the way Rhys had been behaving all week, she could take him.
“Good girl,” Rhys purred, and then his finger kept moving, down her stomach, circling around but not touching her clit, and then deep inside her. Feyre moaned. “I do love you naked,” he said. “Laid out on the bed for me like this. Already dripping for me. Mine to play with.”
“And you?” Feyre panted. She eyed his jacket meaningfully.
“Why Feyre darling, this is an exquisite suit. I think I’ll keep it on for now.” And he started moving his hand, adding his thumb over her clit. Feyre’s eyes rolled back as his free hand cupped her left breast, and his closed his mouth over her right. His tongue flicked over her nipple in time with the movement of his fingers, and Feyre started to unravel under his touch.
“Oh and Feyre?” Rhys said, lifting his face but speeding his fingers.
“Mmmm?”
“You’re not to come unless I tell you.”
Feyre’s eyes popped open at that, and she opened her mouth to protest but then he curled his fingers, pressing hard against the most sensitive spot inside her and she had to bite down hard on her lip not to climax on the spot.
“Good girl,” Rhys said again, and that was it. She was going to obey. She would earn his praise, and prove him wrong, and win the game.
If you don’t want to play anymore, a soft voice said in her mind. Just say ‘sunrise.’ And I’ll stop and take care of you. Feyre nodded, and bucked her hips into his hand.
Rhys chuckled, and put his lips on her pussy. Sucked her clit into his mouth while his fingers worked inside her, and she could feel herself soak his hand. Rhys confirmed it when he groaned against her. “So fucking wet,” he murmured. “Give it all to me honey.” The vibration of his groan traveled all the way up her spine, and his free hand smoothed up toward her neck. He gripped her throat, just lightly, just enough to hold her down on the bed. And then squeezed harder when it made her moan. Her hands, remaining above her head, curled around the top edge of the mattress.
“Is that good, love?” Rhys asked her.
“Yes,” Feyre mouthed. “Yes, yes, so good….”
“You taste perfect, do you know that?” Rhys said, before rubbing the flat of his tongue fast against her clit. Feyre cried out, release bursting before her eyes- and Rhys withdrew. Took his hands and his mouth off her and she was mewling and writhing on the bed.
“You weren’t going to come, were you darling?” Rhys asked, head cocked to one side.
“Nnn… no,” she stuttered.
“Because we had an agreement,” he went on. “And you have such control as to not be trifled with a little orgasm delay. Right?”
Feyre nodded, her eyes closed and her hips still searching for him.
“Good,” he said. “Say, is rather warm in here, don’t you think?”
Rhys stood and, very casually, removed his jacket, taking care to drape it carefully over an arm chair. Then he stood at the end of the bed and took off his shirt, taking his time over the buttons while Feyre watched him like a starveling.
“Roll over on your stomach,” he said, and she did so. Rhys hummed his approval. “There’s that beautiful ass,” he said. He dropped to his knees at the end of the bed, and squeezed his hands over her backside. “No one has an ass like yours, darling dear.” While he kneaded her flesh, he tugged her back toward him and started eating her out from behind. Feyre moaned his name, and was rewarded with a deep push of his tongue inside of her. Meanwhile, one of his hands wandered down to the seam of her, and his thumb rubbed against her asshole. Feyre cried out at the new sensation, and her hands scrabbled at the sheets in front of her. She rocked her hips on his tongue, and tried to tilt her pelvis to get friction on her clit, too.
It was all so much. It was delicious. The pleasure curled tight in her belly as the three pressure points collided, and she was lost, lost in the swirling heat and honey and…
And then nothing at all as Rhys pulled back yet again. Feyre cried out in disappointment so sharp it almost hurt, and Rhys clicked his tongue.
“Now now dove, you’re not even trying to hold back.” He spanked her hard across the backside and stars burst before her eyes. “Where’s that self-control I’ve heard so much about?”
Rhys sat on the edge of the bed and kicked his boots off. “Roll back over and keep those hands up.” He removed the rest of his clothes, folding them equally neatly with the jacket. When he turned back to Feyre, she couldn’t help it. She looked down at his hips. At the rock hard length of him. Rhys grinned toothily.
“Oh, so that’s what you want,” he said, like it was only just occurring to him. He knelt on the bed, straddling her waist. “But darling you promised me. You won’t come until I say.” Feyre nodded.
“I won’t,” she whispered. Rhys smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip gently.
“I know,” he said. And then pushed two fingers into her mouth. Feyre sucked hard on them as he dragged then back past her lips and then reached behind to touch his wet fingers to her still-throbbing clit. Feyre lifted her hips to his touch, relieved that the contact had returned. Then with his free hand Rhys guided his cock to her lips.
Feyre licked at the head of him, reaching all that she could with her hands still above her head. Rhys groaned slowly, moved the tip of his cock back and forth over her tongue while the fingers between her legs slid inside of her. Feyre craned her neck to try and take more of him into her mouth, and was gratified when Rhys’s eyes slid closed momentarily and he moved his hips to slide further in. Feyre’s grip on the mattress tightened, fighting the urge to wrap her hand around around the base of him. Instead, she tried to move her head back and forth, range of motion very limited in this position. Rhys’s hand cupped the back of her head and held her up while he started fucking into her mouth, his fingers in her pussy speeding up at the same time, so she was being filled twice over. Rhys added another finger, and ground the heel of his palm against her clit while she sucked him off, and this time when her climax built, Feyre clamped down hard on it.
She tried to concentrate on swirling her tongue around Rhys’s head, focusing on his pleasure instead of hers. But when he moaned her name, she found herself in deeper peril than before.
“Cauldron fuck, Feyre,” Rhys groaned. “You feel incredible around my cock. Just wanna keep fucking your pretty mouth like this until I come,” he said. “Can you take more? Can I fuck your throat a little?” Rhys pushed further in and Feyre’s eyes watered, but she took it. “Fuck yes, Feyre. So good. So good taking my cock like this.”
She wanted him to come first. Surely if he came then she would be allowed to. But the dirty talk was turning her on like crazy, and she tried to hold her hips still to cool some of the heat off. Rhys was having none of that. He pushed a third finger inside her, and the sudden stretch pushed her over the edge. Feyre tried to hide it, but couldn’t stop her body from clenching and shaking beneath him.
Quick as a flash, Rhys had gotten off her, rolled her over and slapped her hard on the ass. Feyre gasped and sobbed as her climax was cut off.
“You wicked thing!” Rhys scolded. He sat down the edge of the bed and dragged her face down so her ass was across his lap, and then landed a spank with each word of his next sentence. “Didn’t- I- tell- you- not- to- come!” And then a final slap sang out right over her desperate pussy. Feyre cried out, and tears filled her eyes as her skin was shot through with electricity all over. She was over-sensitised everywhere; the air was too cold between her legs and the sheets were too rough on her skin.
“Rhys please!” Feyre screamed.
“Oh please is it?” Rhys asked, incensed. “You deliberately disobey instructions and now you’re asking for favours?” He rubbed circles against her clit, but then as she lifted her hips, spanked her pussy again.
"Oh! No don't- please, please Rhys please," she blurted as she was left cold yet again.
He slid out from under her, then pulled her hips up again so she was on all fours. “Fine,” he said coldly, and then lay on his back with his head between her knees. Pushed down on her lower back and held her there so that her pussy was in his face, and then sucked hard against her clit.
But it was too much now, she wanted him to touch her but needed him to slow down.
“Not so much,” she gasped. Rhys ignored her, moved his fingers inside her again at an alarming pace while he continued to suckle against her clit. Feyre’s elbows gave and she dropped to her forearms. Her body had started to shake now, and Rhys's tongue was relentless.
“You’ll take what you’re given,” Rhys said. He gave her a cruel smile. “Since you wanted it so badly, pet.” Underneath her, he slid up the bed to take her nipple in his teeth. She was dragged down his body, and felt him absolutely everywhere. The sensation piled up, and Feyre was falling apart at the seams. His tongue rolled the hardened point like he had her clit, and all the while his fingers pumped inside her. Feyre tried to move but he held her tight against his body.
Rhys pushed up again, and now he was shoving her hips down against his and grinding his hard length against her. She was coating him with her wetness, clenching everything as her pussy was slid over and over the ridges of him but not where she needed it. The tip of an index finger pushed into her ass, and his other hand was sliding along her scalp to fist in her hair. His nails scratched that back of her head, and Feyre didn’t know what feeling was coming from where, couldn’t find focus, couldn't stop shivering.
“Too much,” she gasped. “Please, please Rhys.”
“What do you need, honey?” Rhys asked. He continued to slide his cock up and down her bare, drenched pussy while her eyes rolled in her head. “You need to be fucked?” Feyre couldn’t even manage to nod. “You need to come?” Feyre just wept while she tried to hold her body up over Rhys’s. “Mating bond a little rough there, is it darling?”
“Yes,” Feyre babbled. “Yes, it hurts, I need you, please oh fuck please...”
“You know, you look gorgeous undone,” Rhys crooned, and then he rolled them over, grabbed a hold of her hips and slammed his cock into her, again and again and again, fucking her hard and fast like maybe, just maybe he had been torturing himself a little, too.
"Holy fuck," he groaned. "Fuck you're perfect, perfect and mine."
But Feyre didn't hear him. She was stretched and filled and the didn't know anything except for the pounding repeating and repeating. Her vision blacked out and the pleasure exploded behind her eyelids, and the unbearable pressure finally ignited, pulling her right off the bed with its force. By the time Rhys was coming too, Feyre’s screams had gotten so high they’d lost their sound, and all that could be heard was her name falling off Rhys’s lips as he shuddered his climax.
Feyre lay, completely spent and near comatose on the bed. Rhys pressed reverent kisses to her lips, her chest, her stomach.
“You can come now,” he said, voice sparkling with amusement. Feyre was going to roll he eyes, but then he kissed her slowly right over the clit and to her great surprise, she actually came again on his lips. Just a little.
When she had come down, she was sure she was dead. Rhys pulled her into his arms and kissed the back of her shoulder.
“Okay,” she mumbled. “Maybe I don’t have any self control either.” Rhys chuckled into her neck.
“It’s okay love,” he said. “We’ll work on it.” He slid a hand behind her head and gently massaged her there. “Besides,” he said. “I’m pretty sure we’ve been given orders to stay home and fuck.”
Feyre laughed, but winced as it tugged at her exhausted muscles.
“Oh poor darling,” Rhys said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Was I little rough with you?” His free hand stroked soothingly over her flank.
“Yes,” Feyre sighed. “It was divine.”
“I love you,” Rhys whispered, and then sleep claimed her.
****
And that's the end. Just had to squeeze in some of Liz's favourite CoN!Rhys for the final chapter there, and yes I am a cheeseball and named this chapter after Liz's *other* love. I rather like the idea of king of the nightmare court, don't you? Happy birthday darling xxx
MASTERLIST
TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems
#feysand#feysand fic#acotar#liz's birthday present#oh so much smut#the most smut i think i've ever written in one go#what if i've used up all my smut?#i think i should be banned now#anyway happy birthday angel!!
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Comfortably Numb. Yan Chrollo x Reader [COMM]
warnings: mentions of anxiety, just general uneasiness.
word count: 2.6k.
Home is where the heart is.
It’s meant to be the sanctuary where you can unwind after a long day of work, dress in your most comfortable pajamas, and feel no qualms for the opinions of others. A safe haven of your own making. Granted, there was a time that you felt this way, no matter how long ago it seems. A coveted period of your life that you wish you could return back to. On a surface level, any onlooker might take a glance at you and think you are as normal as they are. If only that were the truth, you bitterly lament.
Now, what do you need to check on next? Milk is in good supply, not set to expire anytime soon. Hm… can’t say the same for the fruit. You jostle down some of your favorites onto the ever growing grocery list. What else is there? You’ve got to be missing something. Standing on your tiptoes, you open the overheard cabinet, that is now noticeably more barren than it used to be. The bags of tea that had once populated this area have vanished, all but a lonesome pack of matcha. Huffing, you close the cabinet doors, ready to voice your irritation.
Pivoting on your heel, you look over the kitchen counter and towards the occupied living room. “You drank all my tea?”
“Not at all of it,” your unwelcome guest corrects, much to your displeasure. “Besides, you never said I couldn’t have any.”
You raise an eyebrow at this conjecture. Who would’ve thought him a stickler for semantics. “Yeah, well, I never said you could have it either.”
“That’s a fair enough point. I’ll be sure to reimburse you for it later.” Chrollo ends the conversation before it even begins. His attention returns to his original activity of reading, freely helping himself to yet another one of your belongings. An exhausted sigh leaves your lips at the sight. If you somehow make it out of this situation unscathed, you may take on a more pious lifestyle, having survived way more than you should’ve. It’s a wonder that Chrollo hasn’t seen fit to strike you down where you stand. Where you lack self-restraint in the verbal department, you make up for it in your overall composure. Surely anyone else would’ve been crushed under the immense pressure of having a murderer crashing at their apartment.
That’s just about the best way to describe it, you think. How desensitized do you have to be to no longer shiver at the thought? In all fairness, Chrollo himself is treating this as the most ordinary arrangement in the world. At his own leisure he’ll start conversations with you, inquire about your day, and even offer insight that you never asked for. It’s gotten to the unfortunate point that you’re even starting to do the same. Treating him more as a peculiar roommate than the threat he truly is, though it could be your way of coping. That’s the explanation you’re going with.
Chrollo puts a bookmark into his read, and places it aside. “Is there anything you’d like for dinner?”
He asks the question as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Your normally schooled expression is broken, lips parting and eyebrows furrowing together. Is he being serious right now? There’s no way to tell for certain. Not on a lack of trying from your behalf, his countenance never hints at his innermost thoughts. You get the feeling what little Chrollo does reveal to you is intentional. How creepy.
“I was just planning on warming up leftovers,” you accentuate this by opening your fridge. On the shelves sits lentil soup, apples, and some protein yogurts. Shit. “Scratch that. I’ll be settling for yogurt instead.”
“You had that for breakfast, if memory serves.” Chrollo points out, as if you’re incapable of remembering that yourself. It’s odd that he feels the need to pay attention to every detail about you. How often is Chrollo observing you without you taking notice? You push the thought aside with a frown.
“What are you, my hostage-taker and nutritionist? Besides, this is what I like to call a struggle meal. Or, meals, technically. I’ll go shopping tomorrow to make up for it.” You grimace while picking up the gourmet cuisine for tonight. Strawberry cheesecake flavor. It’s better with stuff added to it for texture, but this’ll have to do. It’s doubtful someone who is hiding a stolen merchandise worth hundreds of thousands can empathize with your position. Not that it matters if Chrollo Lucilfer holds you in high regard, with all the blood on his hands. He’s got no room to judge.
“Hm, in the time we’ve spent together, I never considered you as dense,” he gets up from his seat, making his way towards the kitchen. You don’t get a word in edgewise before your dinner is plucked from your hands. Chrollo places it back in the fridge, while you stare at him with a slackened jaw. “I’m offering to buy you food, [First].”
How considerate of him to spell it out for you.
“Appreciative as I am for your gesture of goodwill, I’ll pass. I don’t want to be indebted to you.” You make for the fridge once again, scowling as he holds it shut with unnatural force. Damn, he’s strong. Maybe you’re playing with fire by provoking him, considering the power imbalance, but your tongue is faster than your brain. Both a blessing and a curse. Leaning more towards the latter, you muse.
“I insist. It’s only right that I repay you somehow, for allowing me to stay here. You wouldn’t be indebted to me.” Chrollo’s smile never reaches his eyes, you notice. Standing here in close proximity to him, there’s a lot more you can pick up on. Every little detail of his disposition is intentional. From his even keel tone, to his polite speech, and way of acting like you have any say in the matter. You’re all bark and no bite. Both of you are keenly aware of this, and still he talks to you as if he’s none the wiser. It’s demeaning in its own right.
“I guess it is sacrilegious to turn down free food. Alright, you win.” You throw your hands up in mock defense. This uncomfortable interaction helped you remember the position you’re in, how every breath might be your last. He’s broken into your residence, forced you to hide him from encroaching hunters, and made your past ten days a living hell. It was the threats to your loved ones that ultimately earned your compliance.
You can’t help the self deprecation that’s followed since that day. The law is what you’re supposed to be protecting, not protecting criminals from. Going to the station everyday with the knowledge that you’re harboring such a dangerous criminal is weighing heavily on your soul. Life sure is full of the worst ironies. Had it not been an A class bounty, you may have stood a chance.
Chrollo reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out one of his many burner phones. “You’re being more agreeable than I expected, if I’m being honest.”
“What can I say? I become a bit of a yes man when my life is being threatened.” You respond with an empty smile of your own. Instead of earning any ire from him, he lets out an airy chuckle, of dubious sincerity. Whether it’s at you or with you is difficult to decipher. He pulls up a food delivery app, showing you the options. This was all prepared in advance, he must’ve taken the time to download it. So it wasn’t a spur of the moment decision to mess with you?
“Y-you’re really letting me pick?” There’s no hiding your incredulous tone of voice. This series of events is far too bizarre to fathom, like a nightmare stepping into reality. Just a week ago you were contemplating how to poison Chrollo without him taking notice. Now you’re ordering food together. There has to be an ulterior motive lurking around, your gut won’t tell you otherwise.
He tilts his head at your apprehension, and repeats himself. “That’s what I said, yes.”
Fuck it. When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, or so the saying goes. You’ve suffered enough at Chrollo’s hands, it wouldn’t hurt to make the most of it. You take the cheap phone from his hands, scrolling through the options, and realizing now just how wonderful the variety of food sounds. Working up an appetite hasn’t come naturally with your uninvited guest skulking about. He has enough prepaid visa cards to cover what you want, so you hold nothing back.
After returning his phone to him, you can’t help but throw an additional sarcastic comment in. It’s second nature at this point. “Happy now?”
“Very much so,” Chrollo doesn’t mention your indignation, eyes raking over your expansive order. It’s not until he gets to the end that he quirks an eyebrow. “... A one hundred dollar tip?”
“Feel free to add some extra zeros to the end of that. It’s not binary code for ‘help me, there’s a criminal in my apartment’, if you’re worried about that.”
He hums in consideration. “I can’t say that came to mind.”
“Shit, looks like I went ahead and busted my own master plan.” Your response is notably dry. A headache is already in the works, courtesy of speaking to Chrollo for too long. He never fails to keep you on your toes. For all the sardonic remarks you make at his expense, anxiety has never stopped plaguing you. It’s a miracle that your heart is still functioning properly. You don’t even know why you ordered the absurd amount that you did, other than from pure spite, since your stomach is churning too much to want to eat. Maybe that’ll change when the food shows up. If not, your co-workers are going to be in for quite a treat tomorrow.
You return to your newfound favorite activity of ignoring Chrollo, busying yourself with anything that comes in sight. Watering your plants, putting mugs from the dishwasher away, menial stuff that keeps you busy. A new feat lies in your wake. Whoever designed this apartment didn’t do so with you in mind, your larger plates just barely out of reach. Not willing to concede to using a chair just yet, you keep up the gallant attempt, stretching as far as your body allows. Your fingertips graze just over the prized handle, only for you to fail again.
That’s when you feel an over looming presence behind you, a shadow encompassing your figure. Chrollo gets the plate you were reaching for with ease, his chest brushing over your back in the process. You feel your face flushing, your body going taut, standing still as a wooden plank. He sets it down beside you with a knowing smile. That bastard…! He’s doing this on purpose. Damn him.
“It looked like you could use some help.” He tells you. It takes every ounce of your self restraint not to lunge at him, instead taking a deep breath and nodding your head. Why is he so intent on getting a reaction from you? It’s exasperating, serving no practical purpose other than his own amusement. Inundated with your thoughts, you don’t realize how sour a look you’re sporting. This is what he wants, you remind yourself. To get you riled up. You refuse to play into his hands, and manage to get a grip.
Time passes by at a lethargic pace. After around forty minutes, your front door rings, and you pick up the order. Sitting at your counter, you help yourself to the meal, grateful that Chrollo has seen fit to leave you alone. There can never be anything good in this world, as he eventually joins you. You try not facing him as an act of defiance. The plan that seemed ingenious in theory has a rockier execution. Sitting in silence feels worse somehow, like a ticking time bomb. Shifting in your seat, you decide to strike up a half baked conversation.
“So, uh, about the whole being hunted down thing,” your voice wavers and you hate yourself for it, “Do you have an idea of when it’s going to be over? I’m starting to run out of excuses for why my friends can’t come over.”
This is true. There have been no more lively gatherings at your apartment since Chrollo’s unwelcome appearance, and you’ve been pestered about it. In between the lines is the prospect of your friends finding this reclusive behavior suspicious. In your optimism, you hope he takes it as a hint to get out of here faster.
Chrollo takes on a pensive appearance, his chin resting on his hand. “I’d been meaning to talk to you about that, so I’m glad you brought it up.”
How nice it is to be on the same page. This could be the light at the end of the tunnel, the last page in this awful chapter of your life. Ten days seems like a reasonable amount of time to lay low. Maybe he’s already packing his bags, planning to leave you far behind, so you can forget any of this ever happened. Maybe you’ll treat yourself to a vacation. From the gut wrenching anxiety Chrollo has inflicted on you, you feel deserving of one.
“They’ve stopped searching for me a while ago.”
Wait, what?
You look at him, silverware dropping from your lax hand. He’s never been into joking around. Does that mean he’s being serious with you? That all this time, you’ve been holding out for something that already happened? Fists balling by your side, you don’t bother hiding a sharp glare directed towards him. There’s no playfully wry response, no comeback, only disbelief and abhorrence. The bountiful meal in front of you is forgotten.
There’s no point in asking, but you still do, voice low. “... How long?”
“According to my sources, about a week.” comes Chrollo’s response, hammering the final nail in the coffin of your patience. His motivations have never been any less clear. You know you shouldn’t have taken the word of someone like him seriously -- you’re so painfully aware of this that it hurts -- but now leaves a final question. Why? What does he get out of this? You feel sick to your stomach, knowing that it’s going to bad no matter what. Your breathing has picked up, eyes dilating and body threatening to crumble under the tension. Everything feels out of place.
He responds as if he was reading your thoughts. “You’re an interesting person, [First]. You never cried, pleaded, or anything of the like. Instead you accepted the situation for what it was, all while staying true to your values. I find that admirable. I’d like to learn more from you.”
“Stop talking to me like I’m a -- a fucking -- science experiment, instead of a human being. How does any of that shit even matter?” You feel the blood draining from your face, every word coming out more forced than the last. Getting riled up here is the last thing you should be doing, but you can’t control yourself. All your negative emotions from your time with him are regurgitating into a final mess.
“I don’t know, truth be told.” Chrollo checks the watch on his wrist, and you gulp at the smile that forms on his lips. It feels like a sentencing, a foreboding omen. There’s bile rising in your throat, and you scramble away from your chair. You need to get out of here. You need to run, to scream for help, to alert your family, this is not going to end well, what is he planning--
There’s a hurried knock at your door.
“However, what I do know is that I have no intention of leaving this place without you by my side.”
#chrollo lucilfer#chrollo#chrollo x reader#chrollo lucilfer imagine#chrollo imagine#HunterXHunter#Hunter X Hunter#hunter x hunter imagine#yandere hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter imagines#hxh#hxh x reader#yandere hxh x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere scenario#my stuff#commissions#yandere chrollo lucilfer#chrollo lucilfer x reader#yandere chrollo#yandere chrollo x reader
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From the project of interviewing Stanley S. Bass about his experiences with Karezza techniques, The Life Science Publishing created the 2008 book Energy-Karezza. Here Dr. Bass tells the story of how, in his 30’s, he was on his way to become a celibate yogi through Brahmacharya, when he learned about reaching the same spiritual goal via Karezza & Tantra. He decided to try Karezza instead.
Even though his personal goal was spiritual, Dr. Bass soon discovered that women loved Karezza, and couldn’t get enough. When he started teaching the improved Energy-Karezza method to couples with marital problems, the results were astounding. Usually, within weeks, the couple had fallen in love again. Problematic marriages healed, becoming more and more harmonious and stronger with time.
Over time, over 50+ years, he not only gained experience concerning every aspect of Karezza/Tantra, but also – thanks to his energy-understanding, being an orthopathic doctor – developed an improved, more powerful & easy-to-learn, version. Traditional “Karezza/Tantra” can be difficult for men, but “Energy-Karezza/Tantra” is easy, and also gives more pleasure & prolongation..
INTRODUCING OTHERS TO KAREZZA
youtube
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Karezza is about one thing, the man has to control himself. It is so
easy. I got so good at this control that I soon was able to go almost a whole
year with no accidents. With very heavy sex - three times a week, four
hours each session. It didn't take long to get to a high level of proficiency.
In a few months I was very good at it already.
It is very simple, it is natural. It is not difficult. Prove it for yourself,
don't take my word for it. Try it out. The first time I heard about it, it was
strange to me, so I tried it. It didn't take me long to get good at it. It was
easier than I thought. In fact, I taught Karezza to a lot of friends, and
everyone had success.
If one of them asked me, "how do I know if it will work?", I gave him a
simple method of trying it. I usually said, "why don't you first try:
1. Don't have an orgasm quickly, but wait until the woman is
finished, until she has had her enjoyment. Practice holding back
for half an hour, for an hour, for several hours, if you can.
2. Then you'll see that your own orgasms are better; they are more
enjoyable.
3. Also try having an orgasm only every other time you have sex.
Skipping one time. Every other time, try without orgasm. See how
you feel."
With my sex students, those were my instructions, to begin with. These
instructions summarize basic traditional Karezza. But these simple
instructions could still be difficult for some men. They lost control
(ejaculated) early, and were never able to do Karezza for a full hour.
Therefore, to make it easier, I gave my students some Energy-Karezza
secrets. I asked them to improve their diet, and to avoid alcohol and all
drugs. I told them not to eat before sex, because a man can not control
himself after he has eaten. Why? Because then too much blood goes to the
stomach.
Also, I gave very detailed instructions on the best movements in sex. I
told them to move slowly, and explained how to move, so they wouldn't
get too excited, e.g. sideways, in semicircles, avoiding the in-out moves.
For the premature ejaculators, I told them to give up salt, and to not
use anything spicy hot, avoid hot peppers, stay away from spices, because
this throws them out of control. And then I told them to use certain
motions, slow motions, that makes it easy to control oneself. That's all.
Then the women will get the pleasure, because the men are controlling
themselves.
For some men the pleasure was so overwhelming that they were still
unable to control themselves very long, more than perhaps 45 minutes,
even if their diet was good and they had high vitality. In these cases I
think the solution is just doing it over and over. Sometimes men, just like
women, may need saturation with lots of high-pleasure peak orgasms,
before they can start with serious self-control and higher-pleasure valley
orgasms. It may take months, but in the end they will get there.
I myself was never overly concerned with the clitoris or the G-spot,
because the Karezza was so enjoyable and I was so good at it that a
woman couldn't hold out long. If they wanted to have an orgasm, they
could have it quick. Women enjoyed it.
The women were very happy. After beginning Karezza, it became
unnecessary to calculate all this stuff. I never had to actually figure it out.
All I did was to function naturally, the way I felt like, without thinking
about it. And it was right, for every woman. If one gets too mechanical
about it, one becomes a dud. Then it is not real. Real sex has nothing to do
with the brain, it has to do with feelings, true feelings and movement.
That's all. The brain is not needed.
From page 45 the Technique to Paradise.
🍎🐍🏖️
YAB YUM
What are you experiencing?
~ by yab yum
Be patient. At first you can't experience the orgasmic part of this process. Some get it on their first try and for some it can take years. Keep practicing with the exercise your teacher gives you. Even if you don't experience the orgasm, just the breath and energy circling alone is of great value. It will clear blocks so that eventually the orgasm can pass through you. Blocks can be experienced in many ways – crying, gagging, getting frustrated, resurfacing old memories. Just keep breathing. Visualize letting go of the "old" on the exhale, ringing out the "new" on the inhale. Energy levels will most likely rise and fall, like mercury in a thermometer. Tell your partner where it slipped. Your partner will encourage you to tap into your sexual center when energy is slipping. One of the main keys to learning this technique is KNOWING that it is possible.
(When asked if she had an orgasm, Sara responded 🙂
It was uninterrupted, uninterrupted… This was definitely something else, which I have never experienced so fully.
(Sara was then asked if there were any psychological changes.)
Oh yes, sure. From the point of view of spiritual practice it is always full of insight, a kind of insight that comes after, about how I am in ecstasy in my usual state, because it is obvious that the ecstasy is inherent in the body (level), of my being… and also of course this would affect my meditation. I am much more relaxed and receptive physically, emotionally and psychologically when I sit down to meditate…. I don't know what this has to do with anything, but meditation becomes very sexual, very physical, playing with all these hormones. Very often in my meditation there is a stage like deepening where it goes through something like lovemaking in a hormonal sense. I feel the heat and change of energy and so forth, and then it just cools down. That is when deep meditation begins.
It is absolutely blissful in ecstasy because the bliss is something I feel in the body. The ecstasy is something where the body is no longer. Energy goes up. His community. It is love. The transcendent, the energy feeling, transcends even the light that I'm talking about in meditation, and just went into the light.
One tree merges with another tree, the earth merges with the trees, the trees merge with the sky, the sky merges with the unknown...you merge with me, I merge with you...everything merges...differences lost, melting and merging as waves into other waves…an enormous unity vibrating, alive, without limits, without definitions, without distinction…the sage melting into the sinner, the sinner flowing together in the sage…becoming good becoming bad, becoming bad…the night turning into the day, day turning into night… life melts into death, death plunges into life again – then everything has become one.
This has changed my experience with sexuality forever… It has blown up things like this what you have about sex, the good feeling you get from sexual experience or trying to get. It broke that because it was so obviously about submission. It wasn't about me trying to do something. It was about not doing something, but rather receiving or allowing it, rather than doing and creating and making.
This is the most profound healing practice I have ever encountered. It has awakened me to realize that my body is often shut off from the bliss and ecstasy it might be experiencing. Through this practice I have come to learn that emotional pain occurs when orgasmic energy does not flow freely through my body and that there is an infinite flow of orgasmic energy available to me. It has taken me years to gradually release the tension and pain in my body and I still have areas of tension to unblock. The sensations can be different each time depending on my condition, sometimes there is a pulsating vibration and sometimes it feels like some kind of electrical current circulating through my genitals throughout my body. There may be tears of joy. My mind can be perfectly clear and it can seem like everything I feared has been resolved. When a certain area of tension is unblocked and the orgasmic energy circulates, there is always an amazing sense of oneness with the life being awakened.
Mel 40 Auckland
My teacher knew how to touch – and where to make contact – He knew places to touch that I didn't know about – and soon I was on my way to another place in another universe. I was in a trance of breathing and sweat and pleasure that so long and so dead do had gone – that I traveled through light and sound. I never knew that such an experience could be had without actually making love. When I finally climaxed and climaxed and climaxed, I couldn't believe I was having a sexual climax in the presence of someone other than my husband. I felt both excitement and a little embarrassment. Looking back at this moment, I would never have thought that having an orgasm for another man would actually be the "beginning" of this whole journey in Tantra
Emma S 35
Auckland
And this is the joy of Cosmic Spiritual Orgasm, because you disappear for a moment. That moment is very small, but its impact is immense. For a moment you are no longer the ego, you do not think in terms of 'I', for a moment you dissolve into the oneness of the all, you become one with the whole, you pulsate with the whole. You are no longer an individual… you are no longer limited to your body. You have no limitations, for a moment you are unlimited, infinite.
That is the meaning of Cosmic Spiritual Orgasm – that your frozen energy melts, becoming one with this universe, with the trees and the stars, and the woman and the man, and the rocks – for a single moment, of course. But in THAT moment you have a kind of consciousness that is religious, that is sacred, that is one with all things. – OSHO
Unbelievable! Some are very strong and some are wonderfully subtle. In general, the more time you spend building up the energy, the more powerful the sensations. You experience “electricity” throughout your body, hands, feet and lips tingle, and there is a sense of letting go and receiving at the same time. You will feel high, euphoric and light-headed. It feels very different from a clitoral orgasm (but it can happen at the same time as a clitoral orgasm). You see a seed sprout, flowers appear on a tree somewhere, the birds are singing – the whole phenomenon is sexual. It is life manifesting in many ways. When the bird sings, it is a sexual call, an invitation. When the flower attracts butterflies and bees, it is an invitation, because the bees and butterflies bear the seeds of reproduction. Everything seems to be divided into these two polarities. And life is a rhythm between these two opposites. Repulsion and attraction, coming closer and getting far… these are the rhythms.
Z
#awakening#tantra#unconditionallove#karezza#nirvana#moksha#yabyum#freedom#liberty#hypocrisy#john lennon#the beatles#Youtube
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The Silent Patient vs The Maidens
I will start by saying that I understand the appeal of these novels as page-turners. They are easy to read and if you want a twisty reveal at the end, you will probably be entertained and satisfied. That being said, I am SO CONFUSED by the near-universal adoration of The Silent Patient and the reasonably positive reception of The Maidens. The weaknesses of the two are strikingly similar, as well, which doesn’t give me much hope of seeing improvement from this guy, though I am intrigued to see whether he keeps repeating the same (apparently successful!!) patterns. These books were at least super fun to hate.
(For context, I read The Maidens for a bookclub I'm in, because several of the members had read and loved The Silent Patient, and one of them gave me a copy of the latter to read on my own time. I loathed The Maidens and then read The SP for comparative purposes. And because I'm a masochist, apparently.)
SPOILER WARNING! Do not read on unless you've finished both books (or unless you care not for spoilers). Sorry if it gets a bit shouty.
Here are the similar weaknesses I noticed in both:
PSEUDO-PSYCHOLOGY
-> Weirdly similar “group therapy” scenes early on where a cartoonishly unstable patient arrives late, disrupts the meeting by throwing something into the middle of the circle, and is asked to join the group after the therapist(s) speechify on the importance of boundaries (HA! None of these therapists would know an appropriate boundary if it kicked them in the ass) and debate whether to “allow” the patient to join. Both scenes are so transparent in their design to establish the credibility/legitimacy of the narrators as therapists, but instead both Theo and Mariana come off as super patronizing. The protagonists are less and less believable as therapists at the stories progress (though at least Theo’s incompetence is explained away by the “twist” at the end; Mariana, on the other hand, is confronted in the opening pages of the novel by a patient who has self-harmed PRETTY extensively, and rather than ensure he get proper medical attention, she essentially throws him a first aid kit and tosses him out the door so she can pour herself a glass of wine and call her niece... and it devolves from there).
-> Ongoing insistence throughout the narrative that one’s childhood trauma entirely explains the warped/dysfunctional way a character behaves or views the world, which is why the books go out of their way to give EVERY potentially violent character a traumatic childhood; when Theo insists that no one ever became an abuser who hadn’t been abused themselves, I wanted to throw the book across the room. (That is a MYTH, SIR. GET OUT OF HERE WITH YOUR ARMCHAIR PSYCHOLOGY.)
-> Female murderers whose pathology boils down to “history of depression” and “traumatized by a male loved one/family member.” Because, as we all know, depression + abuse = murderer!
-> The “therapy” depicted in both books is laughable and so so unrealistic, mostly because neither narrators function as therapists so much as incompetent detectives, obsessively pursuing a case they have no place pursuing (or skill to pursue - both just happen across every clue mostly by way of clunky conversation with all the people who can provide precisely the snippet of info to send them along to the next person, and the next… until all is revealed in a tired, cliched “twist”). Their constant Psych 101 asides were so tiresome and weirdly dated (also, the constant harping on countertransference got so ridiculous that at one point during "therapy" Theo literally attributes his headache and a particular emotion he feels to Alicia, as though the contents of her head are being broadcast directly into his mind... and I'm PRETTY SURE that's not how it works???)
CHARACTERS
-> Psychotherapist narrators with abusive fathers and pretensions of being Sherlock Holmes, which results in both characters crossing ALL KINDS of ethical lines as they invade the personal lives of everyone even tangentially connected to their cases (and, in Theo's case, violate all kinds of patient confidentiality. Yeah, yeah, by the end, that's the least of his offenses, but before you get there, it's baffling that NO ONE is calling him out on this).
-> All female characters are either elderly with hilariously bad advice, monstrous hulking brutes, or beautiful bitches (except for ~MARIANA~, who is Bella Swan-esque in her unawareness of her own attractiveness, despite multiple men trying to get with her almost immediately after meeting her. I'm so tired of beautiful female characters being oblivious to their own hotness. Are we meant to believe all mirrors and male attention have escaped their notice? If it’s to make them “relatable,” this tactic really fails with me).
-> All characters of color are shallow, cartoonish side characters, and most of them are depicted as unsympathetic minor antagonists (the Sikh Chief Inspector in The Maidens continuously drinks tea from an ever-present thermos, and his only other notable characteristic is his instant dislike of Mariana, whom he VERY RIGHTLY warns to stay out of the investigation that she is VERY MUCH compromising… the Caribbean manager of the Grove is universally disliked by her staff for enforcing stricter safety regulations at the bafflingly poorly run mental institution, because HOW DARE SHE. There's a very clear vibe that we're supposed to dislike these characters and share the protagonists' indignation, but honestly Sangha/Stephanie were completely in the right for trying to shut down their wildly inappropriate investigations).
-> "Working class" characters (or basically anyone excluded from the comfortably upper-crust, educated main cadre of characters) are few and far between in both stories, but when they show up, he depicts them as such caricatures. We got Elsie the pathologically lying housekeeper in the Maidens, who is enticed to share her bullshit with cake, and then a TOOTHLESS LEPRECHAUN DEALING DRUGS UNDER A BRIDGE in the SP. I kid you not, a man described as having the body of a child, the face of Father Time, and no front teeth, emerges from beneath a bridge and offers to sell Theo some "grass." I was dyinggg.
-> There are no characters to root for. Anywhere. Partly because they’re all so thinly drawn — and because we’re clearly supposed to view almost ALL of them as potential suspects, so they’re ALL weird, creepy, or incompetent in some way.
-> The flimsiest of flimsy motives, both for the narrators and the murderers. Theo fully would have gotten away with his involvement in the murder if he hadn't gone out of his way to work at the Grove and "treat" Alicia and his justification for doing so is pretty weak; his rapid descent into stalking and murder fantasy and his random ass decision to "expose" Alicia's husband as a cheater with a spur-of-the-moment home invasion and staged attempted homicide is ONLY justified if the reader hand waves it away as WELP, HE'S CRAZY, I GUESS (after all, he DID have an abusive father and a history of mental illness, and in Michaelides novels, that's ALL YOU NEED to become a violent psycho). I guess we're lucky Mariana didn't also start dropping bodies (because the logic of his fictional universe says she should definitely be a murderer by now... maybe that'll be his Maidens sequel?). But she especially had NO reason to randomly turn detective - and she kept trying to justify it by saying she needed to re-enter the world or that Sebastian would want her to (??), even though she had no background in criminal psychology... or even a particular fondness for mysteries (really, I would've accepted ANYTHING to explain her dogged obsession with the case. WHY were Sebastian and Zoe so certain she would insert herself into the investigation just because one of Zoe's friends was the first victim? WHY?). As for Zoe and Alicia, their motives are mere suggestions: they were both abused and manipulated, and voila! Slippery slope to murder.
WRITING STYLE
-> Incessant allusions to Greek tragedy and myth, apparently to provide a sophisticated gloss over the bare-bones writing style, which opts more for telling than showing and frequently indulges in hilariously bizarre analogies. Credit where credit is due — the references to Greek myth are less clunky in the SP, and I liked learning about the Alcestis play/myth, which I hadn’t heard of before - but OMG the entire characterization of Fosca, who we are meant to believe is a professor of Greek tragedy at one of the most respected universities on the planet, is just absurd. His "lecture" on the liminal in Greek tragedy is essentially the Wikipedia page on the Eleusinian Mysteries capped off with some Hallmark-card carpe diem crap. The lecture hall responds with raucous applause, clearly never having heard such vague genius bullshit before.
-> Super clunky and amateurish narrative device of interludes written by another character; Sebastian’s letter reads like a mashup of Dexter monologues and Clarice’s memory of the screaming sheep, but by FAR the worse offender is Alicia’s diary, where we’re supposed to believe she painstakingly recorded ENTIRE CONVERSATIONS, BEAT-BY-BEAT DIALOGUE, even when she’s just been DRUGGED TO THE GILLS with morphine and has mere moments of consciousness left… and even before that, she literally takes the time to write “He's trying the windows and doors! ...Someone’s inside! Someone’s inside the house! ETC ETC” when she thinks her stalker has broken in downstairs. WHO DOES THAT?)
-> Speaking of dialogue, the dialogue is so bad. Based on his bio, Michaelides got a degree in screenwriting, which makes his terrible dialogue even more baffling.
-> HILARIOUSLY rendered voyeur scenes where the narrators spy on couples having sex. Such unintentionally awkward descriptions. First we had Kathy’s climax sounds through the trees and then the bowler hat carefully placed on a tombstone before the gatekeeper plows a student. Again, I died.
PLOT/"TWIST"
-> The CONSTANT red herrings make for such an exhausting read. Michaelides drops anvils with almost every character that are so obviously meant to designate them as suspects in our minds. There is absolutely no subtlety in his misdirections.
-> The “crossover” scene between the SP and The Maidens makes no sense - when in the timeline does Mariana’s story overlap with Theo’s? They confer just before Theo starts working at the Grove, obviously (though Mariana appears to be the one who alerts Theo to the job opening there? Whereas in the SP, Theo has been obsessively tracking Alicia since the murder and had already planned to apply to work there?), but then are we supposed to believe that while Theo has been psychotically pursuing his warped quest to “help” Alicia, he’s also been diligently treating Zoe, so invested in her case that he repeatedly reaches out to Mariana to get her to visit Zoe and even writes Mariana a lengthy letter to convince her to do so??? And then a couple days after The Maidens ends, Theo is arrested???
-> But the thing I really did hate the most is how Michaelides treats his female murderers (who are both also victims themselves) as mere means to deploy a “twist”; there’s no moment spared to encourage our sympathy for Zoe, who was groomed and manipulated by the only trusted father figure in her life, and even after spending a decent amount of time getting to know Alicia via her ridiculous diary, where it’s so apparent that she’s been demeaned, objectified, manipulated, gaslit, and/or used by EVERY man in her life, she’s sent packing to spend the rest of her days in a coma… HOW much more satisfying would it have been for her to succeed in exposing Theo and reclaiming her voice? But no, she basically rolls over when he comes to finish her off (SPEAKING OF — ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THERE ARE NO SECURITY CAMERAS IN THIS INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE????), writes one last diary entry, and drifts off forever. And then a couple pages of nothing later, the story is over. GOODNIGHT, ALICIA!
Both books kept me rolling throughout (by which I mean eye-rolling but also rotfl). Maybe I will check out his next effort — I’m morbidly curious what he’ll turn out. It does leave me wondering whether I should give up on thriller novels entirely, though. Are many of the weaknesses of these novels just characteristic of the genre? Maybe I'm just holding these books to unfair standards? I'm mostly only familiar with thriller films — many of which I think are amazing — but maybe you can get away with more in a film than you can in a novel.
...I really only intended to write a handful of bullet points, but more and more kept coming to mind as I wrote, to the point where subheadings became necessary. Whoopsie.
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Companions seeing soles baby for the first time? (Dont specify the name or gender though please, also could add a bonus for maxson-)
Okay... So I might have been slightly self-indulgent with the Piper one at first since I've got such a soft spot for my favorite nosy reporter. But I tried to balance it out so now y'all maybe won't notice so much! 😅
As for the Maxson bonus, I'm not too familiar with his character, but I tried! In my playthroughs, I've only ever sided with the Minutemen and the Railroad, and the most affection I've felt for the Brotherhood comes in the form of Danse. However, I am starting another playthrough, so I might go Brotherhood this time. I did the best I could, y'all. ��
I hope you enjoy! 🥰💙💛
Cait - Does not even know how to act. When she comes through the door, her eyes locked on the bundle in F!Sole's arms, she trips over the doorway and immediately curses. However, she swiftly apologizes as if the child can understand the words. F!Sole just chuckles and pats the spot on the side of the bed, inviting Cait to come see the baby up close. Cait very slowly shuffles over and sits down, just staring at the baby. She wants to touch the baby, but she's scared to because what if she makes it cry and then she'll cry and then it'll be a mess and then--- And then F!Sole asks her if she wants to hold the baby. She very hesitantly nods just barely, almost a reflex reaction, and F!Sole hands it to her. She hold it very stiffly, but as securely as she can, just looking down at its sweet, little face. She will protect this thing with her very life.
Piper - Is absolutely in love with the baby as soon as she sees it and she carefully sits on the bed next to F!Sole, just grinning like an idiot as she looks at her best friend's child there before her. When F!Sole asks if she wants to hold it, she wholeheartedly agrees. She very carefully picks it up and holds it in her arms, just marveling at it as she gently touches its face. She wastes no time in telling it that it is definitely going to be just as awesome and full of trouble as its mama is. When F!Sole tells it that its aunt is way worse, she feels like her heart might burst at the very fact that her Blue just called her a member of her family. She's definitely going to be the best aunt that she can be and will undoubtedly spoil it absolutely rotten to the core.
Curie - Is overwhelmed with so, so many emotions the very moment that she lays eyes on the baby. She almost thinks that she will cry from the pure joy and adorableness before her. She hurried over before slowing down just as she gets to the bed. She reaches out before quickly looking at F!Sole in a silent question, and F!Sole nods happily, extending the bundle so that Curie can get a better look. Curie softly speaks to it, her eyes ridiculously huge as she gently pokes its cheeks. She giggles and sniffles, reaching up and wiping at her eyes as she looks down at the sweet baby. She cannot wait to help it get used to this wonderful, strange world.
MacCready - Just looks at it with a soft smile on his face and a few tears in his eyes. He is reminded of how beautiful Duncan was as a baby, and he is now lost in thoughts about two beautiful babies. When she asks if he wants to hold it, he happily accepts the offer and holds it carefully. He baby-talks to it a little, telling it just how adorable it is, and when it reaches up and touches his face, he freezes before smiling gently. He then hands it back to F!Sole only to see that she has a huge grin on her face. He chuckles awkwardly and scratches at the back of his neck, shrugging it off. He will definitely love introducing it to Duncan.
Deacon - Grins widely when he sees it and he pulls out a very small pair of sunglasses, offering them to F!Sole. She raises an eyebrow, somewhat confused and he explains that they're for the baby. She chuckles before balancing them carefully on the baby's face. Deacon laughs happily, and he tells the baby that he's going to be the cool uncle and they're going to be partners in spying. He knows that the baby is going to be an amazing spy and he cannot wait to teach it all of his moves.
Codsworth - Is overjoyed when he sees it and dotes upon it, speaking to it in cheery tones while trying to keep his voice a little quieter than it naturally tends to be. He fails somewhat at keeping himself quiet, but it is the thought that counts. He hovers around the bed, looking at the baby from all angles as he fusses over F!Sole and the child. He will do everything in his power to serve them both well for the rest of his days.
Hancock - Makes sure that he is completely free of any and all chems and is totally sober when he sees the child. He wants this moment in his mind to be clear as a bell. When he sees it, he knows that he is totally wrapped around its finger. And when F!Sole introduces him as Uncle John, he clings onto the name and owns it proudly, talking to the baby about everything that Uncle John is going to buy for it whenever he manages to pry himself away from it. Like Piper, he's going to spoil it rotten.
Danse - Just sort of stands in the doorway until F!Sole notices him and waves him over quickly. He ambles over carefully. As soon as he sees the baby, he is enamored and he just looks at it like it singlehandedly hung the moon despite the fact that it has only been in the world for thirty minutes or less. After a long moment, he quietly asks her if he can touch it, and she nods encouragingly. He gently reaches out, his huge fingers carefully brushing its face. When it grabs one of them, he thinks that he could die of pure happiness. Nothing will ever happen to it as long as he's around.
Preston - Smiles goofily when he sees it, removing his hat quickly so that he does not look so huge and intimidating when he comes over to take a closer look. He is just beaming as he looks down at it, and he tells F!Sole softly that it's going to make for an incredible General one day. He then proceeds to talk in a more baby-oriented tone as he tells it how cute it is and how it's going to be just like its mommy. Preston is so, so excited to see it grow up and to see the amazing things it will do.
Valentine - Is at first somewhat hesitant to come in. What if the baby is afraid of him? After all, he is a pretty ghastly sight. However, almost as if she sensed it, F!Sole asks someone to come get him and he has to come in whether he likes it or not. When he sees the little one, he feels a warmth bloom in his chest like no other and smiles a little as he approaches. F!Sole tells him to get over there and sit down with them. She then proceeds to introduce the baby to its Grandpa Nick. He knows that if he was able, he would definitely be crying right about then, but he just smiles, albeit somewhat wobbly, and he tells the baby that how cute it is. He will forever treasure his new title.
X6-88 - Examines it carefully before declaring that he expected it to more strongly resemble its older brother. F!Sole seems crestfallen as a result, and something strange makes him feel inclined to say something else. He adds that it is not a bad thing and that it will likely be as brilliant as its older brother. F!Sole seems somehow more sad and happier at that response, so he simply remains quiet. Regardless of everything, he will keep a close watch over it for as long as he remains functional.
Dogmeat - Hops onto the bed beside her carefully, being sure not to step on F!Sole, and he stares at the baby with great interest. He moves a little closer and sniffs it. When it reaches its hand out and touches his nose, his tail wags unbelievably fast and he licks its hand gently. This is another person that he will protect and love forever.
Strong - Is strangely fascinated by it. He seems to have no desire to eat it, and he very carefully and hesitantly points at it before asking F!Sole if this is the baby she had in her stomach. When she tells him that it is indeed the one, he then asks if she went behind the tree and pooped it out. This makes her laugh entirely too hard.
BONUS:
Maxson - Is quite proud of his most trusted paladin for giving birth to such a beautiful baby. He is excited at the idea of the child growing up among the Brotherhood's ranks and he just sort of looks at it carefully and fondly as he stands near the bed. F!Sole asks him if he thinks it'll one day grow up to be a paladin as well, and he wholeheartedly assures her that he is one hundred percent certain. If the baby is anything like its mother, then it will definitely be a paladin at least by the age of eighteen.
#fallout companions react#fallout companion reacts#fallout#fallout 4#fo4#fallout 4 companions react#fallout 4 companion reacts#fallout 4 companions#fallout 4 companion#fallout companions#fallout companion#piper wright#arthur maxson#maxson#strong#dogmeat#cait#curie#maccready#robert maccready#deacon#hancock#john hancock#nick valentine#paladin danse#danse#x6-88#preston garvey#codsworth
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S/o Loses Memory and Quirk
Kaminari Denki HCs
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Language, violence, mentions broken bones, a panic attack, panic attack symptoms, sad Denki
A/N: Ngl writing angst for Denki did something to my little heart. He only deserves happiness and I’m mad at myself for giving him sadness lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I’ll be writing one like this for All Might next so keep your eyes peeled for that one!
Shinsou, Aizawa, Hawks, and Dabi
Todoroki, Bakugou, and Kirishima
Kaminari Denki | Chargebolt
You are his partner in crime
You’re the one who is always there to take care of him when he goes dumb
You’re the one who is always there to comfort him when he feels like an idiot
You’re always the one who is there for him
And he’s always the one who is there for you
It’s been that way for years
Ever since you transferred to UA your second year of high school
The two of you became fast friends
Best friends even
And his flirty nature made it so it wasn’t too long before the two of you entered a real relationship
The two of you EXUDE the most chaotic good energy that even Bakugou finds it kind of endearing
But unbeknownst to his friends
Denki can get really fucking serious when it comes to you
It lowkey shocked you the first time you saw him act like that
And it was all because you were sparring with him and you tripped over your own damn foot and face planted
You figured he’d just point and laugh at you but he ran over and checked you EVERYWHERE to make sure you weren’t hurt
mans even SCOLDED you
YOU WERE SCOLDED BY DENKI KAMINARI
But you lowkey LOVED it because like
Wow
He does like me !!!
Of course that was in your final year at UA
The two of you are now pro-heroes at separate agencies
And boy oh boy does Denki worry about you
He can’t help it
He has seen you run into a wall because you were trying to rely on scent instead of sight “in case you get stuck in a dark room with a villain”
He worries
But he also knows you are strong
And also a hot badass who can take on anyone
Well
Almost anyone
Midoriya could probably kick your ass but that’s just because it’s Midoriya
But in all seriousness
He isn’t even patrolling today
He has the day off actually
And Denki has never baked anything before in his life
But
He knows that there’s been this mysterious villain giving your agency some trouble recently
So he wants to make you some of your favorite cookies
Or at least try to
And then have a lil movie night
He’s a clingy little shit
And he wants to destress you so
He will refuse to let go of you for the rest of the night goddamnit!
So there he is
Taking the semi-burnt but still edible cookies out of the oven
His favorite program on in the background
When suddenly
His show gets interrupted
And the hero scanner the two of you have goes off in your living room
He immediately turns his attention to the television
Stopping in the middle of the kitchen
Still holding the cookies
When he sees live footage of you falling from a 3 story building
Onto concrete
He drops the pan
And literally sprints out of the door
He doesn’t even have shoes on
But he doesn’t give a single Fuck™
He rushes down the stairs of the apartment building the two of you live in
And gets to his car in record time
Mans be speeding to the hospital he knows you’re gonna be at
You two had a plan in place with each other and your agencies that if anything would happen to either of you
You would both go to this specific hospital so you two could know where the other was at all times
Of course he was crying while speeding
And his heart rate was way too fast for him to be functioning
But he had to get to you
He had to
And he did
He pulled into a parking spot reserved for pro-heroes and ran inside the emergency room
When he asked about you the nurse told him you were currently in surgery for some severe bone breaks
He got a nasty taste in his mouth
But he just nodded
She told him he could wait in the waiting room
And he did
He sat down in a chair
And he was trying so hard to keep it together
So
SO
Hard
But eventually Kirishima, Mina, Sero, and even Bakugou showed up
To be fair
Mina and you did work at the same agency
So she saw everything that happened
They immediately went over to him
And he looked up at Mina
And deadass this is the first time any of them see how genuinely serious Denki can get
He asks Mina what happened
And she hesitates
But his face is dead serious
There are obviously tears leaking out of his eyes
But his stare is wildly intense
And Mina knows that if she says no he’ll just keep asking or ask someone else at the agency
So she tells him
“Well… we were patrolling, like usual, when that villain that’s been keeping us on our toes showed up. They’ve never… done anything other than rob people and knock them out so we thought hey this should be easy. Especially since (Y/n) was there. When they saw us they ran into a building and we chased after them and when we had them cornered on the roof they did this weird… sneak attack? But not really? I don’t know it was… odd, they had this like patterned fight technique and they hit (Y/n) in a few different places, and she went to use her quirk to fight back but… nothing happened… and then they hit her like at the bottom of her skull and she just… fell down unconscious. And then they… threw her… off…”
She started trailing off at the end because a sob tore through Denki’s throat
And then he started hyperventilating
Luckily Bakugou and Kirishima were there to help him out
They get panic attacks frequently, so they managed to calm him down and get him to breathe again
And they stayed with him for as long as they had to
Eventually after hours
A doctor came out and approached Denki
“Pro Hero Chargebolt?”
He stands up very fast
He’s informed that you are out of surgery
And that the surgery went well
However they noticed something odd in your MRI results
It seemed that a portion of your brain was damaged?
But not quite
It was still functioning
But something about it was off
And they had never seen anything like it before
It was like certain parts of your brain were blocked but everything else was fine
Upon hearing this Denki’s heart broke
And then after hearing the part of your brain that was impacted was the part that contained long term memories
His heart shattered
“We’re afraid she may have severe amnesia. We’re going to keep running tests to see just what is going on, we think it’s the quirk of that villain. A lot of the victims of their crimes have blockages in their muscle groups, but we’ve never seen a blockage in the brain from them.”
Denki is quiet
He literally doesn’t say anything
Until he whispers
“Can i see her?”
The doctor nods
And he leads him to your room
You’re still asleep
And you’re covered in bandages and casts
It breaks his heart
His friends texted him to tell him they went home but if he needs them at any minute that they will be on their way to the hospital in ten seconds flat
He appreciates it
But right now he really just wanted to be alone with you
He just sat next to you
Holding your hand
He was even moving your pointer finger to trace the Lichtenberg Figures trailing up and down his arms
You always do it when the two of you are cuddling at night
It helps him sleep
And reminds him that you love him regardless of his faults
And right now he just
He really needs you
This goes on for an hour before he feels you start to move
And he freezes
“(Y/n?”
You open your eyes
And squint at him
“Uh… h-hi… aren’t you that guy in my new class…?”
He stares at you
Completely deadpan
Before laughing a bit
But it isn’t a happy laugh
It’s very much a sad laugh
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
“Cool, but um… how did you know my name already?… Are you crying?”
Yes
He was
He was laughing and crying at the same time
He probably looked like he was losing his mind
But he really did just lose his whole world so
It’s a prompted reaction
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
His voice was more strained this time
“Are you… are you okay?”
“Yeah, but you’re not. And I didn’t save you, and now you don’t know who I am, and I’m just… I’m so sorry, babe. I’m so sorry.”
The laughing stopped
Now he’s just sobbing
In your mind
You’d seen him a few times while touring the school
And he was always laughing and smiling
Always
So this was shocking
And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t tug on your heart strings
You instinctively reach out to grab his hand
And he grips onto it so tight
Almost like he’s afraid of letting go
“…You called me babe?”
He tries to even his breathing
But he nods
“I don’t… I don’t even know you, I-”
“You do. You do, but… you don’t. It’s… it’s complicated and I’m a literal dumbass so… I’ll call a doctor. They’ll explain.”
And that he does
And the doctor does in fact explain
And after the doctor leaves
You ask him to tell you about your relationship
And he does
He tells you even the smallest details
From the time that you painted the nail on his right hand middle finger pink because he lost a bet and he ended up liking it and buying nail polish for himself
To the time that you two told everyone you break danced all night to break in your new apartment when in reality he turned on Lover by Taylor Swift and the two of you slow danced in your living room
All of it
And he even managed to slip in the fact that you’d remember all of this after he caught the villain who did this to you
And he will catch them.
#my hero academia x reader#denki x reader#kaminari x reader#denki kaminari x reader#kaminari denki x reader#denki x y/n#kaminari x y/n#denki x you#kaminari x you#mha headcanons#bnha x reader#mha x reader#boku no hero x reader#bnha#my hero academia#denki#kaminari denki#denki kaminari#mha#boku no hero academia
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Sapere Aude - Part 15
Book: The Royal Heir
Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks
All characters belong to Pixelberry.
Catch Up Here
If you’re new to Sapere Aude, please click the link above to start from the beginning. There’s so much going on right now that you’ll be way too confused to start from this point. Plus, there are some major bombshells that won’t be as fun if you read this and get a bunch of spoilers.
Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.
Rating: PG-13 Adult language, discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.
Trigger Warning: A brief moment of physical abuse.
Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.
Disclaimer: I have no current affiliation with any other Via Imperii themed stories. Any claims that I have pre-read anything are false.
Word Count: 3,435
A/N: Guys, we’re really in the home stretch now, we’re slowly but surely getting some resolutions. I finished this up the other day, and am already halfway through the next chapter. I’m hoping to have the series completely written by the end of the weekend or early next week. I have some really exciting and unexpected things coming, and I can’t wait to share them with you!
Thank you, as always, to the amazing, @phoenixrising308 (<--- my fandom soulmate, you may know her as @jessiembruno, follow her new account so you don’t miss a second of her incredible work) & @txemrn. And to @twinkleallnight for my lovely moodboard!
Tags: Listed below, hit me up to be added or removed.
Liam’s eyes fluttered open, his wife slowly coming into focus in front of him. She was already awake, and smiled at him as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Morning.” She greeted him softly.
“Hi.” He placed a hand on her cheek and leaned in, leaving a lingering kiss on her lips.
“Do you want to talk? Drake texted me, he got Eleanor out of bed, so we have some time.” Liam silently nodded his head. Riley removed his hand from her cheek and kissed his palm before sitting up and leaning back against the headboard.
Liam rolled onto his back, stretching his arms over his head with a groan before sitting up next to Riley, taking her hand in his. “And I thought our wedding was an eventful day.” He chuckled lightly.
“Liam, real talk.” Riley replied, combing the fingers of her free hand through his hair.
“I...I feel like I got some closure. I needed that moment. When it was just you telling me that she was alive, it was easy to ignore, or pretend it wasn’t real. But with her standing in front of me, I had to face the truth, face what she did to me. And now she truly knows how much she hurt me. I can move on now, and truly put her in the past.”
Riley smiled at him. “That’s great, I’m so proud of you. I also noticed that you told Thomas you still wanted a relationship with him?”
“He holds no responsibility for what happened, he was born into a life that he had no control over.” Liam’s expression became more pensive as he spoke about Thomas.
“And you understand the feeling, so you’re cutting him some slack.”
Liam nodded. “Sort of, we were both born with certain responsibilities and expectations, I can understand his feelings of obligation. As much as I missed out by losing my mother, and him, he lost out on even more. He was supposed to be a prince, he is a prince, and he’s lived as a commoner his whole life. We both missed out on so much by not having each other, like we should have. I can’t get that time back, but I can try to make up for it moving forward.”
“You’re amazing Liam, you know that right?” Riley looked at him adoringly.
He brought his hand to her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “You may have mentioned it once or twice before.” He leaned in and kissed her. “You know, I didn’t get a chance to properly show you how happy I am to have you home and safe.” He kissed her again, this time pulling her into his lap.
She giggled as his lips began working their way down her neck. “Liam, we don’t have time right now. I’m sure everyone is waiting for us. Rain check?”
Liam lifted his head and placed his forehead against hers. “You promise?” He kissed her softly on the nose.
“Have I ever let you down in that department?”
“Never.” He kissed her deeply, running his hands down her back until they rested on the curves of her ass.
“Good, then let’s go.” She kissed him one last time before getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
Once they were ready, they headed downstairs and headed to the smaller dining room. Eleanor noticed them immediately and charged at her mother. “Mommy!”
Riley lifted her daughter into her arms and held her close for a moment before pulling away and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Hey baby girl, were you a good hostess to our guests while mommy and daddy were away?”
“Yes mommy, the best hostess!” As Riley brushed some hair out of Eleanor’s face, Eleanor noticed the marks on Riley’s wrist where she had been bound the day before. “You have a boo-boo mommy.”
“I know baby, I do.” She held her wrist out so Eleanor could look at it.
“I can fix it.” Eleanor grabbed Riley’s hand and brought her wrist to her lips, kissing the marks with a loud smacking sound. “There you go mommy, all better now.” She smiled at her mother proudly.
Liam looked on, quickly swallowing the lump that formed in his throat at the sight. In that moment, it hit him again that not only would he have lost his wife, the best thing that had ever happened to him, but Eleanor would have lost her mother. He quickly shook off the thought, everyone was safe, and they were about to take steps to eliminate their greatest threat.
“Thank you Eleanor, it feels so much better.” Riley gave her one last hug before putting her back down. “Why don’t you go see Miss Gladys, she’ll take you into the kitchen to get something to eat. We need to have a grown up breakfast.”
Eleanor nodded and ran out of the room in search of Gladys. Riley and Liam approached the table as their friends stood to greet them. “Sit down weirdos, this isn’t a royal function, this is breakfast with friends.” Riley waived them off as everyone sat at the table. It was silent for a moment, nobody quite sure how to break the silence. “So I guess we should start by addressing the elephant in the room. Neville and Mara kidnapped me yesterday. Before you start with me; I’m fine, Neville has been arrested, Mara is dead.”
“Good riddance.” Olivia interrupted. The group laughed at her comment, breaking some of the tension in the room.
Their friends listened with bated breath as Riley and Liam recalled the events from the day before. Riley told them about the kidnapping, and everything that transpired between her and Neville. She told them how Eleanor had come to her rescue, Liam tensing slightly, as this was the first time he had heard that part of the story. She went on to explain that Liam had come face to face with Eleanor, and how proud she was of him for confronting her and lifting that huge weight of his chest.
Liam picked up the story from there, explaining that he said what he needed to say to get the closure he needed with his mother, and that he wanted to try to build some kind of a relationship with Thomas. He still wasn’t sure what that relationship would look like, but he was excited to find out.
“So where do we go from here?” Maxwell asked, once the group had been fully caught up.
“Well, we need to squash the Auvernal thing once and for all, and I think there’s only one way to do that.” Riley said. It was something she had been thinking about since the meeting where revisiting the alliance came up. “We’re going to have to release the information we got when we destroyed the alliance the first time. The only way we are going to put an end to this is to tell the world that the twins are not blood heirs to the throne.”
“But what if this group tries to spin it, or screw with the records?” Drake asked. Nobody was quite sure how to answer that, but it was a legitimate concern.
“We out the Via Imperii. If they’re a secret society, announcing that they were behind the kidnapping of our Queen, and were trying to push forward a marriage alliance with heirs that do not have true birthright to the throne will knock them off their high horse.” Olivia stated.
“But how do we know they know?”
Riley tapped her fingers against the table, thinking for a moment before chiming in. “We don’t Max, that’s fair. But they probably do, they seem to know just about everything else. Even if they don’t, they’re not going to hold their own press conference to contradict us. It kind of goes against their whole being a secret thing.”
“Very well, I will make sure to get a press conference scheduled in the coming days to make the announcements.” Liam chimed in. “I will also set up an emergency council meeting to inform them of our decision, and also move things forward with Neville.”
“What are you going to do to him? Can I be the executioner?” The excitement in Drake’s voice made Riley and Maxwell giggle, while Olivia rolled her eyes.
Liam chuckled lightly before responding. “I have thoroughly thought out his punishment, we will review it in the council meeting tomorrow.” He cleared his throat before moving on to the next open item. “Finally, I have promised Thomas and his mother that the crown would protect them for their assistance in saving Riley. Nobody knows about Thomas’s connection to the crown, or my family, so he will not need to remain in hiding. However, he is going to be a target of the Via Imperii, so he will no longer be able to guard my family. I do have a position in mind for him, I would like him to work with Bastien and I to completely overhaul the guard program.”
“It’s about damn time.” Olivia scoffed.
“I agree, Olivia. Regrettably, I have let the current program go far too long, and it almost cost my wife her life.” He reached over, taking Riley’s hand in his, offering an apologetic smile. “We absolutely cannot let another Mara slip through the cracks. With his intimate knowledge of the Via Imperii, I feel that he would be a great asset.” He paused as the room nodded in agreement. “As for his mother, she was a notable figure in Cordonia for many years, so she will need to remain in hiding. We will need to set her up in a safe house with a team of guards.”
Olivia cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. “I can house her in Lythikos.” All heads snapped in her direction, and she sat a little taller in her seat to overcompensate for the discomfort she felt in that moment. “When I was a child, she showed me a kindness I had never known at a time when I needed it most. Liam, I respect your decision not to reconnect with her because of what she did to you, I hope you can respect my decision to want to help her because of what she did for me.”
Liam nodded. “Absolutely Olivia, as long as she and I do not cross paths, I will put her in your care.”
“Ok, so we have all the work stuff out of the way. There’s a plan, nobody is in any immediate danger. Can we please relax and have a nice breakfast and enjoy what’s left of our getaway weekend?” Maxwell asked dramatically.
“Amen to that.” Riley replied, pulling her napkin from the table and placing it in her lap. The group dug into their food, the mood much lighter than it had been when Liam and Riley arrived.
The next day Liam walked out of the state room. He had just adjourned the emergency meeting of the Royal Council to discuss everything that had been uncovered during their trip to Valtoria. He rushed to catch Drake, who had slipped out while Liam was still shaking hands and saying his goodbyes to the other council members. “Drake, hold on a moment.”
Drake stopped walking and turned to face his friend. “Hey Li, what’s up? I was just going to head home.”
“I was actually hoping you could help me out with something. I’m heading down to the cells to personally deliver the news to Neville.”
Drake’s lips curled up into a devious smile. “And you want me to be there to see it all go down? Liam, I’m speechless. It’s not even my birthday.”
Liam chuckled and patted his friend on the shoulder. “Well, it’s not just for you to bask in his misery, I need your assistance.” His expression turned serious before he continued. “Drake, after what he did to Riley, I don’t trust myself alone with him. I need you to be there to pull me off in case I go too far.”
“Li, you know I’m always there for you for anything you need, but do you really think I’m the best person to stop someone from hurting Neville? Honestly, I can’t even guarantee that I won’t jump in and throw a couple of punches myself.”
“Then we will bring Bastien along as well, but I would really appreciate it if I had you by my side for this.”
Drake nodded, and the two of them headed for the cells with Bastien in tow. When they arrived, Bastien took Neville from his cell and put him in one of the interrogation rooms. They waited before entering, giving him time to sit alone with his thoughts. Once Liam felt he had waited long enough he looked to Drake and the two entered the room together. Drake stepped back into the corner as Liam approached Neville, who was sitting at a table, but stood immediately upon the King’s entry.
“Ah, so you are capable of showing respect to your betters. I had heard otherwise.” Liam took a seat, signaling for Neville to do the same.
Neville scoffed. “Your majesty, I always have. Your queen just doesn’t happen to be one of them.”
“Oops, wrong answer.” Drake chimed in from the back corner.
Liam shot up from his seat. He charged at Neville on the other side of the table, lifting him by the front of his shirt and holding his gaze. “How dare you speak of your queen, my wife, that way.”
“Liam, why don’t you give him the good news, before you beat the shit out of him? That way he’ll be able to fully appreciate it. I know I will.” At Drake’s words, Liam released Neville who shot an angry glance in Drake’s direction. Drake winked at him.
“Of course Drake, thank you for keeping me on task.” Liam straightened his jacket and returned to his place at the table, sliding a folder across it to Neville. “Neville, you have officially been stripped of all of your titles and lands. This paperwork will provide you with the specifics, but as of about an hour ago, you are no longer a noble.”
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, shocked at the new development. “You mean I am a…” He trailed off, unable to utter the word.
“You’re a commoner, just like me!” Drake cheerily finished Neville’s sentence for him.
Liam raised a hand to silence his friend. He was enjoying this just as much as Drake was, but as King he did need to keep an heir of levelheadedness about him. “You will also be tried with treason for kidnapping Queen Riley. Your trial will begin next week, and I don’t think you need me to tell you, but I will. It is not looking promising for you Mr. Vancoeur.”
Neville crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. “Wonderful, just let me know when the execution is to take place.”
“Oh Neville.” Liam laughed as he stood, once again walking to the other side of the table. “Do you really think you are going to be let off that easily?” Neville cocked an eyebrow as Liam got in his face, his demeanor calmer than before. “I have final say in all sentencing, and for you I have something in mind that will make you pray for death. You will be spending the remainder of your days in your cell, eating food that doesn't even register on the Michelin guide, knowing that you have no status, no pull. The life you once knew, a distant memory as you sit here for decades to come. That is the worst possible punishment I am able to bestow as your King.” Neville leaned back and audibly gulped. “As far as the punishment I am able to bestow as a husband…” Liam squared his shoulders and brought his fist back before thrusting it forward, making hard and fast contact with Neville’s jaw, knocking him out of his chair and onto the floor. As he laid there holding his face, Liam approached once more, this time kicking Neville swiftly in the ribs. “How dare you lay a hand on my wife.” He crouched down on the ground, lifting Neville by his shirt. “Please know that there is more I would like to do to you, but you are not worth any more of my time. Just remember that my American commoner wife will be up there enjoying every luxury in the world, as she deserves, while you rot away down here dreaming of the life you once had.”
Liam landed one last punch to Neville’s face before letting go of his shirt and watching his head hit the ground. He then slumped over, breathing heavily as the adrenaline began to wear off. Drake approached him and patted him on the shoulder lightly. “C’mon buddy, let’s get out of here. You got what you came for.”
Liam nodded silently as his friend helped him to his feet. Drake draped an arm around Liam’s shoulder and walked with him out of the room. He looked at Bastien, who had been waiting at the door and signaled for him to return Neville to his cell. Bastien gave Drake a curt nod and retreated to the interrogation room as Drake and Liam made their way back to the main area of the palace.
When they reached the foyer, Drake stopped Liam before he reached the steps. “Hey, are you okay? Do you want to go to your office for a drink or something?”
Liam brushed him off. “I’m fine Drake, I’m just going to head up to my quarters and relax with my family.” He extended his hand to Drake. “Thank you for coming with me today.”
“Of course man. Any time, any place. You know that.” Drake shook his hand and pulled him into a hug, clapping him on the back before pulling away. “I’m going to call you later to check in.”
Liam gave him a small smile before turning and heading up the stairs towards his chambers. Upon entering, he was greeted by an empty living room. “Riley?” He called out.
“Bedroom.” He heard her faint reply from the hallway and followed the sound of her voice.
He entered the room as she was exiting her walk-in closet holding multiple hangers. “I mean honestly, I love my life and how much you spoil me, but do I really need this many black dresses?” She let out an exasperated sigh before looking up and noticing Liam. “What happened? What’s wrong?” She dropped the dresses she was holding and rushed up to him.
“I just got back from the cells.”
“Liam Rys, what did you do?” Riley placed her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow.
“He’s fine, the medics will bandage him up. I’m sure losing his title hurt him much more than I did.” He grabbed her hands off of her hips and brought them to his lips. “He hurt you, Riley. He tried to take you away from me. I know he’s going to be punished for what he did, but it won’t ever be enough.”
Riley lifted his hand, examining it. It was red, bruises already beginning to form at the knuckles. She kissed each knuckle softly. “Come on, let’s ice it before it gets too bad.” She held onto his hand, leading him into the kitchen. “Sit.” she pointed to the kitchen table.
Hey obeyed, sitting at the table as she went to the freezer, pulling out an ice pack and wrapping it in a dish towel. She joined him at the table, sitting on his lap, and taking his injured hand in hers once more. She pressed the ice pack to his knuckles, he hissed slightly at the feeling. She pressed her lips to his in a lingering kiss as she continued to hold the ice to his hand. “To distract you from the pain.” She said with a wink as she pulled away.
“You have always been my favorite distraction.” He brought his free hand to her face, pulling her into a deeper kiss. “When is Eleanor due back?”
“Mmm..a little over an hour.” She cooed.
“Perfect, that will be more than enough time.”
“For what?”
“For me to cash in my rain check from yesterday.” Liam removed his hand from under the ice pack and lifted Riley bridal style to the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them.
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