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couchpotatoaniki · 5 months ago

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Peace

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Tags: fluff, like, major fluff, this is for all my fellow muslim ARMYs wanting to read something soft during Ramadan, if you have a problem with both of the characters being muslim, kindly just click off it :)) Ramadan Mubarak everyone!

Glossary:

Sehri (sometimes referred to as Suhoor)--the morning meal you eat just before beginning your fast, eaten just before sunrise (before Fajr, the morning prayer)

Iftari (sometimes referred to as Fatoor or Iftar)--the evening meal you eat to break your fast, eaten at sunset (at Maghrib, the evening prayer)

Nikah--an Islamic marriage contract, consented to by both the groom and the bride of their own free will and outlines the rights of both parties. The contract goes to the bride first so she is able to add any conditions to the marriage.

Dunya--the secular, temporary world that is followed by the Akhirah (the Hereafter, or Afterlife)

A soft melody lingers in the still air, coaxing the both of you out of your sleep. It's time to get up for sehri--you find it easier than Namjoon to wake up because you have been doing this for many years. Your husband, however, is experiencing his first Ramadan and so is having a harder time at opening his eyes when the sweetness of sleep lulls him right back to that dark and warm cocoon.

Groaning softly, you sit up and turn the alarm off, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you take a minute to gather yourself. The soft glow of the moonlight and lampposts barely peak through the curtains but the gentle light catches your eye for a moment. Like the kindest call from Allah to awaken.

You shift your gaze over to your husband currently losing his battle to wake up, and you press your lips to his temple and rub your hand along his arm. "Wake up, my love," you whisper, voice still a little groggy and tired but it's still the most melodic thing he has ever heard, half-asleep or not.

But is it enough to wake the sleeping beauty? You think not, when his soft snores start up again. A thought drifts into your mind, whether this was how your sister felt when it was time to wake you up to put your fast. Your mother was always yelling at you and your siblings to get up otherwise you'll won't have enough time to eat. But your big sister always woke you in a gentle way that made your whole day feel a lot easier.

So you try again, with another soft kiss to his head and more murmurs into his ear and this time he does manage to open his eyes with a groan and turn around to face you.

His eyes have adjusted to the darkness and so the little light peaking through the curtains does nothing less than make him feel like you're an angel. It's funny, because the way it hits his face--highlighting the cut of his jaw and softness of his brown eyes as he gazes at you--you think the same of him.

His arms wrap around you beneath the covers and pulls you down to lie on top of his chest. "Joon, no, we need to get up and make food."

"Don't wanna get up," he sighs. "So tired."

"I know," you chuckle, as he lifts your hand and presses a kiss of his own against your palm and rests it on the space above his heart.

You allow a few moments of comfortable silence to stretch between you two before you open your mouth to speak--but Namjoon beats you to it. "What do you want to eat?"

"Honestly? Nothing. I'm too full from last night's iftar."

He huffs in slight amusement. "Same here. Just wanna go back to sleep."

You raise your head to jokingly glare at him. "Don't you dare, it was a pain to wake you up."

Namjoon returns the expression with a leisurely smile. "Wasn't for me. Felt nice, actually." Playfully tapping his arm with a light smack to his chest. "Hey," he laughs, "isn't this the month to not be violent?"

"I'm not beholden to anything before the sun rises and after it sets."

"Is that so?" he replies with amusement, and rolls the both of you over. His face hovers over yours as he gazes into your eyes with a love that fills him to point where he thinks his heart might burst for a moment.

His fingers absentmindedly tangles with yours, fiddling with the ring he slipped onto you hand all those months ago on the day of your Nikah. It fits like a glove and feels so natural to have you rarely ever take off unless it's in danger of getting damaged. Sometimes you find yourself getting lost in the cut of the gems and the simple design--which upon closer inspection has intricate details engraved within the band. It was never about how expensive it was but how 'you' it was. How in one simple item, it felt like proof that Namjoon knew the layout of your soul as if it was a map of his favourite place in the dunya and akhirah combined.

"Right," you huff, pushing against his chest, "let's go." He lifts off of you, missing the warmth of your embrace already but he doesn't let go of you hand, pulling you up along with him.

Though you seem to find it easier to wake up than he does, he still is able to see the grogginess of your movements, limbs and eyes heavy and hard to move with the promise of sleep weighing you down. Today he'll make food for the two of you, even though you both tag-team it in the morning, he just feels like taking over today so you get to relax a little.

With much protest from you, he makes you sit down as he prepares the usual small meal of yogurt, fruits, and some kind of porridge so at least you both have the proper sustenance for the day without stuffing yourselves until you're so sick you can barely move. You chuckle as you recount your mother making these heavy cultural dishes in the morning and how hardly anyone--even your father--were able to finish the food with ease.

He was glad you left those particular dishes for iftari since even thinking about eating something that heavy and filling made his stomach turn. Though maybe he wouldn't have the same problem if he didn't overeat at iftar, but neither of you seemed to learn that lesson.

Tired, the two of you sat together and ate in silence, having enough time to chug down as much water as possible before reading the Fajr prayer in the dimly-lit room, the only other things awake are the birds tweeting harmoniously outside before the sun starts to fully rise.

There's a peace between you two, this early in the morning, that feels raw and vulnerable in a way it only can during the morning prayer, when most of the world is asleep and it's just you and him and the birds and a presence you can't quite explain but it's the most comfort either of you have felt through the day.

As the two of you make your way back to bed, Namjoon can't help but think that while this month was made for many reasons--to get closer to Allah, to remember the poor, to find a new appreciation for all that you have, through the test of thirst and hunger (of food and water and of other things too)--he knows he made the right decision by marrying you simply from the fact that you ground him. You making him feel at peace and when you're around, it feels less like a difficult test he's struggling to pass as a new Muslim who's still getting the hang of everything.

He can only hope he makes you feel the same way--and the way you snuggle into his chest beneath the covers as his arms wrap around you, your breathing evening out within record time, you do feel that peace and comfort with him.

In the dark room, broken by the thin soft glow of the beginning of daylight, he sends a silent prayer from his heart to Allah before he drifts off to sleep, and that is to keep the two of you together for as long as possible in the dunya, and forever in the Hereafter.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #bts rm #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #fluff

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couchpotatoaniki · 5 months ago

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couchpotatoaniki · 8 months ago

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Dear Supporter,

I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Eman Zaqout from Gaza. I am reaching you out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my job due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions. 💔

I kindly ask you to visit my campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom. 🙏🕊

Note: Verified by several people as 90-ghost and aces-and-angels. ☑

https://gofund.me/b141d50f 🔗

Thank you so much for sharing your link, and I hope your pain will ease soon ❤️❤️

To everyone else, please repost/share and donate if possible!!!

#free 🍉

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couchpotatoaniki · 8 months ago

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Hello, I am Samah Sami from the Gaza Strip. I am appealing to you to help me and support me by buying a tent and providing a safe shelter for my children and providing them with food and basic needs. Look at us kindly, I look to you with hope and confidence to help me. Your contribution will help save my family. Please do not hesitate to help me. Please enter, donate and share on my page. Thank you 😭😭❤️🙏🇵🇸🇵🇸 https://gofund.me/3d4779a5 https://gofund.me/3d4779a5

Thanks for sending the link to your gofundme, hopefully you're able to get the things you need. Stay strong and I'll pray for you ❤️❤️❤️

To everyone else, please repost and donate if possible!!!!

#free 🍉

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couchpotatoaniki · 8 months ago

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I feel like the reason certain dog-lovers insist cats are evil is because they read their body language as if they were dogs. So here’s a very basic guide to common “mean” things cats do that actually aren’t mean at all if you know what they’re thinking.

Rolling and exposing belly- attacks you when touched Does not mean: Give belly rubs! - haha I tricked you! Actually means: I’m playful! If you reach for my belly I’ll grab your arm and bite it because I think we’re playfighting!

Lazily exposing belly - still attacks when touched Does not mean: tricked you again! Actually means: I’m showing you my belly because I trust you. Please don’t break that trust by invading my personal space. I might accept a belly rub if I’m not ticklish and I know you well. Snapping at you while being pet Does not mean: I suddenly decided I dislike you! Actually means: You’re petting me in a way that gives me too much restless energy. Please focus on petting my head and shoulders instead of stroking the full length of my back next time.

Is in the same room but makes no attempt to interact Does not mean: I’m ignoring you Actually means: We’re hanging out! I’m being respectful by giving you space while still enjoying your company. Slapping/scratching your hand when you try to pet them Does not mean: I hate you! Actually means: You’ve failed to establish that we’re not playing, or the way you’re approaching me scares me. Be calmer, speak more gently, make eye-contact and blink slowly at me before you try again.

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couchpotatoaniki · 1 year ago

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BTS Who-Does-It: Song Edition (Idk What Vibe this is But it's a Vibe ver.)

All the songs I've chosen are some personal favs from what I like to refer to as my Daddy Issues playlist lmao. I don't think these songs are really accurate to each member so I've just done mini little stories for each one based off the lyrics and vibe.

Tw: vaguely explicit content, explicit language, references to alcohol use

Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood is this person's theme song.

If Arctic Monkeys had to choose someone to represent Do I Wanna Know?, it would be this person.

Who is basically DEVILISH by Chase Atlantic?

Crush by Ethel Cain manifested this person.

Who was the inspiration of House of Balloons by The Weeknd?

Who is the embodiment of Marvin's Room by Drake?

Who has the same vibes as In the Essence by ¿Téo?

A few honourable mentions bc why not?

Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood

Teenage Fever by Drake

Billie Bosa Nova by Billie Eilish

Belong to the City by PARTYNEXTDOOR

Own It by Drake

23 by Chase Atlantic

My answers are under the cut but please feel free to send me your answers in the ask box!

1. 'Sweater Weather' by The Neighbourhood is this person's theme song:

The sluttiest thing a man can wear is a sweater, but the way Namjoon's muscles stretch the fabric deliciously hits that spot in your stomach just right. You shouldn't really think of your neighbour this way, but you can't help appreciating the sight of the man through your window--though it's not like he doesn't return the favour back to you. You see the way his eyes dance over your form, especially when you wear those comfy little high-waisted shorts that leave little to the imagination. Heated looks and short, loaded exchanges are the most you get until someone ends up at the others' place. When you're with him, he won't let you leave to face the cold outside all by yourself, not when the beaches you both live by (which he hates but sticks around for you) seem to make the air even chillier with their winds from the sea.

God, the thin shirts you wear leave your neck exposed and he wonders if feels as cold as your hands do, if it'll warm up if he wraps one of his hands around it. He so desperately wants to take care of you--loves taking care of you as if it's the only thing that makes sense, so when it gets cold enough for sweater weather and especially when the skies looks grey enough to unleash even a small trickle of rain, he'll pull you right in into his house to keep dry. Pulls you into his arms and offers up his own sweater to keep you warm. Or he won't and he'll keep you warm in a different way that doesn't involve any clothing.

2. If Arctic Monkeys had to choose someone to represent 'Do I Wanna Know?', it would be this person:

Hoseok normally is talker, a bright ray around people with a social battery to be envious of. Hoseok with a crush, however? That man is generally one of few words, afraid to spill that confession that sits right at the tip of his tongue. When he falls, he falls hard and deep and it feels vaguely maddening, even more so when he doesn't know if you feel the same and needs to keep it to himself. He wants you so damn bad to the point where he thinks of you in his drunken stupor, comes up with songs about you, calls you half-conscious just so the last thing he hears is your voice as he falls asleep. Sometimes he wishes you'd call him like that.

You could be together, if you wanted to, if you'd just give him the word and he'd kiss you like he dreamed he would. He'd fuck you like he dreamed he would, the way he can't fuck anyone else when you're the only thing on his mind. But until then, he'll keep his mouth shut (except for through his songs, they're all quite telling) and just keep crawling back to you because he can't let you go.

3. Who is basically 'DEVILISH' by Chase Atlantic?

Yoongi makes no pretence to show himself as anything he's not--but what he is isn't really socially acceptable so he puts barriers up, makes himself distant and cold. Then by some random coincidence he meets you, sweet and kind and definitely to innocent for him. Well, he doesn't know if 'innocent' is the right word, not when he catches flickers of something when you look at him. Something... corruptible. Lord knows someone who's thrown himself in Hell and let it consume every fibre of his being shouldn't think someone like that, never mind touch them.

You're the Good one, the type to follow the rules and have a healthy work-life balance, deserving of the white picket-fence suburban wetdream with a good partner who treats you like he loves you, like you're the angel deserving of worship. He has demons and the last thing they would do is get on their knees for anyone--they'd rather make you do that instead. But you're too sweet for him to do that so for this, at least, he tries to make an effort of resisting. He wants you to settle down with someone else because he's absolutely no good for you. But there's only so many times the devil can refuse you, especially when you willingly worship him with your hands and tongue and body like he's some god deserving of your affection.

4. 'Crush' by Ethel Cain manifested this person:

When you've got a family like Jungkook does--overachieving brother, emotionally unstable mother, absentee father, the works--you don't really blame him for being the way he is. It's basically a stereotype at this point and he doesn't really care all too much about going against the grain, just against society or whatever the hell that means. There's something captivating about about him, though, you see the influence of the crowd he hangs around with as clear as day--it's what most people see--but you also see a bit of the good boy in him. The one still hanging onto to the cliff edge by the skin of his teeth to not be a total disappointment and fall into the waves of depravity. It's losing day by day since he has a problem saying 'no', but you don't mind that. And he doesn't mind you knowing that.

He won't admit it, but he likes you as his ride-or-die. Likes as the one he tells his shit to, the one he fucks in the back of his mum's Mercury, the one who knows he's not as tough as tries to make himself look and is still in his corner after he gets pummelled on the streets for doing something stupid. Your own parents are concerned about the company you keep, about his company, but you don't particularly care because it doesn't really matter in the end anyway. Good men die too, so you'd rather be with him for however long life has a hold on you.

5. Who is the inspiration of 'House of Balloons' by The Weeknd?

The man is a viper, a classic charmer with hypnotic eyes and lips that spill alluring words that convince you to do almost anything. Seokjin is not dissimilar to a Venus flytrap, but since he met you once again--an old face that he had forgotten from when he was a kid--he's only really had one thing he's wanted to consume. Adulthood changed you into something he wants to keep all to himself, far from the naivety you both shared in childhood. Close once and all of a sudden distance came between the two of you and then you became just another memory among memories at the back of his mind. But seeing you in the flesh at a random club, he can't ever remember a reason why he forgot you in the first place.

You barely recognise him when he reintroduces himself to you, but flickers of the boy you once knew still ghost in his features, and it clicks in place. But there's something about this new version of Seokjin that intrigues you, and you can't ignore how this new interest forms in your lower stomach as something warm. You see the hunger in his eyes, and you know that were he to take you to his place, he'd never let you leave again. And when you get there later in the night, you don't think you'd mind his monopoly over you--not if he makes you feel this good.

6. Who is the embodiment of 'Marvin's Room' by Drake?

It's been a while since you and Jimin broke up--a few years give or take--but he was never able to forget you. He indulges himself with all sorts just to fill that void your absence left in him. But tonight seems to be some sort of breaking point where he just can't ignore how no matter what he does, that void never fills quite enough as he'd like it to. So with something strong in his system--tequila or vodka, he can't quite remember right now--he rings you up. and from how you pick up his call, he knows that the lucky bastard you're with right now is not around.

But that relationship had ended not too long ago so you didn't feel guilty picking up his call--not as much as you did when you were trying to get over him by getting under someone else and it still not working. He plagued you mind, regardless of all the bad that surrounded the ending of your breakup, and recently you've just felt so alone that you pick up even while your friends' voices scream at you not to. You can tell he's drunk, but you're eventually a bit tipsy too from a glass that magically appears in your hand. The next thing you know, he's at your door and underneath the stench of alcohol and smoke and whatever remnants of the club he was at, he still has that unique intoxicating smell you miss. It doesn't take long for your bodies to collide, clothes left haphazardly on the floor, and for him to warm the sheet you felt were so cold earlier in the night.

7. Who has the same vibes as 'In the Essence' by ¿Téo?

Taehyung never expected you at his door, soaked to bone in the middle of a storm like this. He especially doesn't expect someone he would loosely consider as a office rival that he respected at his door, dressed up as if you were out someplace nice and fancy. He can spot the rainfall dripping through your necklace and rings, the way it highlights all the curves and divots of your body and makes your well-fitted outfit a bit see-through. Well, a lot see-through. Little is left to his imagination and his brain has a short moment to rewire itself until he remembers you're still standing in the freezing rain with little in the way of layers to keep you warm. Inviting you in, he can't seem to ignore that familiar need in his chest, in his dick whenever you and your smart mouth are around.

It's over a cup of warm herbal tea, and a quick explanation of a botched date that left you stranded in a nearby restaurant, that those guards in your eyes he hates so much begin to crumble and you both start divulging in conversation that feels too intimate for late in the night to be safe. At one point, he notices that you've both eaten up the space on the sofa, used mugs forgotten on the coffee table, and both of your hands start wondering. He can see that shadow in your mind, tempting you into giving into him like he's been secretly begging you to do for years now. Sees it growing louder as your hips sway gently against him and he prays that if you give him a chance, he'll change. Would be the thing you need in life, because there is no going back from having you like this, vulnerable and open with him in a way you never were before--and mixed in with the smell of rain and your perfume, it becomes the most addictive essence he can't bare to part with.

#idek if i should call it a who-does-it #these scenarios also got longer and longer with each one lmao #but since i'm the one writing it #i make the rules #so i say it's a who-does-it #...i'm just fighting myself atp #bts #author aniki #who.does.it #bts scenarios

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couchpotatoaniki · 1 year ago

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An Annoying Kind of Pretty

Pairing: College Rival!Jungkook x College!Reader (British college, so basically senior year in highschool--they're 18) Word count: 4k+ Tags: mega fluff, light swearing, mentions of very mild violence (banter...maybe), mentions of clowns, reader is terrified of them, honestly, just cute shit, and they're being idiots A/N: I'm in the middle of reading Highly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute by Talia Hibbert and this just sprung to mind soooooooo yeah

No matter how much you scrub, you can't get this darn plate clean. At this point, you're ready to smash it to pieces so you don't have to spend another second on it. But, alas, this is not your dish and therefore dish-smashing rights are revoked. A true travesty, considering how ugly the damn thing looks anyway. Society would be better off without it.

But you scrub, scrub, scr--"Are you done?" A deep voice rumbles behind you. Involuntarily, your eyes close to hide the annoyance flickering through them, lest he somehow sees through the obscured reflection of the kitchen window. This time you've spent together has taught you he's almost decent at guessing body language (almost--he's still otherwise a useless male).

Gosh, if only you could destroy the plate and take a shard to one of his annoyingly pretty brown eyes. Honestly, the fact that a man like him has such wonderful features is what you'd consider to be a crime that nature has committed.

"What does it look like?" Yeah, maybe you should relax your jaw before your teeth grind to dust. Your dentist would have a heartattack if she saw the stress they've put them under lately (she likes to talk about them like they're some separate entity, a bit odd but she's sweet and likes to rant about her cats so you can happily bare it).

"Looks like you're slacking off."

Excuse me? "Maybe I'd be more efficient if you didn't leave your dishes to grow a mini ecosystem in your kitchen. You're likely worshiped as a god by bacteria since you created them their own little world."

He rolls his eyes. This you can't see through the haze of his reflection on the slightly filthy window but you've somehow grown accustomed to his mannerisms. Like a shitty superpower.

"Don't be so dra--"

"If you dare say 'dramatic', the next thing I'll be cleaning are your insides off the floor and countertops."

His reflection raises a hand in mock surrender. "Touché. But for your information, I don't live here."

This makes you turn around, pinning him with a glare. "If you don't live here, which ogre or troll does?"

"My brother. But he's been... ah, what's the word--" he waves his hand in a circular motion with his eyes closed, only to open again at the snap of his fingers--"backpacking across mainland Europe for past three months."

A huff leaves your nose as you return to the gruelling task at hand. You're going to need a shower after this, maybe two, just to make sure you don't catch the Black Plague or some other disease that would trigger another pandemic. "Then why am I here?"

"Because you owe me, remember?"

"Yes, you--not your brother that can't even remember to put away his dishes before he goes on stupidly basic holidays."

"'Stupidly basic'?" Jungkook's frame hobbles into the corner of your eye as he mocks you with a smirk. Darn him and his unusually large (and unfortunately well sculpted) build. A disgustingly natural beauty that demands attention, but you'd rather poke your eye repeatedly than admit that to him lest his cocky smirk and big head grow more than it already has.

Yet, you can't help a glance in his direction. Props to you though, your face managed to not betray your soul and remained in it's usual disinterested state.

"If I had a penny for every time I've heard someone backpacking across Europe, I'd be so rich I wouldn't have to pay you back with my services."

"Considering you sprained my wrist and my ankle, I'd request both payment in money and services."

The thought of the Incidents sent and involuntary shudder down your spine. About two weeks ago, you were minding your own business in the library, one thing led to another and long story short, you accidently pushed the usually well-balanced hulking man onto the hardwood floor and his hand landed at a funky angle. Less than 72 hours had passed and various shenanigans ensued involving 12 glue sticks, streamers, a helium tank, and an unwanted clown roaming the gymnasium which led to his second trip to Accident and Emergency.

In all fairness, he shouldn't have even been there helping to set up the farewell assembly for the final years in the first place. His fault, really, but he wouldn't hear of it since you did crash into him as you were running away from a definite (maybe) psycho killer.

"How many times do I have to apologise," you huff.

His finger taps his chin in mock thought. "Preferably forever, seeing as though I am having to limit my activities while it's the summer holidays before we go off to uni. But I suppose having you as my little servant until I get better is decent enough."

You send him another glare before carrying on. Almost spotless, this dish. "This is abuse of power."

He raised his cast as well as a deadpanned expression onto his face. "And this was just regular abuse."

"It was self-defence."

"Against me or the very innocent clown you claimed was 'chasing' you?"

"Both. And he was chasing me. I was terrified."

"Remind me when your birthday is?"

"Why?"

"No particular reason. Certainly not a clown-related one for retaliation. None whatsoever."

Your head turns so quickly to him that it almost gives you whiplash. "You dare."

"We'll just have to see."

Huffing, you finish up the last of the dishes, with Jungkook sat on the countertop beside yours (with a bit of difficulty). Guilt begins to bleed out of your heart and pool into a warmth in your cheeks as you once more mumble an apology to him, the dishes suddenly looking more appealing for your eyes to land on. "I... I really am sorry, though."

He sighs--as he usually does when you once more feel horrible about the state he is in and try to voice it. "Stop that."

For the millionth time, you purse your lips, ready to let a few beats of silence pass before you could say something to return it back to that annoyingly fun hateful banter than the heavy and suffocating air that follows an apology. Jungkook, however, did not care for your mental plans (you don't really think he cares about much of anything besides his grades, friends, and snacks like a typical man).

"Can I... admit something to you? So, like, Truce?"

"...Truce." You reach out for a cloth to wipe anything left on the countertop, but ears keenly remained on him.

"I'm kinda... glad you fucked up my arm." You send him an incredulous look, to which he blurts in response, "don't get me wrong, it hurts like shit and I'm no masochist, but having you here doing my bidding--" his lips quirked at the sight of you murderous glare, "--and keeping me company is... nice."

"...'Nice'." The word feels funny to your ears as you hear it, and even funnier when you speak it.

"Yes, nice." His feet swing a little, his head hanging a little sheepishly. "My friends are cool and all, but you're, like, really fun to piss off." Okay, you might actually end up killing him. "And we don't really hang out all that often during the holidays. Plus, you've got a different vibe to you that I think is... nice--" There's that fucking word again, how on earth did he get higher marks than you in English? "--and my parents work a lot regardless so having you as company is, I suppose, ni--"

"Get a grip, dude." Your eyes roll by themselves. "You're rambling."

His lips pout and his cheeks puff to make a ridiculous (yet adorable) face of a child being lightly scolded for no reason. "You said Truce."

"I'm hearing you out, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but you're still being mean."

"Boo-hoo." He look up at you and his narrowed eyes make you retract your statement. "I mean, sorry. Carry on."

"That's it."

"What's 'it'?"

"The thing I wanted to tell you."

"What thing?"

"You know...the thing."

"You spewed a lot of crap in that short frame of time, I truly have no idea what you're talking about."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed once more, this time in suspicion. "You know exactly what I mean."

"No I don't." It's pitiful to say that your face is losing the battle to keep your smile away, which ultimately makes him gasp and point accusingly towards you.

"Yes, you do, you egg."

"Going for the Shakespearean insults? Wow, I must've really ticked you off," you laugh.

Lucky for you, the nearest thing to him was an almost-finished kitchen roll, otherwise he would've landed you in A&E too from his well-aimed throw to your forearm.

"I'm trying to be sincere." His voice is at that whiney pitch he uses when he's frustrated but not enough to care about it. He tends to only use it around his friends, but the more hellish (a potential exaggeration) time you spend with each other, the easier it slips out of him.

"Stop saying 'nice' like someone's pulling it out of your arse and not in a fun way."

"Well, what else am I supposed to say?! That I think your wonderful and funny and interesting and I like it when we spend time together!"

You try not to let the admission show up in your expression, not when it's making your heart race a mile a minute. "I mean, yeah. Don't stop on my account, keep telling me how you think I'm the most amazing person on the planet and you worship the ground I walk on, please."

He rolls his eyes and smiles in that adorable shy why which tells you that he knows exactly what you're trying to do and appreciates the way you relieve the tension. "Jesus, even when you take the piss out of me you still say 'please' in a way that makes me want to..." he trails off, then sighs. "Nevermind, ignore me."

Oh no, you're not going to let it go that easily. "Hard to do when your pig-headed ego takes up half the room." You take your gloves off--making a mental note to burn them in the incinerator for all they've had to deal with today (it's a mercy, really)--and turn towards him to give your full undivided attention. As if that would make it any easier for him to speak. "Go on, please."

He rolls his eyes again, trying even harder to hide his smile but it's fails just as easily. "Stop it."

"Stop what? Could you tell me, please?" Your head cocks to the side and your eyes challenge him in a teasing sort of way.

"God fucking damnit, Y/N. I don't know how I'm going to survive uni with you," he laughs, but the way he looks back at you feels a little too fond.

It takes a second to process what he just said. "Um, what?"

"What?"

"You said... wait, are we going to the same uni?!"

"Um, yeah? We got into the same uni."

Shock takes ever your expression for a moment. "You remember which uni I applied to?"

He looks at you incredulously. "Yeah, of course I remember. And don't be so damn humble about your exam results, I know for a fact we're both getting in."

You take a second to find a response in your head, which seems momentarily empty except for that one phrase 'of course I remember.' "Well, that's beside the point." Jungkook raises a brow at you, not buying it but willing to shelf the matter for now. "What did you mean by all that earlier?"

He looks down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I have no idea what you mean."

"No no, you can't get out of it that easily."

"I think I can."

You take a few steps to his side and try to perch yourself up on the side of the counter next to him. He doesn't say anything as he helps you up with his good hand wrapped around your waist--and neither do you in case the combustion of heat in your body will expel flames out of your mouth the second you open it, right for your rival to see. "You're infuriating, you know that right?"

"Really? Haven't heard you say it before."

"Shut up," you chuckle, lightly shoving his shoulder with your own.

"Never. I know how much you love my snark, even if you don't admit it," he grins in return, looking at you in a way that makes your insides turn and twist. God you didn't think you could hate his stupid face even more than you do now (or something like that).

Then there comes a moment where everything went still. You think it's slightly unfair that this boy is able to bend people to his will with his looks and charm, and now apparently he can bend time too. Okay, maybe in this instance it doesn't feel as bad because you strangely don't mind having time suspended when he's there with you.

Those brown eyes flicker down to your lips so quickly you wouldn't have caught it had you not been intently gazing at him too. Rushes of heat fill every inch of your body, and to be honest, you don't know how to respond to it.

Times like these are few between you two, mostly because most of your interactions happen where there's a number of people around. But when it's just the two of you...

It feels slightly dangerous, but in a warm, comforting way that's so addictive you get a little scared of how much you don't want it to end. And also how his lips don't look as repulsive to press your own again as much as they usually do.

Damn him and his witchery.

"Anything else you want me to do?"

He raises a brow. "I want you to do a lot of things, you're gonna have to be more specific."

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "I mean, any cleaning up you needed me to do for your unhygienic brother?"

"Ah... no. The dishes were the main thing."

"Okay..." Silence stretches around the two of you until you find enough boldness within you to break it. "What were the other things?"

"What other things?"

"That you wanted me to do."

"Uh, I think you might fracture my balls too if I said them."

"Coward."

The corner of his lips curve. "There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity."

"Wow, I didn't think you knew it existed since you tend to cross it a lot."

"Har har," he deadpans, making you smile.

Your hands run over your thighs, a nervous tick you have that you have no doubt he's clocked onto by the way his good hand reaches out to squeeze one of them gently. Your hand, that is, though a corner of your traitorous mind that's steadily becoming louder over the past couple of weeks the longer you spend time with him thinks that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it was your thigh instead. It's certainly big enough and you've seen the way he handles modelling clay for his art homework. There's no doubt he'd be able to relieve the tension of the muscles there. Or anywhere else--ah, no. Nope. Absolutely not.

"Sometimes I kinda kick myself for doing this deal with you." At your quizzical look, he clears his throat. "Makes it harder to ignore you when you're right with me for a good chunk of the day."

"You couldn't ignore me even if you tried."

He snorts. "Tired and proven."

Your brows scrunch, though your heart still beats against your chest. "What, really? You've tried to ignore me? Damn. Here I was hoping it would've worked out."

"Oh, I tried a few years ago, I think? Closer to when we first met. But unfortunately, you're hard to ignore."

Mockingly, you straighten you back and lift your head up. "Given how perfect I am, smarts and looks and all."

His smile is a bit weaker this time. "Yeah... Practically impossible to keep my mind off you."

Silence flows once more for a moment or two and you realise his hands is still wrapped around yours. "You know I tried too...in the beginning. Unfortunately, that didn't last long either."

His brow quicks. "Given how perfect I am, smarts and looks and all?"

"The opposite, actually. You were too dumb and ugly not to. Out of pity, really." From your teasing expression, he knows that he was right.

"Riiiiight, 'pity'. We'll go for that blatant lie if you want to save face."

"I have no idea what you mean."

"I think you do."

"I think I don't."

You don't realise until now how close your faces have gotten, able to feel the soft gentle breaths against your lips from his. It feels so difficult to maintain the distance but even more so to move closer to further.

"When you asked me what I meant by all that... ask me again."

"What?"

"Ask me what I meant by everything I said before."

You've been sensing this coming for a while now, longer than whatever time you've spent together in his brother's now-clean kitchen (thanks to you). Like the sky is falling, but you can't seem to look away from it.

"What did you mean?"

Jungkook's tongue peeks out to run along his bottom lip. "I meant that I... I think you're amazing, potentially out of my league--"

"--definitely out of your league--" Definitely what you would consider a lie because look at him and his social skills and his grades and passion and whatnot.

"--and so damn sweet and kind."

"Did you not just hear me call myself out of your league? Or pay attention to most of our conversations in general."

He sends a questioning look to you, as if he can see through your bullshit. "I think we both know you don't think that--for some stupid reason, because you actually are out of my league."

"Don't be humble, it doesn't suit you."

"I'm not. Just truthful. And the truth is, I find it hard to be around you and not fall for you. I see the person you are when you let your guard down with people you care about and how annoyingly well you follow that moral compass of yours even if you use fancy mean words to distract everyone else."

You snort. "If only you heard my thoughts about you while I was doing the dishes. Maiming was not off the list."

He tried to bite back a laugh. "Given the condition of those dishes, I would give you a free pass for homicide."

"Good thing your teen boy-genes haven't totally overtaken your common sense of hygiene."

"I think we can both agree we're growing out of the 'teen' bit of our lives."

"Nope," you deny quickly, waving your hand out as if to undo what he just said. "I'd like to stick my head in the sand and forget about how quickly life is moving into adulthood until it hits me like a train--"

"--or a clown--"

"--thank you very much," you end tightly, sending him a light-hearted glare.

"As I was saying," he continues, amusement lighting up his face, "it's hard not to want to kiss you at times."

"Even when I'm mouthing off to you?"

"Especially when you're mouthing off."

Even though you were expecting it, it takes a minute to process. "Oh."

"Yes, 'ohhhhh'," he mocks, nudging you with a teasing smirk.

"That must've been annoying in class then."

"Very," he nods solemnly. "There were times I wanted to throw caution to the wind and traumatise everyone."

"From the shit some of my friends say, I don't think people would be that shocked if you'd kiss me."

"Huh, maybe you're not as airheaded as you make yourself out to be."

"Rude," you mumble. "I pay attention. I just tend to...second guess."

"I think my feelings for you were a bit obvious. I mean, I think I could've survived without having you be at my beck and call this summer but I said yes anyway."

"Manipulative bastard."

"Anything for you," he sends a cheesy grin your way, making you laugh at the sudden and very inconvenient butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.

"'Anything'?"

"Okay, from that tone, I can tell you're imagining something horrifying so let me change that to 'anything within reason'."

"Coward."

"You are slightly terrifying."

"Why, thank you," you smile, and he smiles too with that buttery warm look of fondness again before he leans in slowly, giving you enough time to move away. But when you don't, he pressed his lips against yours and fucking hell it's the softest thing you've ever felt.

You don't know how long it takes for the kiss to break but even breathless you still miss the warm softness against your mouth. And apparently he felt the same because it takes very little time for him to capture your lips again, untangling his hand from yours to cup the side of your jaw, keeping you in place--not like it was possible for you to leave his addictive taste anyway, it might take dark magic for that to happen.

Maybe something even more potent, when his tongue slips its way past your lips and you find that he's stolen every single thought that occupied your mind. Again, time slips away until you're lungs are burning from the lack of air and you both pull away--though not too far from one another.

"So," he says breathless.

"So," you repeat in the same manner, mind still a little fuzzy.

"That was... something."

"Good something or bad something?"

"I don't think 'good' is a strong enough word I want to use." You hum in agreement, and reluctantly pull a little further away, his hand dropping back down onto yours. He looks at you curiously. "So..."

"So..."

"Would I be too soon if I asked you to take pity on a poor simp like me and be mine?"

"Hmmm," you hum in thought. "Given your performance, I'm inclined to accept."

"I can upgrade you from being my reluctant servant to my reluctant lover." He wiggles his borrows and you groan.

"With a romantic declaration like that, I find it hard not to accept," you deadpan, before sighing and leaning against his shoulder. You want to bottle up that sound up and listen to it until you get sick of it--which you have a sneaking suspicion is about as likely as the sun imploding in your lifetime.

"Would you let me continue to wreak havoc on your life?"

"Naturally."

"Then yes. I accept." He raises a brow expectantly and you clock on to what he's waiting for. "I'm not saying it."

"Say it."

"No."

"Please?"

"I take back my answer."

"No backsies."

"What, are you five years old or something?"

"Just say it! Say you'll be my lover."

"If you manage to make this relationship last for 50 years, then I will."

He huffs, leaning his head on top of yours, fingers linking with yours. "I suppose I can agree with that. I'll keep a note of it in my calendar."

"How unusually organised of you."

"Like I said, I'd do anything for you."

"Within reason, of course."

"Of course. Doesn't need to be logical reason, just reason."

"Good to know. Now, let's get out of your brother's place. I feel all the germs crawling all over me and need an extra hot shower--maybe two--to feel even remotely clean after that ordeal."

He laughs as he pressed a kiss on top of your head. "Yeah, okay, we can do that. Though I hoped you reminded me before I kissed you."

"You just did again after I told you, dumbass."

"In my defence, I did tell you it was hard not to. If I die of some unknown disease, I blame on you." You roll your eyes with a smile as the two of you hop off the counter and make your way out, hands still clasped together.

#if you're not threatening bodily harm. is it really rivalry banter?#jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook bts #fluff #academic rivals to lovers #rival!jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #junkook #jungkook oneshot #jeon jungkook oneshot

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couchpotatoaniki · 2 years ago

Text

One Year ❣︎ Eleven: Friends Are There Through Thick And Thin

Chapter summary: You hear San out, which leads to an unexpectedly difficult talk for the both of you. Things are shifting, and neither of you don’t know what to do.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Series Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse, mentions of ptsd, anxiety, hints to sleep paralysis, Word count: 5.1k+ A 365 Days parody

A/N: I’m back from my hiatus and my god I missed this so much 😭😭 this chapter’s a bit angsty but the next one will make up for it, I promise.

Previous: Chapter Ten

For the rest of the series, click here

Speech and bracketed speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech and bracketed speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

“The first time I met the Jeong family was shortly after Ma died,” San began, in a low relaxed tone as if he was talking about what he had for lunch yesterday. “I was quite young, but my father was grief-stricken and I stepped up to support him. He didn’t want me to but he wasn’t as strong as he used to be in arguments with me after her passing, so he just let me learn the trades of our business.”

He chuckled darkly, rubbing the tip of his thumb along the soft plush of his lower lip. “Should’ve listened to him,” he admitted with a hint of regret in his voice and a darkness in his eye you recognised from your own reflection. “Should’ve stayed a kid a little bit longer like Ma wanted me to and not want to be the hero that could fix everything like she seemed to do.”

His deep gaze bore into you for a few beats until he spoke once more. “The first time I met the Jeong family, the patriarch was beating the ever living shit out of his own son.”

You tried your best not to freeze, and although you knew of the treatment Yunho had endured there, it certainly felt a whole lot different hearing it from someone else. Hearing it from San.

He noticed your shift and gently grasped your hand over the table, running his thumb soothingly against your knuckles to try and ease the horror he could feel building inside you.

“My dad,” he resumed in that detached tone again, “had grown up with a horrible mother and an even worse father. When he met Ma, he was still a bit of a...’fixer upper’. But he changed. Said he wanted to give himself a reason for her to be proud of loving him, a reason she would want to call him her husband when the time came for him to propose--and most importantly, he was just so tired of hating his own soul. Wanted to love it as much as she did.”

A soft, intimate smile played against his lips for a brief moment. “Once, she told me that loving him came as easy as breathing.” His eyes flickered to yours, so much weight behind them, and his hand that held yours seared with a heat you couldn’t find yourself to pull away from.

“By the time they had me, they were very clear on what morals I was to have. And neither of them stopped drilling it into me until their dying breath.” San chuckled humourlessly. “Sometimes I still hear their ghosts whisper it into my ears, in the gentle way they spoke.”

His eyes closed as he recounted one of the last things he ever heard his father say all the way back in Santorini five years ago. “(We too have morals. There are some lines we must never cross.) One of them was that family and friends were sacred. You can’t hurt them. Can’t fix them through pain.”

You do your best not to think of Isaac but his face flashes for the briefest of moments in your mind and you hate yourself all the more for it.

His eyes shut more tightly as if trying to stop seeing the memory once more, a shuddering breath released from his lungs. “I’ve seen and done some horrible shit, Y/N, but what I saw that day? Fucking hell. No child should ever have to suffer that much, never mind at the hands of one of the few people in this cruel world that was supposed to protect him.”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as memories resurfaced for you too--of Yunho and his breakdowns, of the scars that littered every inch of his torso, of the slight limp in his left leg and occasional shoulder pain from broken bones that never managed to set quite right. Memories of that sweet, sweet boy made of sunshine and smiles consumed in nightmarish slumber, still trying to fight off the ghosts of his past that felt all too real to him. Frozen. Unable to move. Unable to protect himself.

San may have seen part of the actual abuse Yunho had to endure, but Y/N had to witness for the past five years how he tried so damn hard to not slip back down, even if it sometimes oozed out of the cracks in the walls he built. And Seonghwa? Jesus, Seonghwa was the one who who truly saw it all--how it almost broke Yunho, how he almost broke himself to try to get away from his own mind.

Guilt resurfaced as a heavy knot in your throat, imagining Yunho starting to slip back again. There were triggers but he’d worked well to cope in a healthy way, they all supported him in managing his responses, in helping him re-associate some of those triggers with better, nicer things. But being this close again? God, you should really go back home, end all of this.

But you need to do this. Yunho needs you to do this much at least.

“Y/N,” San coaxes you away from your thoughts, and if he noticed that you disappeared for a few moment, he did not mention it. “I care for you. More than any person on this earth. Would travel through the nine circles of hell and back to protect you. You know that right?”

Strangely, you did. From the reverent way he looks at you, holds your hand, speaks to you. Faking something like that must have needed intervention from some higher being. Without another thought, you nod.

“Good. So you know that I want to keep you far away from things that may harm you. I’m already a dangerous person with many enemies but the Jeong family have a darkness I couldn’t bare to have you near.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, San,” you whisper, voice feeling fragile in such a raw moment. “Got plenty of darkness in me already.”

He looks at you with this sad sort of smile. “I know. Wanna kiss you for being so strong and scorch the world for not stopping itself from hurting you.” He brings the hand still in his own up to his lips, letting it brush along the slightly rough skin in the barest of kisses as if content with feeling the warmth of your soul through your very fingertips. “I’ve been around enough sorrow to know when there is still goodness in something and you have so much goodness in you despite what you’ve been through.”

He pauses.

“Maybe one day you’ll find enough comfort with me to confide in it all. But until then, let me shield you from the unnecessary pain.”

You don’t remember how much time passes as the words seep into your very heart and bones and soul. While the very concept of being cared for and shouldering the burden you carry has always been an unspoken rule between your family and even more so the boys, you’ve never had someone say that to you and it feels almost overwhelming to hear it. As if your brain is having a hard time processing the fact that here is someone on this godforsaken earth who cares for you as deeply as San does and would want to stay by you side in spite of all of that.

In spite of the damage to your soul and pieces missing from your heart.

Even while you were with Dominic, there was a side of you that you felt was unworthy of being seen--shameful even--though it wasn’t you fault. You still had to keep guards up sometimes even with Mingi, and in this very room where the outside world with every messy thing that came with it was just noise far down below, you started to feel the toll it took on you. The energy is sucked out of you, the weight of keeping it up all the time.

Suddenly, confiding in Choi San didn’t seem like a bad idea at all.

But then you remembered that some of the bricks that made up that wall you held up against him weren’t yours to share with him.

“There’s...” Tongue flickering out to lick your lips, you’re unsure of how to phrase this in a way that won’t divulge in too much information, “I just...” You take a deep breath to calm your nerves. God, why was your heart racing that fast?

San could tell the conundrum you were going through. Went through the same after all, with how much he could divulge you with for he too had walls built up and for good reason.

He took the initiative. “You asked about Jeong Yunho specifically... why?”

“I wanted to know what you knew about him.” But neither of you mentioned how from the crumbs San gave you, both of you knew that Yunho was the boy he was talking about. Stiffening the air like dust in an abandoned house.

“Why?” he repeated.

Your mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. Damn it, you were good at this. Good at coming up with shit on the spot--why isn’t your brain working right now? Why do you want to tell him the truth? That truce between you two is starting to shrivel up, walls pushing back up again--

“Remember, Y/N, I can’t give you an answer if you don’t give me a good enough reason in return.” San’s last plea to get you to open up so he could do the same.

You pull your hands from his grasp to run through your hair, and the walls start to go up even higher the both of you can feel it.

Blowing a frustrated breath out you get up from your seat, turn your back to him as you make your way to your nightstand.

The man lets his face crumble as his heart drops in his stomach all the while he watches you walk away from him both physically and mentally. He leans back into the chair, feeling--for the first time in a long time--defeated.

He sees you grab the glass of water on your nightstand and finish the whole thing in a few big gulps. He wants to tell you to be careful, that you’ll choke, but his voice is caught in his tight throat unable to come out.

Setting the glass back down, you take a moment before you turn back to him. There’s something in your eyes that tells him, maybe your wall isn’t fully up yet. There’s some cracks. And then you ask him, in a soft voice, “stay with me the night?” You try to regain some playfulness by narrowing your eyes in a mock glare. “No funny business.”

He musters up as much of a smile as he can at the moment--it’s weak and tired, but there’s the remnants of that brief truce there. He doesn’t speak and neither do you as he walks to the opposite side of the bed and crawls in with you.

You both lie on your backs, you looking up at the ceiling while he looks at you. Making no move to touch you, not even move closer to you.

You close your eyes, letting him gaze at you with those curiously sad eyes of his. So attuned to his breathing, you can tell even when a lot of time--or a little, you can’t tell as the concept doesn’t seem to exist in this room right now, but it feels like a lot--he still hasn’t fallen asleep yet. His thoughts are loud but not loud enough for you to hear them.

He feels the same way about you. Knows that you’re awake, mind running with thoughts that escape him and damn it fucking hurts to be this shut out from you.

You want to speak the words--any words to him or at least intertwine one of your fingers with his. To show some semblance that things have changed, that you have not shut him out completely like he might think.

But at one point, you lose the mental battle and fall into a dreamless sleep.

When you wake, San is nowhere to be found. You’re curled up facing where he would be and feel around to notice that the spot is cold and that side of the bed is made. He’s been gone for a while, you confirm once you notice the time on your phone, because it is almost one in the afternoon and he must have had business to attend to.

That didn’t stop the faint pang inside you at his sudden absence after last night.

Groaning, you roll you body up, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes while you think how could things change so much for you in such a short space of time since you met San.

His crazy seems to be rubbing off on you, since you feel some kind of attachment to him? Or at least, you feel a little more empty when he is not there. Jesus, at this rate, you might actually want to stay with him by the end of the year.

You find that thought terrifying, though not as all-consuming as you expected it to feel. Like the kind of terror that came with standing at the edge of a cliff that you can just as easily back away from into the safety of land rather than stare at the rough dark waters crashing on jagged rocks below.

You have been through enough shit to know when you really need to talk to someone about how you’re feeling. And right now you need to talk to someone.

Run through the talking points in your head as you freshen up in the bathroom, already knowing that today feels like a pyjama day. You feel sick just thinking about the idea of talking about your feelings, that familiar sense of dread curdling in your stomach. So you don’t leave the confines of your bedroom for a late breakfast--you can barely think of stomaching the smell of breakfast.

Cold sweats lace your palms as you click on Mingi’s contact on your phone, practice some level breathing as ringing presses against your ear. It doesn’t take long for you to hear his voice.

“Hey, wassup?”

“Hey,” you try to say confidently but it comes out as a strangled whisper from the funny feeling in your throat.

A pause, and then, “What happened?”

The instinctive answer comes out despite all the mental preparation. “Nothing.”

“Y/N, what happened?”

“Nothing...”

He sighs, “The last time you answered the phone like this and I played along, you were in a horrible situation. I’m not making that mistake again. Now tell me, what happened?”

You don’t know why but hot fat tears spill from your eyes in quick succession against your will. Silent as they come, you know he can tell. He was always able to. “Mingi, I don’t know what to do,” you whisper as it all comes crashing down on you.

“It’s been weeks since everything’s happened and I don’t know why but it’s all come crashing down and I just don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, that okay,” he coaches, “Just grab onto the closest threat. Start from there. Bit by bit.”

“I just,” you try to take deep breaths and make a clumsy attempt to explain the pent up emotions, “it’s so stupid but it only really just hit me how much Dominic hurt, you know? I didn’t love him but I did like him and just... being treated like that, like I’m nothing of worth fucking hurt. It was the first time I was with someone since...him and it ended up hurting me again and I swore I would never let my heart get hurt again and...and--”

You pause. Breathe.

“And then there’s what I’m putting Yunho through simply by being here with San, all because I wanted to escape my problems and feelings again. I can barely even do my job right because I can’t get a straight answer out of him--or any of the others because they’re tight-knit and won’t betray San like that even if it is to shit-talk his ex.”

Not even Wooyoung, who you seemed to have the most rapport with out of the three boys. You tried getting information out of them over the few days San was avoiding you (and admittedly you, him) from the initial bathroom confrontation, but each of them were tight-lipped and you knew without them having to say that San told them to remain that way about the subject.

More waves of fatigue wash over you, and you lift your legs up and rest your forehead on your knees. “And the worst part is, is that San cares about me in a way no one has. At least, not in the same sense you guys do. And it feels different but my brain is telling me it’s the same honey trap all over again. I’m holding myself back from opening up to him, which is the smart move all things considering, but some part of me wants to open up to him and that scares me so damn much.”

Mingi doesn’t interrupt even as you pause again, knowing you well enough to be able to tell when you’ve finished talking and when you’re taking a moment to find the truest words to string together even if it sometimes doesn’t make sense when it is translated from your mind.

“Last night, he came to me and told me that if I wanted answers out of him, I would have to hear why he didn’t want to tell me then tell him why he should tell me.” You sigh. “Mingi, he knows about what they did to Yunho--or at least snippets of what his dad did to him. I’m sure he knows that I know that too because I made the stupid fucking decision to ask about Yunho specifically. He said he didn’t want me near people like that...”

Isaac’s presence filled the silence but neither of you mentioned it.

“He asked me to tell him why I needed to know...and I just...couldn’t. It wasn’t my place and we both kind of shut down on each other and for some fucking reason, it hurt a bit. I just...” You let out another heavy breath. “I don’t know. It feels so messy.”

A beat or two passes before he exhales. “Okay. Yeah, that is pretty fuckin’ heavy.” You smile, breathing out a little amused laugh. “But that’s okay, Y/N. None of this shit ever comes easily.

“First and foremost, before we touch any of that other shit you just said, you need to get it through to your head that you are in absolutely no way, shape, or form, the reason why all this is being dredged up again. You of all people know how the past has a nasty way of catching up to us, and Yunho was going to have to face it sooner or later. Yes, the fact that you’re with San means that it did come sooner, but that doesn’t make it bad whatsoever.

“Yunho has his own demons and we can’t protect him forever, no matter how much we want to. If anything, this couldn’t have come at a better time. Our future isn’t exactly secure in the field we work in so at least it’s coming now when we are all here to support him through his problems and help him grow. But remember, we’re not powerless kids anymore. Yunho knows that too, he’s just trying to get his brain up to speed with it in his own way.”

You want to protest that you can do more, but the words die on your tongue as you tell our brain that Mingi is right. Yunho has to work through his own demons, and you being there to baby him through the process would be more counter-productive than anything.

Mingi clears his throat. “You’re stubborn and a major empath, so I dunno if any of that stuck.”

You smile faintly. “I’m trying to make it.”

“Good. Now, onto the whole spaghetti of emotions you’re having about San and relationships.” He sighs, “you weren’t wrong when you said it was messy. But don’t think for a second that it’s not supposed to be. Your hearts been stomped on to high heaven so I don’t blame you one bit for not wanting to give San a chance.” You open your mouth to protest but he already hears the fight coming and cuts it out of the roots, “I know we joked about you falling for San at the beginning and you have this whole aversion to the concept of ‘love’ so for arguments sake, we’ll just say you like him and chalk this situation as Fate being the bitch that it is.”

He hesitates for a moment. “I was actually planning on telling you this later, when you had finally come to terms with your own feelings about the whole Dominic thing but it seems like you did that already--which, by the way, I am very proud of you. Even if it did come out as a part of an emotional explosion since you have a horrible habit of bottling everything in until you’re bursting at the seems.”

“Thanks,” your tone is deadpan with an underlying tone of amusement to it.

“No problem. Anyway, Seonghwa made Yeosang and I do some more research into San--he was doing all this fancy computer wizard shit again and I did some incognito spy shit--and he really doesn’t seem that bad of a person. I mean, yeah, he’s got as much blood on his hands as the next mobster but he just seems to be a nice person? Again, relative to him being part of the mafia world. So if you wanted to open up to him... I mean, I don’t see why not.”

“He could have that side to him, the one he doesn’t show to everyone. He could hurt me.”

“Y/N, don’t take this the wrong way... but that will always be a possibility with anyone you meet--be it a potential friend or partner or whatever. You learn from the pain and mistakes, and recognise the signs more easily if you see them again so you don’t get hurt as badly as the last time. You left Dominic when he cheated on you, recognising that as one of the signs that he didn’t care for you as you wanted him to. You learned from the last time. And what did you learn from Dominic that you’ll keep an eye out for?”

You don’t realise that the tears had stopped until they started again at his gentle tone and careful words. This time, slower. “I wasn’t as important to him as his ego and reputation was. He was very different to how he was in public and how he was in private,” you sniffled, recalling all the times he would try to seem Big and Masculine in from of his friends often at your expense.

It happened on your way to Jeju, when you were struggling with the luggage and he was chatting to his friends about how he was going on a casual holiday, forgetting that it was supposed to be a birthday trip for you and Mingi. Even at the birthday dinner, he tried to make a speech that fed his ego as the Good Boyfriend at the expense of one of the most important people in your life.

“The point is, you can’t be so afraid of being hurt again that you shut everyone out. That’s a painfully slow death you’ll be experiencing. You live, you hurt, you learn, you move on. What did Auntie L/N always say when we were being angsty kids?”

You mouth quirked at the memory of your mother. “Let the negative emotions come, let them teach you, but never let them overstay.” God, you missed her.

“Yeah. You’ve got that wise woman gene from her. Maybe rather than only using it for others, use it for yourself too.”

Sniffles filled in the silence as you let that sink in, silently promising yourself that you would try to do that. That you would try to be kinder to yourself.

“As for the Yunho shit in relation to San...trust your gut. You know what to say and what not to.”

“Okay,” you mumble, feeling another tsunami of fatigue wash over you again now that this is all off your chest. “You said you did some spy shit? Are you Seoul right now?”

“Damn, I was planning on surprising you. Just a few towns over, actually, but still in Choi territory.”

“What if I speak to San? About letting you come here to visit me? I don’t think he’d say no.”

He thinks for a second. “Hm, well I’m gonna see you anyway so you might as well see if you can get a less fun way too I suppose.”

This time your chuckle comes out stronger and once Mingi feels like you’re in a decent mental state, he lets you end the call.

Any second-in-command worth their salt would be attuned to their leader and able to take over the heavy lifting when it was beginning to get too much for them. And Hongjoong was priceless so it didn’t take much for him to sense San’s off mood. He was not as sharp today, was not as focused as he usually was and that was strange in and of itself.

San was always great at compartmentalising and separating his work and personal affairs so they did not bleed into one another--which was a fucking feat considering most of the men in these circles lived and breathed their work life (not a very healthy thing to do) and also the fact that San used to date Jeong Dae who came from a very powerful family in their own right.

There was only one being who could frazzle this impenetrable man.

Wooyoung and Jongho had spent the most time with you and so had begun to take a liking to you--then again, the what they considered to be a nice partner was a line down all the way in the ninth circle of hell after their experience with Dae.

More than anything, he was frustrated because you do seem like a nice person--stuffed full of secrets that you hold tightly to your chest more so than the average person--but he cared more for San’s heath and right now, he looked fucking terrible.

He knew that if the other man got a whiff of how Hongjoong was trying to take care of him, he would get annoyed from being treated like a child. Would try that much harder to take on more of the work. Years of having to deal with him taught him the fine art of how to manipulate the stubborn ass into looking after his own wellbeing but being willing to share some of the workload.

But even masters of craft come along a new situation they are unsure of how to handle once in a while.

“San?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles absentmindedly, staring at sheets of paper the blue-haired man knows for a fact is reading two-three times over just to get the words to make sense to him through the foggy lethargic haze clouding his brain. Could see it in his eyes.

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

He takes in a deep breathe. “Uh... not much. Couldn’t sleep.”

“How come?”

“Just...couldn’t.”

He hums in response, not taking his eyes of the sheets in from of him. “I think we both know that’s a lie.”

San slaps his own documents onto his desk, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Then what do you want me to say? Do you want me to open up and talk about my feelings?”

Hongjoong presses his lips in to a thin line. “That’d be a start...” When he feels San’s growing agitation, he finally looks up at him. “You don’t have to go into detail about anything if you don’t wanna, but dude, you can’t just pretend whatever is on your mind isn’t, ya know?”

His words don’t seem to persuade him to talk, at least he thinks they don’t when the other man picks up the closest sheet of paper next to him...and then throws it back down and sits in a huff back in his chair. “She just... she just won’t open up to me. Like, I’m trying so hard here and there’s that barrier between us. Last night,” his tone softens a little as the memory washed over him, “it seemed like things were shifting. Like she was starting to let me in.”

He take a few seconds to calm the growing irritation he felt. “I extended an olive branch and when it was her turn, she just...shut me out again. I mean, I suppose she tried to offer an alternative by letting me stay with her--” he ignored the other’s raised brows “--but it wasn’t the same.”

Even with the holes and lack of your side of the story, Hongjoong had an idea of the whole situation. “Right, I can’t believe what I’m about to say but...are you sure she’s not totally at fault for that?” He notices the look he sends him. “Okay, hear me out. Imagine you’re in her shoes and some rando just up and kidnapped you. No matter how nicely you treat her, she isn’t going to bare the deepest parts of her soul to you after a few weeks. She’s not trusting, like she’s a... like a...”

He tried to find the right analogy, right at the tip of his tongue, but San beat him to it with a quiet answer. “Like a wounded animal.”

“Uh... Yeah. I think. She’s got that vibe about her, that she’s been hurt before and so keeps herself closed off. And maybe you need to think about yourself too. With what we do, you’re going to have to keep secrets from her--you are keeping secrets from her by being cryptic and not willing to answer her questions. I mean, you’re not entirely wrong for not wanting to tell her about the Jeongs, but do you really think she would want to give up any of those pieces of herself she holds so close to her chest to someone who won’t fully do the same for her?”

Hongjoong has a strong sense you’re a lot more intelligent than what you make yourself seem, but he doesn’t say that. “I don’t know what to do or how to fix your situation--only you and Y/N can do that--but you should at least see her side of things too. And maybe just take it a bit easy when you’re this annoyed because you’re not getting much done and that’s pissing you off even more.”

“...Geez, dude. Okay.” San rubs his hands over his face and sighs. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll, uh... are you good with handling this?”

“It’s literally my job.”

“Alright,” he huffs in amusement, then stands up to gather his coat and phone, ready to call his driver to take him back to the apartment. “Oh, and--”

Hongjoong cuts him off without looking back at him. “Yeah, everything’s ready at home. I’ll let the house staff know that we’re coming back this weekend and to make sure it’s all perfect.”

San smiles at him in gratitude. “What would I do without you?”

“Not a damn thing, that’s for sure.”

Yeah, Hongjoong doesn’t need to be told if he’s a good Second. He damn well knows it from the grateful look in his best friend’s eye. That’s enough for him

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