#silly season indeed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girlatmirror · 2 months ago

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the viscount who loved me | jjk

It was your sister’s season, and she was the diamond, while your season was still a year away. Though suitors could seek your hand already, it doesn’t excuse you for secretly pining after the viscount who courted her.

viscount!jungkook x reader

warnings: (kinda??) morally gray yn and jk, sexism (c’mon it’s the 18th century what did u expect), sex (bye minors), it’s not sex centered tho, longing and yearning (bring real romance back), cheating (is it tho, idk u be the judge), u might get mad at the main characters, enemies to lovers, heavily inspired (or stolen) by my loves anthony and kate 😍😍, yn is the younger sister and has yet to enter her season, but she is in her twenties!! (not specified in the text, but i was thinking jk is like 27, yn’s sis is 24 and yn is like 22, just to clarify) is idk what else. ENJOY!

The fresh, sunny air of London on that day called you to leave the mansion and ride your horse, Cinnamon, into the forest, just as you did every morning that was suitable for a nice ride. It was not entirely proper to do so in that society, but they did not need to know about it. You always felt safe; you rode at a time of day when you were sure nobody would see you. You had a set time of 20 minutes; after that, you returned home, wearing a cloak with a hat that covered half your face. If someone were to catch you, you could merely lower the hat, and they would not know who you were. The last thing you wanted was to bring shame on your family, especially not in a society as cruel as that one.

You rode to your familiar place and felt the breeze of the wind in your hair; you felt free. It continued to be the beautiful, calm ride you were used to—until you heard the sounds of a man, seemingly talking to you.

"Miss?" the voice from afar called. "Miss, are you in trouble?" To your dismay, the voice came closer so quickly that you did not know where to go or what to do. If you were to ride deeper into the forest, you would get lost, and if you rode straight ahead, the man would see you either way. It seemed even this baggy cloak could not conceal your femininity as you had thought it would.

The man came nearer, and you turned your head so he would not recognize you.

"Miss, if there is a problem, I shall help you," his deep voice stated. "It is not suited for a young lady to be out here unchaperoned."

You did not say a word, your face still turned in the opposite direction. You did not think it through, and he turned his horse to face you, ducking his head to see you. You had never felt this silly in your life. You took off the hat hesitantly, revealing long curls and innocent, almost pleading eyes.

Before you sat the infamous Viscount Jeon on his horse, a most important figure of the ton. The gossip columns described him as a ‘rake through and through,’ yet he was as captivating as a summer’s night and as wealthy as the stars were numerous. Indeed, there was not a mother in the ton who did not dream of him marrying her daughter.

You were sure he recognized you as well; with your sister being the diamond of the season, there was not a single gentleman in London who did not know the family he wished to marry into.

"I know you," he revealed. "You are the daughter of Baron Ln. Miss, you should not be here alone. It is dangerous."

"I am not here alone, my lord; I am here with Cinnamon... and you are here, also," you stammered, hesitantly and nervously.

The viscount did not hide his amusement, chuckling while shaking his head. He found the entire sentence you had just said to be hilarious.

"You do not need to be scared; I shall not tell a soul about this encounter," he reassured you, still chuckling. "But I believe you should head home now, for your folks should get worried."

You listened to him, still flushed and slightly embarrassed, and headed home.

The Viscount Jeon certainly was gentler than what the columns wrote about him.

___

"Mother, I was unable to breathe in this corset. It was utterly ridiculous, and it elevated my bosoms up to the sky," you said, exaggerating, while your maid tied up the corset—who was, at that moment, your rival.

The last ball you attended had been the first of the season at the palace, where your beautiful sister, Nadia, had been chosen as the season’s diamond by the queen herself. You had been proud beyond measure; your sister was the eldest of your household and often played a secondary motherly role. She deserved to have the finest suitors begging for just a pinch of her attention.

"I did not have such a problem, sister, and my corset was just as tight, if not tighter, than yours," Nadia declared, looking down at her much flatter body.

"I cannot help but wonder why..." sarcasm left your mouth.

Since the queen’s announcement, your mother had not stopped rushing, running errands, investing in your jewelry collections, and buying dresses from the finest modistes in the city. Your mother had always been insatiable and prideful, yet you had never seen this side of her before.

"My dear Yn, your sister is the diamond of the season; she is destined to wed a most extraordinary gentleman, one who must possess both fortune and lands in locales of which we have never even heard, and court her heart with poetry. Such is the very least that the daughter of a most noble man is entitled to receive. She is the jewel of her season, which ensures that all eyes shall be upon her—and upon us. We shall create a most splendid impression at tonight's ball at Danbury House. We simply must," Lady Ln proclaimed, her pride evident as she gazed at herself and her two eldest daughters in the mirror. "Moreover, Yn, what is this lamentation regarding your bosoms? Such femininity is precisely what captivates a gentleman and stirs envy among the young ladies of the ton. You shall also find your match. Both of my daughters are undeniably the most beautiful women of the ton, nay, of the entire world!"

You and Nadia glanced at each other, trying not to laugh at your mother’s boasting. She had been excited to get her daughters married since they were born, always saying that marrying off a son was not as exciting and beautiful as marrying off a daughter. Your two older brothers had both gotten married in the last few years.

You did not like to admit it, but you had been dreaming of your prince charming since you were just a little girl, waiting to get married. Not because of the couples you knew, but because of the books you read that spoke of longing, making you feel as if you were living the character’s life.

"Lena, get the ladies ready; I shall attend to the little ones. They are out in the gardens, engaged in activities unknown to me," your mother commanded the maid, exiting the chamber with graceful haste to see what her mischievous twins were up to.

"Is it not amusing how mama calls Hana and Idris little ones despite their approaching age of sixteen?" Nadia shook her head, smiling. She admired herself in the mirror and told Lena to fix up her hair. "I must look perfect."

Nadia was a perfectionist through and through, the eldest daughter of a baron and his insatiable wife—a combination that could only produce a girl whose expectations for herself were high, too high for anyone to reach.

"You do look perfect. You are the diamond, Nadia; not a single soul in that ballroom shall utter an ill word about you—and if they do, it is out of pure envy," you said adoringly. "I must say, I cannot wait to meet my new brother; I bet he is a most handsome gentleman who shall ask you to dance, and in the morning, he shall call on you, saying how he cannot stop thinking about you and that you are as beautiful as a blooming flower."

Your teasing was accompanied by you dancing around playfully and blinking your eyes at a fast rate, which irritated your maid, who, of course, wouldn’t say a word to you beyond measure as she adjusted your dress. Nadia shoved your shoulder in a joking manner, smiling to herself.

"I shall find myself a love match, much like Baba and Mama—I desire a love like theirs; that is my only goal," her eyes communicated her feelings of yearn, while you nodded.

"You shall. You are your mother’s daughter, after all; you shall always get what it is you desire," you kissed her cheeks encouragingly, and she looked at you with thankfulness.

"Ladies! The carriages have arrived. Make haste!" Your mother’s demanding voice called from downstairs, resulting in you immediately strutting down the stairs.

___

The Jeon family had a reputation to uphold. They were known for their generosity, their welcoming spirits, their lavish homes, and their riches. The viscountess was nothing short of the perfect viscountess, continuing to be so, even after her husband’s tragic death a mere couple of years ago.

She intended to find herself a replacement that season, desperately wanting to marry off her eldest, the viscount. Her desperation did not come from a place of fear of undesirability; it was quite the opposite.

The viscountess feared her son might be looking for a wife for the wrong reasons. What she and her late husband shared was a love she wished for all of her children; yet her son seemed to see the world differently. He wanted a wife only to fulfill his duties and produce an heir.

"Jungkook, the search for happiness and love is not shameful. It is indeed the bravest thing a man can do—to listen to his heart and let it guide him," the viscountess tried to woo her son, who did not look up from his estate’s accounts ledgers. "You cannot hold interviews for eligible young ladies to find a suitable one; you shall know she is the one when you gaze upon her and converse with her for the very first time."

"When will you realize that what you and father had is the exception, not the rule? I am the viscount; I hold many responsibilities, and one of them is to wed a girl of good noble breeding to replace you as viscountess and produce an heir who shall lead this family when I am gone," Jungkook responded calmly. "I have indeed let my heart guide me; we are in agreement. I shall not continue with the interviews, as I have already found my future bride in Miss Nadia, the daughter of Baron Ln."

His mother was shocked at the revelation, looking at him with a glimpse of hope and wonder. "The diamond? Oh, how delightful! She must have great promise to have caught the eyes of the viscount."

She recalled the last ball when the queen announced Nadia as the diamond. Her son had not had a chance to talk to her that night, as the girl was occupied with many overbearing suitors and mothers.

"Yes, indeed, Mother. She is accomplished in literature, she plays many instruments, dances quite beautifully, and she comes from a most respectable family. She shall be my viscountess," he explained further. "We shall attend the ball at Danbury House tonight, united as one. Miss Nadia shall be there as well; we might find a suitable gentleman for Yoona if that is what she wishes." Jungkook was referring to his younger sister as he spoke.

"Wonderful," his mother’s eyes sparkled with joy.

___

The Jeon family arrived quite late, but in style. The viscount dressed in fitted trousers and a crisp white shirt that accentuated his strong arms and broad shoulders, his brothers dressed similarly, and his sisters in beautiful, rich silk gowns.

Jungkook was already on the lookout for a certain diamond who had caught the attention of the entire ton. He was not worried she would reject his advances; after all, he was the viscount, and there was not a single gentleman in London who could claim to be more eligible than him.

"Excuse me," he gracefully pushed through the people standing before the diamond, all waiting for a turn to speak with her. "I wish to dance with you, Miss Nadia."

As the voice of the viscount was heard, the stares of the ton overwhelmed Nadia, everybody in utter shock; the viscount, who mothers had been trying to get to look at their daughters for years, wished to dance with a girl in her first season out? How very surprising and envy-inducing.

Nadia nodded shyly, letting go of her very proud mother’s hand and accepting the viscount’s. She wondered where her sister was until she saw her at the drink stand fetching herself a lemonade.

"You are an excellent dancer, my lady," Jeongguk expressed, his hand in hers as they attracted all the eyes of the crowd.

"That is all your doing, my lord," she shyly answered, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. "You are quite a natural."

Their conversation continued for the next few minutes. They discussed very trivial matters, but Jeongguk made sure to let her know that she had caught his eye.

Eventually, Nadia moved on to another gentleman, and the viscount disappeared out of sight.

After a while of proudly watching your sister dance beautifully with potential suitors, you decided to step outside for a while to catch a breath of fresh air.

You were not particularly in the mood for dancing that night.

"Do not tell me the Viscount Jeon is looking for a love match this season; what happened to the viscount who visited his courtesan at least once a day and enjoyed a good brothel show?"

As you walked into the garden of the grand Danbury House, you heard a conversation that sparked your interest. A group of men, including the viscount who had just danced with your sister, and a few others you did not recognize, were talking. Letting your curiosity wander, you remained silent and listened to their talk unfold.

"I assure you, I am not out to find a love match; I am simply fulfilling my duties. Is it so impossible to find a suitable wife for a viscount, one who has hips meant for birthing, the ability to woo me with her intellect, and does not require love? It is simply a struggle," Jeongguk complained.

"Not a lady in London lives up to the standards of the viscount, I presume," the other man standing laughed. "I have seen you dance and converse with the diamond of this season; tell me, Viscount Jeon, does the diamond live up to your standards?"

"She is a respectable young woman who I plan on getting to know better, but I must not judge yet, for I fear I do not know what I might find out," the viscount answered the man’s question with honesty.

By then, you were sure your face was red with anger. How dare that man, that filthy rake, talk about your sister or any woman that way? And to think that Nadia was completely smitten with him already, you could not believe this audacious behavior.

They continued talking about useless things.

"We shall go back inside, my lord; are you coming with us?" one of them asked.

"No, you go. I shall join you later," he said, wanting to stay in the fresh air.

He started moving in your direction, and you quickly tried to get away, but your foot caught something, making a loud noise. "Who is there?"

You knew you were as good as caught, so you revealed yourself. "It is you. Were you eavesdropping?"

It seemed his audacity continued.

There was a spark in his eyes as he looked you up and down, as if he suddenly remembered the encounter you had in the woods or as if he really enjoyed what he saw.

"I was not! Also, one cannot eavesdrop in a public space…" you defended yourself. "The words you spoke were filthy and jarring, my lord; I cannot help but believe it is best if you do not let your interest in my sister unfold."

He visibly became uncomfortable, the evidence in his face demonstrating that he knew he had said things that did not particularly present him well.

"Those words were not meant for your ears, Miss Yn," he said, attempting to maintain his composure.

"I heard them regardless. If this is you with all your guards down, if these are your true feelings, you are not a suitable match for my sister," you emphasized defiantly.

The viscount lifted his eyebrows at you, letting his eyes linger on your body until he gazed into your face again. "You do realize there is not a lady in London who does not seek the kind of marriage I offer? That is, besides the privileges of becoming the viscountess."

"Oh, is that true? You assume the ladies of London are so easily charmed by a pleasing smile and nothing more?" you questioned him, causing him to grin.

"You find my smile pleasing?" he smirked down at you.

"I find your opinion of yourself entirely too high. And I stand by what I said; you do not suit my sister," you spoke, crossing your arms.

He skimmed your body, an amusing expression forming on his face. "Miss Yn, I remember the morning in the park very well. It seems to me that you do not care much for the rules of this society; that is why you spoke to your viscount in that manner."

"My apologies, my lord. I simply feel defensive over my sister," you apologized, feeling blood rush to your face.

"That is quite all right; I know what it is like to have siblings one cares for," his smile was warm, which surprised you.

After a few awkwardly intense looks between you two, you decided to bow respectfully and leave the scene.

You left Jeongguk standing for a while, the smile on his face visible even from a long distance; your jasmine scent lingered, and your words never left his mind.

___

Ever since the announcement, suitors from all over London had come to visit the Ln house to spend time with the diamond.

You quickly got used to seeing gentlemen in your house every morning, conversing with your older sister while you pretended to be occupied with something else, secretly listening to their conversations.

That day was no different. It was exciting, to say the least, not only because you were happy for your sister, who was receiving all these presents and love, but also because it broadened your understanding of courtships; your sister was paving the path for you in the future.

Oh, how excited you were for your future marriage.

As you walked downstairs after waking up from a long night of carefree sleep, you could already hear the distant sounds of a suitor.

You smiled to yourself, walking into the spacious living room, where you found your mother and father sitting on one couch with smiles that spoke volumes.

As you entered the room completely and saw who your sister was talking to, your face began to drop.

It was him. The viscount.

The man whom you could not escape from, for some reason.

While they finished their conversation, your mother noticed you standing there. "Good morning, Yn! Look who came to visit your sister first thing in the morning! Greet the Viscount Jeon."

You bowed respectfully and begrudgingly spoke, "Good morning, my lord."

He simply smirked, reciprocating the greeting.

It was as if he was provoking you with his handsome face and effortless demeanor.

"I shall head home now," he announced, standing up from his seat. "Breaking my fast here was very lovely indeed, Lord and Lady Ln; I must thank you dearly."

They exchanged pleasantries and enthusiastic goodbyes, of course, not without the viscount promising to come back tomorrow around the same time.

As he stepped outside, you followed him, pretending to go on a garden stroll.

"My lord!" you called after him, making him turn around to you.

"Yes, Miss Yn?" he spoke with a tinge of teasing, which seemed to always be present when he spoke with you.

His coachman was patiently waiting, watching you two standing face to face.

"Why have you called on my sister?" you asked; you were always known for your bluntness, which was something you tried to work on.

The viscount sent you a questioning but amusing look before replying, "Am I not allowed to?"

You shook your head, trying to put your thoughts into words.

"You are allowed," you answered hesitantly. "But what I said to you at Danbury House, I meant. I do not believe you are the right man for my sister."

There was a short exchange of glances between you; you hoping he understood your concerns and him wondering how you gathered the audacity to speak to a viscount that way.

It was not that he was angry about it; he was merely surprised. He had never had a person talk to him that way.

"Miss Yn," he started, his voice low. "I believe your sister can make her own decisions, can she not? And I must say, she did not seem to have a problem with my presence at all… quite the contrary."

You knew he was right, but there was something in your intuition telling you that this would not work out; you looked at him and did not see your sister’s future husband.

Yes, he was wealthy, and he was quite handsome, but still… he was not the man your sister was looking for.

"I believe I know my sister better than you do, my lord," you insisted, as stubborn as you always were.

He simply chuckled. "I do not doubt it," before hopping into the carriage and waving goodbye to you.

You could not comprehend how severely irksome he was.

___

In the following weeks, Jungkook tried his hardest to impress your sister; calling on her, giving her extravagant gifts, attending events and balls seemingly only for her.

It felt like he could propose to her at any moment, and you did not like it.

Your sister, on the other hand, seemed to be very happy with the viscount’s affection for her.

Who would not be?

One day, your mother hosted a gathering in the diamond’s name—an opportunity for suitors to see your sister and make themselves known to her.

The Jeon family was invited and set to attend, but the invitation for the viscount was lost in the mail.

Jungkook was very busy that day; meetings and managing accounts and staff took up a great deal of his time.

He did not have time to prepare himself for the crucial task ahead.

After asking his brother, Namjoon, for help with the poetry he intended to read out loud at the Ln house, he read over the piece of paper and could not control his scoffs; he thought poetry might be the most deceptive tool of all.

Such pretty, empty words.

He ordered a carriage, hastily moving to make it to the party that he was so conveniently not invited to, and hoped for the best.

The doorman immediately let him in, obviously knowing who the Viscount Jeon was—a familiar face to all of London indeed. Marching in as if he owned the place, he found a huge gathering of gentlemen performing their talents—or lack thereof—to impress Nadia.

You and Nadia were sitting next to each other on the sofa; you wore a judging yet amused face, and Nadia looked very grateful for the time they took for her.

He dreaded that his eyes lingered on you for far longer than they did on your sister; you were wearing an accentuating, expensive gown and a classic updo, your expressive eyes drew him in.

"Please excuse my tardiness," Jungkook took his chance right when someone finished his performance, making a loud announcement that turned everybody’s head. "I shall read a poem I wrote for Miss Nadia.”

Your expression was hard to read; though you were certainly annoyed by his sudden appearance, there was something gleaming in your eyes that he could not overlook. Your eyes locked in a room full of people, something that seemed to happen quite frequently between the two of you. Your effect on him made him nervous to perform; for some reason, he cared for your opinion quite a bit.

Naturally, everybody respected the viscount and his wishes, giving him their full attention. Nadia’s smile was beaming; your mother was more than happy to see the viscount show further interest in her daughter, and the rest were in awe of the viscount, whose shell was very hard to penetrate to make such an effort for the diamond.

"What is it to truly admire a woman?" he read from a small piece of paper in his hand, and your heart began to beat faster than it should have. "To look at her and feel inspiration, to delight in her beauty, so much that all— all your defenses—"

Suddenly, he stopped; everybody in the room quieted as they attentively listened to his beautiful words. His sudden silence caught some off guard, including you, who sat there looking at him with longing eyes, and Nadia, whose smile slowly vanished. Whispers began to break out.

"My apologies, I cannot do this," the viscount stated, resulting in Nadia frowning slightly. "Truth be told, I am not a man of poetry; those words are someone else’s entirely."

A few quiet gasps could be heard around the crowd of people, but Jungkook did not shy away from speaking the truth.

"Miss Nadia... I cannot offer you pretty words and rhymes, but I assure you, when it comes to action and duty; I shall never be found lacking."

Your breath hitched in your throat, as if his words were hitting you in your chest.

There was a part of you that was grateful for his honesty; the probability that your sister would not want to continue a courtship based on a false perception.

But there was another part that hated his honesty; why did the man you were supposed to hate repeatedly find his way into your heart by revealing sides of him you felt drawn to?

You knew the viscount did not want a love match.

And you loathed him.

So why did your chest burn with every word he spoke?

You could tell your sister was lost for words, watching the viscount with curious eyes.

"Nadia..." your voice came out smaller than you expected. "If you wish for him to leave, I—"

But your sister’s response shocked you. She stood up and clapped her hands, a sign of approval for the viscount’s words.

Others started joining her, but you stayed put in your place.

Jungkook’s growing smile beamed, feeling relieved that Nadia didn’t seem to mind his lack of verbal affection.

"Nadia," you murmured to your sister. "Did you not hear what he said? He cannot offer you the love that you long for."

Nadia let out an understanding "I know," before explaining herself, "I have come to accept that. I do not need a love match that can turn into an incompatible marriage in the future; I now merely desire a stable, harmonious marriage, and I believe the viscount can offer that to me."

You did not know what to do besides sigh and nod. "I just want you to be happy, Nini."

Your sister took your hand and lovingly squeezed it before giggling. "I do hope you and the viscount can find common ground throughout our marriage."

You simply awkwardly smiled at her to mask the storm brewing inside you.

She got up to confront the viscount, while you sat on the couch, staring into nothingness while contemplating the confusing feelings that were so foreign to you.

___

With every passing day and night, Jungkook found himself consumed by thoughts of you.

You appeared in his dreams, haunting him like a beautiful ghost, the face behind his sleepless nights.

He was aware of the problematic nature of the situation—courting one sister while dreaming of the other was not something a gentleman did.

But your beauty resembled summer nights and hidden love letters, while your resistant character was consuming and complex; yet he saw kindness in your eyes.

To be truthful, he could not stop his thoughts surrounding you since that morning in the park—the first time you two talked, the first time he heard your beautiful voice.

While you swore you would not admit it to a living soul, you felt similarly.

The viscount refused to leave your mind, appearing in your dreams unannounced and causing havoc inside your heart with every moment you stayed in or out of his presence.

You could not bear it.

Not only did the viscount consume you, but shame accompanied him.

But you promised yourself it was a fleeting moment, and he told himself to suppress his feelings.

___

"My dears, we have received an invitation from Jeon House, inviting us for a week to their country residence in order to continue the courtship away from the ton’s attention; is that not lovely?" your mother spoke, excitement evident in her voice. She was sat beside your father, who was paying more attention to the pie.

"Ah, yes, I’m afraid I cannot join you for that trip; I have business to attend to here in the city," your father spoke, placing a reassuring hand over your mother’s. "But I am certain you will handle it yourself, dear."

Your mother simply nodded and smiled, still in a very happy state about where her daughter’s courtship was headed. Nadia was sat next to you with a similar shy smile on her face.

You, on the other hand, could not help but feel a strange sensation; it was so foreign and something you could not describe. You loved seeing your sister happy, yet there was always a selfish voice in your head.

What if the viscount were to propose?

You began to imagine that scenario in your mind, and you did not like the thought of it at all.

But you feared it wasn’t because of your ‘hatred’ for the viscount, but because of something that was quite the opposite.

___

After packing, organizing carriages, and your mother stressing the entire day, you finally made your journey to the countryside.

It was only your mother, your sister, and you, as your mother thought your younger siblings were better off at home with the housekeeper.

You felt beautiful, dressed in the finest clothes, the most beautiful cosmetics put on your already lovely face. But you were in an undeniable state of distress.

Just as you stepped out of the carriage after four long hours, you were met with the friendly faces of the Jeon family.

Your eyes immediately met the viscount’s, who always seemed to have a certain look of yearning and some sort of pain when he saw you. You locked eyes with his deep brown ones, which somehow spoke a thousand words. His nostrils flared slightly, and it was as if you were both in a trance, unable to take your eyes off each other.

You shared a moment swimming in his eyes before he slowly diverted his gaze elsewhere.

Somehow, he looked even more handsome than the last time you had seen him.

You rued those feelings, the tingle you felt near him, the desperate need to be in his strong arms, to be the only one he knew to love—those feelings you had only read about in books, the tingling in body parts you were taught not to speak of.

But more than that, you cursed yourself for feeling them; how dare you think about your sister’s intended that way?

Were you a girl of no upbringing? Were you not a lady intended for marriage in just less than a year? It was breaking not only your soul but your perception of yourself to be plagued by these feelings; but you knew it would break you more to betray your sister, so you knew you had to stay quiet.

Amidst your overwhelming thoughts, a graceful young lady who was about the age of your older sister and bore a great resemblance to the viscount approached you, right after greeting your mother. She stood next to the viscount, and unbeknownst to you, noticed the shared glances of longing between the viscount and you, surprised to see her usually earnest brother so taken by a girl.

"You must be Miss Nadia," she spoke with a gentle smile. "I am Miss Yoona, the viscount’s younger sister. I have heard very much about you. You are even more beautiful than he described."

You bowed respectfully, yet you did not have the words to express that you were not who she thought you were.

Jungkook stepped in, embarrassment slightly evident on his face as he coughed a little. "Yoona, that is not Miss Nadia; that is her little sister—Miss Yn."

He then pointed to your sister, who was greeting the viscountess. You saw a look of confusion on Yoona’s face.

After everybody greeted each other, you settled into the rooms assigned to you and made yourselves at home.

The rooms were spacious, clean, and very elegantly decorated.

The Jeons were indeed a very generous family.

You suppressed the thought of how lovely it would be to marry into the family, as it was just a thought for you, but the reality for your sister.

And you did not want to hurt your sister or yourself.

___

Despite the comfortable beds and the expensive silk fabric of the sheets, you could not sleep.

Not only because you were not used to sleeping on foreign beds in foreign houses, but because, if your mind could not rest, you could not.

Nadia, on the other hand, had fallen fast asleep on the bed next to yours.

You needed something to distract you from the chaos in your head; a glass of cold water or a breath of fresh air would do.

As silently as you could, you got out of bed and started wandering the halls of the grand Jeon house with a lamp in your hand.

It was magnificent.

You breathed in the warmth, smiling to yourself; it was as if the house knew what a loving family owned it.

While walking towards nothing specific, you stumbled into a large room, empty of people and full of books.

You entered it with a calm heart, grabbing one book after another, taking in the beauty of the written words.

Your calmness was short-lived as you heard the huge door open. You gasped loudly and held up the lamp to see who it was.

Before you stood the viscount in a nightshirt that modestly exposed his muscular arms. He looked handsome, even at nighttime.

"Are you not able to sleep, Miss Yn?" he asked while fully entering the room.

You shyly turned your whole body toward him, feeling exposed in your silky nightgown that clung to your every curve.

Feeling his eyes flicker over you, a sense of timidity washed over you. "No... I cannot seem to fall asleep. I do apologize for roaming around without permission, my lord; I simply could not resist these many books."

Jungkook chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly.

"You do not need to apologize," he assured you, now standing in front of you. "This is...was my father’s library. He read and collected books from all over the world. He was a very well-read man."

"May his soul rest easy," you softly sighed, pouting slightly at the mention of his deceased father. "He sounds like an extraordinary man."

Jungkook nodded in agreement. "He was. I would not be the man and the viscount that I am today if it were not for him."

You did not answer, simply making space for a short moment of beautiful silence between you. Your eyes were intertwined with his deep ones; you felt as if you could dive into them.

"Can I ask you a question?" he suddenly asked; you simply nodded. "Why is it that you are so opposed to the idea of me marrying your sister? Do you truly hate me so?"

You broke the eye contact for a second, trying to gather your answer, while your heartbeat undeniably quickened. "I do not hate you, my lord. I simply worry for my sister. I want the very best for her."

The viscount came closer to you, chuckling again, exposing his barely visible dimples. "And you believe that I cannot offer her the best?"

Your arms were now touching, sending electricity through your body.

"I simply cannot forget what I overheard in the gardens at Danbury House," you answered his question as confidently as you could.

Jungkook’s eyes slightly darkened at your words. "Those words were not for your ears, Miss Yn."

You started to become defensive, letting out a "But I did hear them regardless."

He poked his cheek with his tongue, his nostrils flaring up with mild anger, stepping closer to you until there was hardly any space left between you. "You do not know how much you aggravate me, Yn Ln."

You now felt his fresh breath against your face, causing dizziness.

"And you," you uttered quietly in response, your eyelids becoming heavier. "You believe you do not vex me? I have only grown to accept your presence for my sister’s sake, but only God knows how long I will last in this... this lie."

Jungkook tucked your hair behind your ear, leaning in to whisper into it. "This lie that you insist upon, what is it exactly? That you and I vex each other... or that we cannot seem to get away from one another?"

His voice was low and thick, tinged with a hint of teasing. You slightly backed away, but only to meet his dark eyes, which seemed to challenge you.

He leaned in until his lips were almost brushing against yours.

"My lord," you spoke in a soft whisper. "I—"

The sound of the door opening interrupted you.

Before you could get away from each other, a shocked Yoona witnessed the scene; as quickly as she entered, she left again, closing the door after saying a rushed "I am so sorry.”

You separated from Jungkook immediately after, running out in embarrassment and shame, leaving Jungkook standing in the middle of the library.

You could not believe what you had done.

___

Dinner with the Jeons was incredibly amusing; they were a big, loving family who were not afraid to share jokes and stories, even in front of guests.

To say you enjoyed yourself at dinner would have been an understatement.

In a moment of beautiful chaos, everybody laughed while simultaneously discussing intellectual topics. Jungkook raised his glass and stood up to make an announcement.

He was seated at the head of the table.

"I would very much like to start my toast by thanking our dear guests for taking their time to visit us at our country house. We are very delighted by your presence here with us," he started his tasteful speech. "Miss Nadia, it has been a delight to get to know you further. It is safe to say the Baron and Baroness Ln deserve praise for raising such an upstanding, demure woman... I would like to ask you a question, Miss Nadia."

While he spoke, the entire room fell silent, everybody attentively listening. His words added suspense to the atmosphere, making everyone wonder what he wanted to ask her.

It was obvious what everybody immediately thought of—for he was most likely going to ask for her hand in marriage.

Your mother and Nadia exchanged excited looks while you felt a thick lump form in your throat. The Jeons were all looking at Jungkook with an air of anticipation, waiting for him to finally speak the words.

Yoona tried her best not to gaze upon her brother with a frown of disapproval after she experienced whatever it was that happened between him and you the other night.

Jungkook began to awkwardly cough and put on somewhat of a feigned smile. "I wanted to ask you if you were ready for a game of pall-mall with this family or if you’d rather spare yourself the mayhem."

The whole table broke out in laughter—partially because they genuinely laughed and partially to cover up the awkwardness of the situation.

But you did not laugh, and neither did your sister.

"I would be... honored to play a game of pall-mall with you and your family, my lord," your sister tried to mask her sadness playfully.

During the rest of the dinner, your hand was placed on your sister’s back, soothingly running it up and down her spine.

___

Hours after the dinner, it was nighttime when you were supposed to be asleep, but you and Nadia found yourselves sitting on the bed—her head on your lap and your hand in her hair.

You always comforted each other in non-ideal situations, but this time felt different; it was the first time you felt you had wronged your sister, being the reason for her despair.

"Perhaps the viscount does not wish to propose because of you," your sister suggested, looking up and trying to gauge your reaction.

Your breath slightly hitched as you felt your cheeks warm.

"Uh—whatever do you mean, sister?" you carefully asked.

Nadia gave you a knowing look, presumably confused as to how you did not understand what she meant.

"The two of you loathe one another!" she exclaimed, her words making you sigh in relief. "He is probably under the impression that you would not approve."

You chuckled lightly at the irony. "Nini, he does not care what I think! I am your younger sister, not Baba or even Mama. Even if I do not approve, I do not make the decisions for this family; Baba does."

Your sister nodded but elaborated further, "I know, but there is something in my heart telling me that you are the reason he is so... reluctant."

Your heart skipped a beat, hoping she would not come to the right conclusions, wondering how you could steer her away from thoughts that could possibly lead to the destruction of your sisterly relationship.

"It is not as if I am desperate to marry him, but I believe it would make Mama and Baba unbelievably happy if I were to marry the viscount," she continued, sighing as she absentmindedly played with her hair. "He is wealthy, and he comes from a great family... I do not want to disappoint them."

"If the viscount does not wish to propose to you, it is not because you are lacking, Nini. You shall find wealthy suitors in every city you visit," you stated your opinion. "But I shall talk to him about it if that is what you wish."

Nadia jumped up from your lap, now facing you.

"I should very much like that, Yn," she admitted.

You gave her a gentle smile before getting up to pay the viscount’s office a visit.

His office was on the other side of the mansion—a long way to walk—but with your thoughts running wild, you did not feel the length of the walk.

You knocked on his door hesitantly and entered after he called out, "Come in."

He was seated at his paper-covered desk, staring down with intensity before looking up and seeing you.

"Miss Yn," he addressed you with a trace of surprise in his voice. "Is everything quite all right?"

You did not feel like wasting time, so you jumped right to your point.

"You have been set on courting my sister despite my every objection, and now you plan to cast her aside?" you accused, your tone defensive. "What has she done to deserve this?"

His eyes darkened; he momentarily forgot about the paperwork, getting up from his chair to walk up to you.

"It is not her," he raised his voice. "It is you."

His honest words felt like a gentle hit in your face; your intuition knew what he meant.

"But I am to marry next season!" you exclaimed reactively.

"You believe that is what I desire you to do?" he shouted, his jaw clenched. "There is not a thing you can do—not a corner on this earth that you can travel to—that will free me from this torment."

He continued, "I am a gentleman; my father raised me to act with honor, but that honor hangs by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence."

"You are the bane of my existence... and the object of all my desires," the viscount added, almost in agony, coming closer to you, whispering in your ear. "Night and day, I dream of you. And when I—do you even know all the ways a lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you..."

Your breath hitched; your tight dress accentuated your breasts as your breath quickened with every word he spoke with every step he took closer to you.

"I did not ask for this," you finally got the chance to talk, facing him directly, barely an inch away. "To be plagued by these feelings... being distracted every time you enter the room, hiding those feelings from my sister... I did not ask for any of it."

"If I were to wed your sister, that would bind me to you for eternity," he stated, stepping away from you. "And I would spend my whole marriage dreaming of you, wanting you, longing for you... until the last thread of my honor snaps. Is that the future you want for us? For your sister?"

You shook your head, unable to say anything.

"Then I shall not go forward with this courtship," he declared, his eyes burning into your skin. "If that is what you wish."

You slightly shook your head—not out of disagreement, but as a signal to yourself to stop the urge to melt into him, a dizzying feeling taking over you.

"It is very much what I wish, my lord," you admitted in a whisper. "I could not bear it..."

He stepped closer again, now breathing your air. "What could you not bear?"

Your fingers grazed his and it felt like a fire ignited inside you.

"I could not," you whispered into his ear, fingers tapping gently against his thick arms. "I could not bear the sight of you with her."

Jungkook leaned into your touch, his eyes closing from the overwhelming urge to embrace your whole body.

"Yn..." he softly breathed into your ear. "All I find myself thinking about—all I find myself being able to breathe for—is you. Do you think I want to be in this position? Contending with these thoughts of wanting to be nowhere except with you. Wanting to run away with you. Acting on the most impure, forbidden desires, no matter... how much I must remind myself I am a gentleman and you are a lady."

Your breath hitched, and you felt a sensation between your legs, pressing them together. He continued, "It is maddening how much you consume my every being."

You grazed your hand further down his arms, eyes locked and bodies almost pressing against each other; if anyone were to catch you, it would be scandalous.

"No," you protested in a whisper. "It is you— you who has thrown my world off its axis, you who has made me question my sanity, you who consumes my every thought, so do not dare to blame me... do not blame me."

Your lips brushed against each other, his breath hitting your lips and your breath hitting his, before they finally collided and became one in a passionate kiss. His hands wandered down to your defined waist, grabbing onto you as if you would fly away.

Your hearts were racing; he cupped your face with one hand and fiddled with your dress with the other; you melted into one.

"Tell me you want this," Jungkook insisted in a breathy, aroused voice.

"I want this, my lord," you purred against him, before gently biting into his lower lip. "Teach me everything you know."

Jungkook had no self-control in that moment, feeling like an animal in the wilderness.

He loosened the ties of your dress with an urgent hand, and you felt the cool air caress your skin as the fabric fell open. Your breasts, heavy and full, spilled out of the dress, begging for his attention. Jungkook's eyes locked onto them, his pupils dilated with desire.

His hands wandered down to your hips, gripping the curve of your bottom through the thin fabric of your undergarment. Your skin prickled with goosebumps as he pulled you closer, his mouth still devouring yours. You could feel the heat emanating from him, the tension in his body a testament to the passion that burned between you.

"Are you certain?" he asked once again, his hands working to remove your undergarments.

You simply nodded, too dizzy and aroused to form a sentence.

Your hands wandered over his shirt, playing with the buttons before tugging on it, urging him to take it off, which he did, revealing his strong arms and chest. You kept your hands glued to them while he took off your bodice, revealing your full breasts to him.

Lifting you up and sitting you down on his desk, he immediately massaged your breasts and took one in his mouth, licking and sucking on it, making you moan in pleasure. "I have dreamt of this very moment for so long, Yn."

You ‘hmm’ed in response, grinding your hips against his in search of friction. You felt a big bulge in his pants, moving your own up and down on it, resulting in quiet groans from Jungkook.

"I..." you tried your best to formulate a thought. "I am so... sticky between my legs, my lord; is that normal?"

Jungkook chuckled amidst his arousal, leaning in to plant a short kiss on your lips. "Yes, my love; that is quite a good sign. Do not worry."

You felt comfortable with him; you admitted, "I have the same feeling quite often when I think of you," without realizing the implications.

Jungkook threw his head back in desire, unable to contain his urges to take you right there.

He took your hand in his and led it to his pants.

"Feel it," he urged, his voice simmering with lust as you began to grab his hardness and gently rubbing it. "That is what you do to me, Yn."

You tugged at his pants, and he quickly took them off, first revealing his drawers, which he removed as well.

He could not waste any more time.

As he revealed his large penis, you gasped.

"Do not be afraid, my love," he assured. "I will be very gentle.”

You were seated on the desk, and he was standing before you, his naked parts touching, with gasps and moans filling the entire room.

He positioned himself in front of you, looking into your eyes to ensure you were ready, only to be met with your awaiting gaze.

"What are you going to do now?" you hesitantly asked, hands on his bare arms.

His hands were placed lovingly on your soft waist, soothing you to ensure you were comfortable. "I will enter you now."

You nodded, not fully understanding the idea.

You blamed the mamas who were too ashamed to speak of essential things like that one.

Slowly entering the tip inside you, you gasped from the pain. "It hurts, my lord."

Jungkook stopped for a moment to cup your face, planting a kiss on your lips. "It will take time, but soon enough, you shall find pleasure in it, I promise."

You gazed at him, immediately believing his words, but wondering, "Does it hurt you as well?"

Jungkook laughed at that, slowly starting to thrust gently into you. "No, not at all. It is a very pleasant feeling for me."

His words came out as grunts, which you found incredibly attractive.

"Well, that is certainly unfair," you pouted, but gradually adjusted to the new feeling.

Jungkook agreed with you, saying, "I know," while chuckling.

As you began to get used to his thrusts, you leaned in even closer, urging him to fully enter you and thrust harder.

"You are simply the most beautiful woman I have laid eyes upon," he praised with hushed grunts, to which you cooed.

The fact that your families were outside the four walls of his office, peacefully sleeping, was something long forgotten by both of you, alongside the idea that he was the man who was supposed to be courting your sister.

You chose to forget about the one thing that was printed in your mind for the past months, even if only for a few minutes.

His thrusts began to become stronger, eliciting seductive sounds from both of you. His strategy to make less noise was kissing you almost the entire time.

His big hands roamed your entire body, and your legs wrapped around his hips; you were surprised at your ease—being with him felt not only beautiful but also effortless.

After a few final thrusts, his hips began to stutter, and a foreign sensation started to form in your stomach, causing you to look at him with a helpless expression, to which he answered, "I know, I know, my love; just allow it to happen."

You hesitantly let go, your head tilting back as you felt yourself reach a pinnacle—a feeling of pure bliss.

Jungkook could barely speak understandably, closing his eyes as he savored the last few thrusts before he reached his orgasm, pulling out and coming on a piece of cloth before he could release inside you.

"You did beautifully," he smiled and kissed your forehead lovingly.

You simply smiled back, the shame slowly returning as you put on your dress again.

He engulfed you in a gentle embrace before whispering into your ear, "Go rest now, my love; we shall see what we do tomorrow. Do not worry about anything; I will take care of it. That is a promise."

Somehow, you did not feel comforted by his words, but you reluctantly obliged, ignoring the slight pain in your legs as you walked through the halls of the mansion back to the room you had to temporarily share with your sister, who was already asleep.

You could not sleep that night, too consumed by wondering how and when you became that bad of a person.

___

The following day, you avoided Jungkook as much as you could. You felt ashamed, dirty; you felt like a bad person.

Your uncommonly quiet behavior did not go unnoticed by your mother and your sister; they kept pestering you about it.

But you did not know what to say to them.

Throughout the entire game of pall-mall, you acted out of the ordinary, not playing as well as you normally could.

Nadia and you were playing with Jungkook and four of his siblings, who were all much better players than the two of you.

"It seems you have forgotten the game, sister," Nadia giggled, watching you struggle with the mallet.

You kicked the ball hard in the wrong direction and almost tripped over; if it had not been for the strong hand that held your waist up.

"Be careful," the viscount’s deep voice rang in your ears.

Although you could stand on your own, he continued to hold onto your waist, his lips almost touching your ear. He forgot his surroundings, and so did you, as you locked eyes and shut out everything that was not each other.

It was a sight of pure chemistry, pure love; a blind man could see the feelings sparking between the two of you.

Visions of the prior night swirled in your mind as you leaned into his muscular body, completely in tune with him even in sheer silence.

Until Yoona interrupted you two with a cough, causing you to separate as quickly as possible from each other with more than embarrassed faces.

Jungkook’s siblings awkwardly laughed, and Nadia’s eyes, which you were avoiding, were boring into you penetratingly.

After the game, you went back to your rooms to prepare for lunch.

Strategically dodging your sister as much as possible, you pretended like nothing had happened between the viscount and you, while your insides brewed with fire.

But Nadia was the confrontational type.

"I see the way you look at each other, Yn," she admitted to you, hurt evident in her voice. "I have seen it for a long time, but I thought... you hated him. Had I known you did not, I would have ended the courtship."

"Nini..." you whispered. "I did not want to hurt you. I do not know how I could have been so selfish. You do not know how much I hate myself right now. I did not tell you because I was ashamed of myself... I did not want you to think that I purposely wanted to steal the man you love."

"I am not in love with him!" Nadia exclaimed in response, "I love you! You are my sister, Yn. If you would have told me from the beginning, I would not have been angry with you."

"I am so deeply sorry, Nadia," your face was a tearful mess at that point. "I did not know what to do; I thought... I was sure this would be just a passing infatuation, but... please forgive me, sister."

Your sister’s gentle hands found their way to your tear-stained cheeks. "I understand..."

"Please, I beg of you, do not let this ruin our sisterhood," you sounded pathetic, but you did not care.

You loved a man you were not supposed to love; you did things you were never supposed to do.

"You are my little sister, Yn," even in anger, her voice was soft and assuring. "You always will be... but do give me time to process this."

You nodded, immediately pulling her into a warm, strong embrace, whispering "I love you" to her.

___

You traveled back to London in complete silence, your sister still unsure how to talk to you and your mother, disappointed in the lack of proposals, but still happy with the time spent together.

For a couple of weeks, you did not hear anything from the viscount or his family. You tried to distract yourself with books and art, but nothing filled the emptiness in your heart.

You knew you gave the viscount the impression that you did not wish to speak with him, but you longed to hear or read his words.

One day, your mother entered your room with a pensive look. "Mama, what is it?"

"Yn... I have news, very important ones," she sat down at the edge of your spacious bed and took your hand in hers. "The viscount... he asked for your hand this morning. Your Baba approves, and Nadia does too, my love."

Your heart jumped outside your body for a moment, completely in shock.

You were happy, but you were not at the same time; perhaps the viscount only proposed because he was the gentleman he claimed to be and was merely fulfilling his duty?

"The viscount does not love me, Mama; I know it..." you sniveled, sadness washing over you. "He is simply fulfilling his duties because we..."

Your mother cut you off with an understanding look.

"Yn..." she spoke softly. "It is well; you do not need to tell me what happened between you and the viscount."

You sent a grateful gaze at her.

She always knew the right words to say when you were in distress.

"But, my dear," your mother expressed in an almost hesitant tone. "Whether the viscount wishes to marry you out of duty or out of love... I believe we should accept his proposal."

You were not angry at her idea because you wanted to marry him more than anything else in the world, but you feared he felt forced into proposing.

It was as if your heart had declared war on your mind.

Reluctantly, you nodded.

"I understand," you softly whispered. "Tell Baba to accept his proposal, but I wish to speak with the viscount beforehand."

Immediately after what you said, your mother ordered the maid to send an invitation for tea to the Jeon house.

___

The next day, Jungkook arrived with his mother by his side and an expensive bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"These are for you," he handed them to you, smiling shyly.

You silently thanked him, feeling the awkwardness brew; thankfully, your mother took the viscountess aside and left you and Jungkook enough room for a private conversation.

"I have not heard back about the proposal yet," Jungkook carefully started.

You nodded. "I have my Mama’s and Baba’s approval... Nadia’s too."

Jungkook watched you with attentive eyes, trying to gather what was holding you back from taking him as your husband.

"But I am afraid you are only proposing because of what happened at the country house," you confessed to him, looking down at your lap. "I do not want a marriage that is based solely on duties, Jungkook."

Jungkook looked frustrated, shaking his head.

"Listen to me, Yn," he grabbed your chin gently, locking his eyes with yours. "I love you. I have loved you from the moment we raced each other in that park. I have loved you at every dance, on every walk, every time we've been together, and every time we have been apart. You do not have to accept it, embrace it, or even allow it. Knowing you, you probably will not. But you must know it in your heart. You must feel it because I do. I love you."

You looked away for a second, tears of joy and longing filling your eyes.

While you gathered your words, he continued, "I know I am imperfect, but I will humble myself before you because I cannot imagine my life without you, and that is why I wish to marry you."

At that point, your face was tear-stained all over, returning your gaze to him as you smiled delicately.

"I love you, Jungkook, and I will marry you," you declared. "But do not think there will come a day where you do not vex me."

He now wore a big smile on his face, leaning in to engulf your full lips in a gentle kiss.

"Is that a promise, Yn Ln?" he breathed against your lips.

___

hiiii, i’m back!! i hope u all get my vision of jungkook as the viscount bridgerton because i do. btw, i’m sorry i’m not rlly active on here but i am a college student okay, i am very busy i cannot help it😭😭 i try to write as much as possible but a girl’s gotta have priorities. anyway, i hope everybody who reads this has a nice day💋 (btw, i love ur feedback, ur comments, etc. so pls don’t be shy)

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iceunhie · 8 months ago

Text

[ 3 + 1 ].

premise. in which entails your daily life being in a relationship with the one and only eccentric wanderer. (alternatively: wanderer's love for you comes in many forms. you welcome them all the same.)

warnings: established relationship, hurt-comfort, slice of life, wanderer is called kuni. jealousy (wanderer), angst. FLUFF fluff fluff. wanhida family goals

a/n: ITS SCARAMOUCHE WANDERER SEASON his event broke me btw [in tears]

BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX !

# observation one: unconventionally clingy

early on in your relationship, this side of the wanderer remains quite privy to himself alone. this is because he has a very, very uncanny similarity to an aggressive and guarded cat that hisses when given an ounce of affection.

this does not mean he doesn't like your outlandish and grand displays of affection, though; its actually the opposite. (LOL)

the true crux of the matter lies in his inability to let down his guarded pride to admit that he thinks your affection is his lifeblood. (basically, “ew, affection... do it again”)

he's a menace (affectionate), and if you were one for critiquing that aspect of his character, you wouldn't have been in a relationship with him by now, anyway.

however—there is always a however when it comes to him—this does not mean that wanderer doesn't come across points of anxiousness over the fact that his less than affable personality may be something you will grow sick of one day.

he knows he isn't the best choice of a romantic partner; seriously, what were you even thinking... but when he establishes that you are indeed now an irreplaceable part of his life (which will take a long time, good luck), he clings to you with a fierce desperation underneath all that thorn and bristle.

this is part of his visceral fear of abandonment—you are the one thing that he adores, cares for with his entire being (nahida as a close second), and to watch you slip away from him due to his own misgivings will spell out a death sentence for him.

(so please, treat him gently; cradle his cracked palms and broken psyche, and slowly, emphasis on slowly, but surely, he will learn to return in kind.)

this ‘clinginess’ comes forth in his proximity to you. once he has felt comfortable with your relationship, wanderer is quite unafraid to show how touchy he is in his own way.

whether that is to get groceries in your shared home, following after you like a second shadow when you go to the grand bazaar, or even shooing away people that harass you (tba), the wanderer's gaze and all his efforts are always directed to your will.

(you dubbed this as ‘scary cat boyfriend privilege’—and are rewarded with a painful flick to the forehead. ouch.)

—☆★☆—

“where are you going?” the slender hand that stops you from leaving your comfy bed does little to help your need to fall back into the blissful arms of sleep.

“just going to go get some water, kuni.”

waking up to the sight of the wanderer in all his divine glory certainly isn't one of the things you expected in your life, but you welcome it all the same. leaving a simple kiss to his forehead, you pry your hand away with a gentleness you reserve only for him.

he flushes, a lovely red adorning cheeks, to the span of his neck. oh, how you love seeing him melt.

“you won't take too long?”

he doesn't need to breathe, but he sucks in a breath anyway, face twisting to a deep set frown—your telltale sign that your kunikuzushi had a nightmare.

an unanswered question. you won't leave?

your hand caresses the silky soft strands of his purple hair, that in which wanderer nuzzles into. he doesn't seem keen on telling you, and you respect that. you'd wait for him as long as he'd like.

“of course i will. not going anywhere, silly.”

why would i? you convey in that same gesture. i love you.

the tightness of his face relaxes, his grip on your hand loosening. right—you weren't. (you were not going to abandon him.)

“hurry up and come back, then. it's far too early.” his voice is still thick with sleep, though that doesn't temper his signature sass at all.

i love you too. goes unsaid.

your grin sharpens, teasing. “aww, don't miss me too much, okay?”

anddd there's the signature scowl. “...never mind, don't come back.”

“hey!”

shuffling to hide his face from you, wanderer sports a genuine smile, hidden from your sight.

because in your presence, the wanderer stills, and all thoughts of a doomed eternity fall short of how he commits himself to you—wanderer loves and loves, loves you, for you nestle in the space his heart was meant to be, holding onto the mere wisps of your identity and weaving it into the mosaic of his soul.

it's silent save for when you plop yourself back to the bed, bearhugging wanderer and complaining about waking up early again because you stayed up all night playing tcg with him. (he's at 10 wins and 5 losses and he was not going to be caught lacking).

“you do realize that's entirely your fault, right?” he gloats. “it's not my fault my card bested that lawachurl of yours.”

“what?! no way, mister! my all geo team is still superior, mind you-”

once, wanderer wondered about the concept of infinity.

everlasting devotion. of unabashed care and trust. as he listens to your ramblings as the night falls to day, he figures that what you currently share fits that concept just fine.

# observation two: (very) jealous tendencies

it isn't in wanderer's intention to be jealous. well, so he says.

really, he isn't! after all, what was there to be jealous of? absurd! looks, intellect, an extensive range of vocabulary not limited to insults and creative verbal attacks; wanderer boasts quite the sizable number of pros that get most people falling at his feet. (his outward personality leaves much to be desired, however, but his snark does have a certain charm. probably).

and of all the bashful akademiya seniors and well-intentioned young women (and men), you managed to get into a relationship with this black cat of a derisive puppet. this is an achievement worthy of celebration, for not just anyone can take the wanderer and burrow into his many, many guarded walls and claim the title of being his lover.

yet, wanderer is the more jealous one in the relationship.

he knows that you won't cheat on him, and trusts that you won't look at others in such a way. but still, your boyfriend can't help but doubt. be patient when working out his jealousy, for it is a double edged sword—on one hand, wanderer was so adorable when he was jealous; sulky, clingy, hot you name it! and it was very flattering, knowing that he loved you enough to want to keep you all to himself.

but, the other side was quite... a piece of work. should you attempt to tease him about such a thing, it ends in three ways. one, him flying off to god knows where and leaving you alone (😐), two, restricting you from hugging and giving him affection (😭), and worse, giving you the silent treatment (😨). choose your ammunition wisely.

and from this, be prepared for the wanderer to monopolize your attention all to himself— with said admirers mysteriously off the grid or too afraid to approach you for fear of his wrath. i'll say it once: a jealous wanderer is a force to be reckoned with. (and we love him for it)

(he was chided endlessly by nahida for this; “you're scaring all the researchers that want to do a thesis review with [name]!” she says.

a sly smirk was his only reply).

—☆★☆—

“what, and here i thought he had more bark left in him.” wanderer huffs haughtily, with the researcher dashing away as if his life depended on it.

“you'll get scolded by nahida again, you know. i don't think the dendro archon's trusted aide should boast a terrifying reputation.”

he snorts. “lesser lord kusanali has better things to do than chide me for harassment.”

“but you don't have better things to do than scaring away poor kimiya?”

that gets you an eye roll that could reach massive highs of ‘what about it?’ from your boyfriend. “you're overthinking.” (translation: you're right).

“uh huh, sure i am.”

“whatever. who you talk to and interact with is none of my concern. it's not like i care about such things anyway.” he retorts. “i'm not possessive.”

so he says. “by the way, his pickup line was pathetic—‘are you anemo because your beauty blows me away’? atrocious.”

your eyebrow raises in return. really, who was speaking about “not caring” and then judging right after? well, it's fine because he was kinda right.... cyno would definitely get along with that guy.

“it was sincere! i think he has to be commended for his efforts, no?”

“you call that effort?” his face scrunches to a dissatisfied frown.

kinoya, kimiya—he doesn't even remember his name anymore. wanderer doesn't care for those that waste his time, and more especially to those that attempt to get close to you in particular. honestly, what a cheap trick.

and you! you were seriously humoring that moony researcher earlier. you even smiled at him! wanderer seethes, crossing his arms. “its quite irritating, knowing that they flock to you under the guise of—what was it he said? right, ‘shared academic pursuits.’ it was too obvious.”

“first of all: that's rude, second, he really needed help! anyone would feel sorry for him.” you tut, pinching the smooth of wanderer's palm. you wisely decide not to comment on how he immediately interlocks hands with you.

you snicker. “and he was only asking for advice on his research topic, silly.”

“hah! how nice — you're defending him now.” it's incredible how wanderer has the uncanny ability to be just like an annoyed cat that dunked itself into a bucket of cold water; and the way he frowns at you only makes you let out an even worse fit of laughter.

wanderer drinks in the sound, resonating it with the beat of his soul, your laugh the heartbeat echoing deep within his veins. he is reduced to nothing with you—with you, his face relaxes; wanderer may be indifferent to humans, but with you, your mere existence is enough for him to falter like a human, weaken like a human.

and weakly, perhaps in an attempt to save face, he speaks, “you didn't deny it.”

“deny what?”

“...defending him.” (if he were a cat, his ears would definitely fall flat right now).

you let out another light laugh, but sparing your lover the torment, you cling to the side of his arm instead.

“i never had such intentions.” stating it quite firmly, “i'm only saying that there's no competition to be made, darling.”

he gives you a skeptical look in return. “was there even any?”

“none at all.” you lean closer to him, and the wanderer leans into the touch of your hand on his cheek. “since you're winning.”

the flustered blush you receive and the subconscious squeeze of his hand in yours conveys all you need to say.

that did the trick. wanderer's smile is satisfied—smug. “clearly, you managed to make the right call for once.”

“well, i could hardly resist you.”

afterwards, you note that the wanderer's pace doesn't seem as fast as usual anymore. no matter the jaw dropped stares of others at the two of you cozying up together, he never let go of your hand once.

(the next day, kimiya comes to you with a sheepish smile saying that he'd like to focus on his own without your help.

“was it your doing?” you look at the wanderer by your bedside table fastening his vision in pace, voice deadpanning.

“hah? why would i waste my time over some insignificant mortal?” he replies, but as he's putting on his hat, you see him smile to himself.

that little...)

# observation three: secretly? protective/considerate (green flag!!)

if you ask anyone who knows the wanderer on a personal note, you'd find out that he is, indeed, quite considerate—hidden underneath alllll that snark and aloofness and haughtiness, the wanderer cares for those who have helped him in some way, and with you as his partner (romantic), that care is multiplied tenfold hundredfold.

this quality of his, despite being endearing on paper and practice, is reminiscent of that of an aggressive mother hen; if you count wanderer as a hen that pecks someone incessently to show his care.

he chides you like an exasperated young maiden, but the soft way he handles your bruised arm littered with injuries from your recent run in with some strange fontainian seahorse contradicts his harsh scoldings.

(“bested by a fish? are you serious?”

“excuse you, i needed to get it's horns for materials, okay?!”

“...remind me why i'm stuck with an idiot for a companion.”

“uh, because i have a great personality, and you love me?”

“a decision i've made that's quite hard to defend, honestly.”

you stick your tongue out at him. yes, his habits also become yours.)

or how he tells you you're hopeless at cooking, but always manages to excuse himself to cook for you the moment he notices even the slightest decline in your health. one concern though; he throws the bento towards your head—so minus points for domesticity. (...he has cut heart shapes into the vegetables before and has never been the same since.)

if there's anything you can count wanderer for, he will do it. you could ask him to attempt to pluck the very fabric of reality for you, string together the stars and leave them at your feet, and he will do so, huffing all the while (he never means it). he's just smitten like that; not that he would ever verbalize it—yet. his hushed and vulnerable whispers of asking you to let him stay by your side are your closest road to his admittance.

he will not serenade you with ‘shallow declarations of love,’ as he tells you, but you know that he will always be there for you, for better or for worse.

—☆★☆—

fury is an emotion wanderer was once very accustomed to—it reminds him of electric violet, of three betrayals and of yearning for a constitution he was never fated to reach.

and fury tugs at the strings of his being the moment he sees the droplets of tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision.

“who did it?” something bitter and violent manifests in his countenance, his vision pulsing angrily with gales threatening to harm. (it does not harm you, though. it never does.) “who did this to you?”

his grip on your shoulders tightens the more you refuse to answer, both from anger and fear. you're never this silent; and his panic increases when you opt to bury yourself in his neck. wanderer sighs.

“hey. i'm asking who made you cry like this, idiot.”

“...”

“fine, i won't call you an idiot, then.” but impatient way he speaks the syllables that make your name betrays his worry. “just talk to me.”

“...can we just stay here like this?”

“....”

“sorry, that was a little-” you say, voice strained, pulling away; but the wanderer tugs you close, allowing you to hide from the world that seems so out to get you. (he knows that feeling well, after all.)

it's he who entangles himself with you, listening to the steady rise of your heartbeat, wiping away your tears.

“i didn't say you couldn't hug me, stupid. it's fine. do as you like.”

if it were a person that did this to you, that would've been better murder was never really out of the table with him, but when faced with something he is unable to solve for you; whether it be a bad day, bad luck, or even something he cannot control, wanderer finds himself at a loss.

because the concept of love, with you, is foreign—terrifying, even. betrayal and scorn were his guiding compass, and to be rid of it and to be seen by you, held by you, and to know that you were not going to follow in the footsteps of those he once clung to was far too good to believe. (yet he tries. for you.)

returning your embrace only passively, he tries to scramble for words of comfort—and when he fails to find the nerve to do so, he does the only thing he can allow himself to do.

with the kindness and gentleness he fostered (still fosters, thanks to you) from his memories as the kabukimono, the wanderer holds you, if only to remind himself of his place by your side, unchanging and adamant—as you remind him of his place beside yours.

he leads you to calm yourself down, albeit roughly as he tells you to stop fussing over trying to help him get you something wipe your tears with—and for all his flushed visage, he lets you cling to him, seeking his comfort.

i'm here, it goes unsaid. wanderer knows you'd pick up on it anyway. please talk to me.

(“if i die from this, i'll come haunt you as a ghost.” you shake like a leaf in his arms, clutched tight and staring at anywhere but the ground. who comforts someone by putting them almost 80 feet up in the air? heights are so not your thing.

“like i'd let you.” wanderer says, rolling his eyes. “and you're shaking too much. just keep your eyes on me, will you?”

“...was that flirting?”

“i will drop you.”

“wait, i'm kidding!” a particular breeze leaves you in goosebumps, with wanderer tightening his grip on you. “don't let me fall, please?”

“are you stupid?” he snaps, but urges you to look at the sight of the sunset on the horizon. his hold is more gentle this time, too. “why would i let you fall? now stop shaking and hold on to me.”

you think you fell just a little harder for him that day.)

—and if you decide to press a kiss to the back of his nape as a way of thanks, you're rewarded with a playful gale and a little zap to deter you in response.

“watch it, [name].” he says, but the shifty eyed way he doesn't meet your eyes isn't fooling anyone here; neither is the red on his cheeks. “you're too close.”

“hehe, sorry, sorry, couldn't resist.”

nonetheless. he supposes the growing smile on your face in place of your tears are sufficient payment for wanderer's efforts. hmph.

he'll let it slide for today.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

# deciding conclusion: totally in love with you (real not clickbait)

saying it outright: being with the wanderer is not a smooth road. it is full of hardships, hurt, and learning. there will be many times when his built in self destruction (read: abandonment issues) will kick in, hurting you in the process.

getting him to say ‘i love you’ will seem impossible at first, and there will be times when his doubt pierces your heart and renders it tattered to pieces. he's doing his best chat, pls help him

he will not be able to utter sweet words of adoration like you do, or return your embrace as easily as you would with him—and there will be many moments when he will feel as if he's not enough.

but nourish your affections, stay consistently by his side, show him that he is worth loving, worth staying for, and like the foundations of a steadily built tower, his trust and love for you too will grow.

(it will sometimes feel tiring, it will feel hopeless, and it's more than what you've bargained for, but it will all be worth it in the end.)

because you know he cares; it's in the way his expression morphs into helplessness when he sees your face fall in an argument, how he doesn't push you away when you kiss him and shower him with hugs, and when his hands lock tightly in yours in a sea of people, with you only in his sights. how his eyes betray him to look at you with fondness and warmth.

(it's wordless whenever wanderer decides to hold you tight at night, hugging you like his last lifeline. especially after a disagreement, with only the quietude of the night to observe.

he said some hurtful words today. that much he knows.

“are you asleep?” his voice is muffled against your shirt, and he may not need to breathe, but he inhales your scent anyway, memorizing the sight of you in his arms like a promise. “...you probably are.”

silence. “i'm sorry.”

“.....”

his lip trembles, his grasp on your arms bruising if not for your non-awareness. there's a wetness growing against your shirt, and small sniffles.

“i'm sorry.” and gently, so gently, wanderer presses his forehead against your shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of your body. “i shouldn't have snapped at you and told you those sorts of things.”

i'm sorry i hurt you.

please stay.

please don't let go of me.

i need you.

i love you.

when morning comes, you wake up to the sight of the wanderer in your bed, face nuzzled in your chest.

there are tearstains on his face.)

getting him to be open and vulnerable is akin to keeping a rusty, torn boat afloat; it will not be easy, no, but you know that he tries, (so very hard) to make it work. that he fights desperately against his own clumsily strung tethers and rebuilds himself anew, if only to understand and perceive you—to love you as you deserve.

and when that time comes, wanderer will cling to you, desperately, completely, and make sure your efforts will never ever make you regret giving him the chance to open up and be with you.

—☆★☆—

“what would happen if we ever broke up?”

dropping such a bombshell in the middle of having the wanderer on your lap was not how he thought things would go to, granted how pleasant the atmosphere was—he'd agreed to going on a much needed date (your words) with you after lesser lord kusanali had just graded him on one of his essay papers. (he got an a, obviously)

you don't think you've ever seen such a distraught look cross wanderer's face—aside from the time you finally beat him at tcg (5 out of 4); and you've never seen him look so angry either.

rather, he looked scared.

“what brought this idea on?” he tries to lodge out the words, trying to act coherent. but underneath, a storm brews—his hands are shaking. wanderer feels like he's swallowed a bag full of needles.

am i not doing enough? was i too harsh on them when i scolded them for fighting that damn mechanical desert robot? he's scared. or... do they really....

the mere idea of you being tired of him—sick of him, and ready to leave him behind leaves an ugly, disgusting feeling. like acid on his skin.

perhaps, you don't love him anymore? wanderer panics, senses going overdrive. was it that argument months ago when he hurt your feelings? he knows you know he apologized, and he's doing everything in his power to make sure he wasn't repeating that mistake anymore—but why would you say this out of nowhere?

or maybe it's because he didn't notice you feeling uncomfortable in your relationship? no, you would have definitely told him if so. then what is it? you don't just say things like this out of nowhere so seriously-

“i mean... at this point, i think i wouldn't ever want to break up with you.”

“...what?” wanderer blinks.

“you heard me.” cupping the sides of his face with your hands, you restate your words with more vigor. eyes determined. “i don't think i've ever loved someone so much as i love you. heck, not even close! kuni, if we break up, i might actually never recover.”

and the wanderer falls. how could you even say such a thing?

“that's... you're shameless.” he states it like an insult, but his hands go up to hide his eyes, hiding his embarrassment from your romantic words. “why would you even say something so out of pocket like that? you utter fool. you almost made me think i-”

- would lose you. even thinking it made him feel nauseous.

“why are we still dating then? but really, i mean it. i love you too much.” you coo, and that, in return, leads the wanderer to release an exasperated, weary sigh. if he were human, he's sure his blood pressure would never be normal because of you.

but contrary to his attitude, he relaxes his face and allows you to hold him. lightens up, even. you continue, rambling on, “be honest, you know you love me.”

“unfortunately.”

and that brings out such a bright and dazzling smile on your face that the puppets sarcastic smile is replaced by a real one when you huff and smack at his head. (all is well.)

“you're so unromantic.”

indeed, being with this strange, eccentric puppet was certainly a challenge in more ways than one. nonetheless, you know he cherishes you—because with you, the wanderer is different. he's bristly, infuriating, and honestly a pain (lovingly), but he cares for you.

he tells you to stop ogling at his pretty face and do the dishes, yet he never minds the attention at all. he tells you that you were a fool for accidentally getting yourself injured by eremites because you wanted to save some fungi, but follows you anyway and makes sure no one messes with you.

he says he probably wouldn't miss you while you're gone, but is always the first person you see when you return to sumeru city. it's these little things that make you love him, and you know the feeling is mutual—even if he'll act indifferent about it in the meantime.

“hey, kuni?”

wanderer's eyes are closed, serene. once he knew that you were not, in fact, going to break up with him, he relishes the feeling of his head resting on your lap. it was safe, warm, and everything to him; but he'd rather let the world burn before he tells you. “what?”

“thank you for letting me love you.”

....

“...idiot.” is all he says. you can feel him shift to the side so you won't see his face. “you don't have to thank me for that. that's so sappy...”

(and if you ever saw the slight sheen of glossiness in his eyes, you keep it to yourself.)

i should be thanking you. he thinks instead. i'm glad you love me.

so many things pop up in his head for this, so many unspoken words—and he may not be able to convey such things to you; he might never be able to, but you know that he loves, loves, and adores you.

because you accepted his past, his sins and his imperfections and treated him with tenderness and care. and you know that no matter how many sides of the wanderer you have yet to explore, you will love each one.

and that is enough for him to never let go.

a/n: IM CRYING I FINISHED THIS RIGHT ON TIME AFTER HIS EVENT and his growth has come so far,,, so proud of him 🥹

#mhie's spirals #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fanfic #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #genshin wanderer #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader

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