#...you can probably recall many memories of doing stupid kid stuff. a poor understanding of consequences mixed with high curiosity

[soupblr]

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[tookishcombeferre]

Klaus Fanfic: “A Tether”

I wrote a self indulgent thing for the Klaus 2019 fandom. Klaus is a Christmas movie. I’m trying to be sensitive and not post too much Christmas stuff.

But, I really like this movie, and it was an Oscar nom. The art is phenomenal, and I really like the characters.

That being said, obvs you don’t have to read it.

This is sort of a self projection fic? I wrote about Alva reflecting on the Spanish Flu of 1918 in a teacher’s point of view because I am burnt the fuck out.

“I haven’t heard from Jimmy Krum in 2 weeks. I’m worried. He said in his last letter that his family wasn’t doing well. He was trying to help his son apply for some kind of boarding school program in the city that I recommended last year.” Alva ran a hand across her face as she spoke to herself pacing across the floor of the post office attic. “Although, I can’t remember if he said they might wait until he turned 11 next year or not to send him out.”

“And you probably won’t hear from him until I can safely get out there again. I won’t let you go out. You’ve only just recovered.” Jesper opened the hatch to the attic and stuck his head through. “Go rest.”

“Jesper you know I can’t. I’ve been cooped up for so ...” Alva bit back a cough. “And you’re one to talk!”

“Nice save. Really, you are so convincing. I’ve been fever and cough free for a week. You on the other hand ...” He sat next to her, pulled her close, and kissed her temple. “Need to stop worrying. Everyone is fine. You sent enough homework with me to them, before we all boarded up, for two years. I promise.”

Alva sighed, and she supposed he was right. But, it didn’t stop her worrying. Despite the phone being a relatively old invention, most families in Smeerensberg didn’t own one. She couldn’t call and check in on kids the way she’d like to. Sure, some of the more well to do families had a phone, and she made good use of theirs to call those she could call. Jesper had to remind her to slow down often, especially in those first months of the pandemic, when they were still debating boarding up.

The town eventually chose to shut down after Jesper could no longer deliver the mail. He’d only stopped his deliveries when his own children got sick. This had been in late October.

The kids had gotten the flu, somehow, despite all their precautions. Then, for Alva, it seemed that everything really was over. She and Jesper were up at all hours of the night comforting their children. Alva had never seen Jesper cry so hard as she did when he thought he was alone on the phone with his own father. Jesper’s father was lucky enough to be spared the worst of the illness, and he was in sound enough headspace to listen to his son’s terrified sobbing for nearly an hour before Alva finally stepped in. She had listened to him cry begging for the illness to take him instead of his children, and Alva simply cried with him. There wasn’t much else they could do besides try to nurse their children as best they could and cling to one another in desperation.

In about two weeks, the children had recovered enough that they felt safe sending them to live with Espen Krum. Epen’s son had just recovered from the illness and war wounds, and Espen was more than happy to take in two young children that would cheer his son up for sure. Alva remembered how the thought of the two kids living there for awhile made Jesper smile. They both recalled how Jesper mailed the love letters back and forth between young Broderick Krum, the first toy recipient, and Greta Ellingbow during his time in The Great War.

Alva couldn’t help but be thankful that they’d sent the children away before they had the opportunity to see their father in the worst throws of the illness. Alva knew the illness preyed on healthy people almost more than those who had reasons for complications. She shuddered at the images of Jesper’s thrashing as he cried for his father, for her, and for Klaus. He begged her forgiveness as he sat trapped in the memory of all those Christmas Eve’s ago. She stayed with him as he begged Klaus’ understanding, promised he’d changed, and pleaded with her to still love him despite it all. Gone was the loving goofiness of the man who tucked their children in with jokes about stamps and letters. In its place, her strong husband shook with terror, and his fears of abandonment were laid bare before her. It was two weeks of caring for Jesper, and reassuring their children, before Jesper finally recovered enough for her to be satisfied.

It was only then, when she felt certain of his recovery, that her body finally succumbed to the illness. She had little recollection of the two weeks she was tended to by her husband, but he’d assured her that she hadn’t said anything too damning, and on the whole, she was more compliant than when she was healthy. He’d called the children faithfully each night, and he remained by her side all the other moments of the day. He rested with her, and he kept her cool. She still remembered just days ago, in the very first days of December, when she finally woke up and saw his face.

His eyes had sparkled with tears as he looked at her and whispered, “I knew you could do it.”

“Alva? Yoo-hoo?” Jesper waved a hand in front of her face.

Alva blinked herself back to the present moment.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about Lydia and Willem. It’ll be good to have the kids back before the holiday.” Alva leaned into Jesper’s shoulder.

He hummed his agreement. “Yes. Oh! Speaking of which. I have a surprise.”

Jesper helped his wife to her feet and guided her down the ladder and into their living room.

“Surprise!” He placed his chin on her shoulder. “I decorated it while you were sleeping.”

Alva smiled. It was far simpler than most years. The four stockings were hanging on the fire place. The tree was wrapped in a small amount of garland and maybe half of their ornaments were put up. She noticed the cookie plate already waiting with two glasses set out for the annual appearance.

Alva turned and stared at Jesper. “I sometimes wish he was still here. I have so many questions.”

Jesper hummed and pulled her close.

“As do I,” he said in a soft voice.

The two of them stood and surveyed the scene in silence for a few moments. Jesper placed his hands on Alva’s shoulders when they tensed suddenly.

“What is it? If you’re worried about Lydia, I just got word from Espen Krum that she’s had no complications. And, Willem has slept through the night soundly without bothering anybody for the last week.” Jesper reassured. “They’re doing fine. Also, we still do have a phone. I’ll let you pick 3 people to call as a treat. It is St. Nick’s Day after all.”

She blinked at him before face planting into his chest.

“I feel so useless.” She sobbed into his chest.

“Now, why would you think that? You’ve done so much for me, for the kids, and for your students. All through October, you taught every damn day, and made all those stupid work packets to last them until we could go back safe. You gave them book lists. You told them to call you if they had phones and were stuck. You even answered most calls until our own kids got sick. Alva,” he lifted her chin and kissed her forehead. “What more can you do?”

“I-I ... I don’t know.” She sobbed as she fell further into his chest. “I don’t know. But, it’s so hard. I can’t let it go back to the way it was before when the kids here could barely speak and poor Jimmy Krum was 13 and couldn’t write his own name. I can’t let that happen. What if they forget everything?”

“It won’t. You know why?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed her side to side. “Because, you’re the best damn teacher this place has ever seen. You took kids who could barely speak and taught them to be kind, to think for themselves, to report the misdeeds of their parents, and to stand up for themselves. So what, they forget how to write the letter “a?” Or so what, Heather’s daughter still mixes up 0 and 8 like her mom did on her return address most of the time she was a kid? Those are all things that can be retaught. But, you’ve got heart again, now. You’ll make it work.”

Alva felt a fresh wave of tears bring her to her knees. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just ... I want to stop worrying, but I can’t. I want it to be over, Jesper. I want it to be over. I’m so tired.”

“I know.” Jesper knelt next to her. “Do you want me to hold you or will that make it worse?”

“Hold me?” Alva reached out to him.

They sat there on the floor for a long time as Alva clung to Jesper and cried. Jesper just rubbed her back and told her it was going to be okay in the end, but he recognized that it sucked right now. He reminded her she had every right to be sad and stressed, and he let her cry. He told her that she’d carried the weight of their family and town for too long. She had laughed and said they both had, and they both cried. They cried because the house was empty of the two people they loved most apart from each other. They cried because they’d never had the chance to mourn the moment they each thought one almost lost the other.

For, they knew, they would fade into the dark abyss of depression without one acting as the rope to tether the other from being lost in the icy sea.

Eventually, they rose on creaking limbs to sit in their chairs by the window. The two of them cast long glances at the snow outside.

“Do you think he knows? Or will I have to tell him?” Jesper’s voice was quiet and somber, in ways it so rarely was. “I don’t want to tell him that I almost lost you.”

“I don’t know, Jesper. But, something tells me that, somehow, he knows.” Alva patted his hand.

He nodded. “I was thinking that next week I would send for the kids and reopen the post office. Mail for Klaus is likely pretty backed up.”

Alva hummed her acknowledgement. “I think that would be a wise idea. Thank you for waiting that long. I know it’s hard for you.”

“I just ... I’m nervous. But, not about being out there. I just ... I never want you out of my sight again.” He clasped her hand tightly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.” She kissed his cheek. “It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me.”

He laughed lightly despite everything. “Good thing I actually want you around then.”

He stood, and they held each other for a moment before sharing a chaste kiss.

The two of them walked to their room, and they nestled down together in each other’s embrace. Tomorrow would find them still snuggled together as the rays of dawn poked through the window.

*******************The End **************************

Some notes on my thoughts about the timeline of events leading up to this/other weird headcanons.

I kind of assumed the movie was set in late 1890ish (based on fashion and some of the tech people had - such as the type of boat, the lack of whaling, and the items on Father Johanssen’s desk - I thought I saw some kind of phone which would have put the film at at least 1876).

Also, women’s fraternities began forming in the late 1860s-1870s. Considering Alva is a graduate of a university of some sort, we can infer that she would have gone to school during a time in which it was at least somewhat more normal to see women being educated. My sorority was founded in 1870 and we’re one of the oldest.

I would assume Alva is about 23-25 during the film considering she probs would have graduated at like 20ish. I thought she said she’d been there for like 3 years or so. So, I kind of assumed she’d graduated in mid to late 1890s and took her job in 1895 (20) and 3 (23) years later wanted to head out.

I also head canon that Alva was a member of the Sami tribe and left on less than great terms to go to the city to be educated. This is why she took the job in Smeerensberg in the first place. The Sami are pretty isolated from the feud and don’t really seem to know about it (to our knowledge). So, it would make sense that she might want to come home and patch things up by teaching nearby. It would also help to explain why she speaks and is able to translate Sami.

The only thing that kills this theory is the lack of cars. I suppose, since, those were invented in 1886? But, cars didn’t fully replace horses until 1907. Also, I’m pretty sure Smeerensberg is exempt from the car rule anyway.

Based on my weird digging into accurate time frames for the movie, I assumed the first Christmas was around 1898. That being said this takes place approximately 20ish years after my thoughts on when the film took place. The fic is set during the height of the Spanish Flu of 1918.

Further timeline clarifications: Alva and Jesper dated for about 3 years. They were married in 1901 (26/29). They had their first child in 1905 (30/33), and they had their second in 1908 (32/35). Klaus died 1910 (34/37) (12 years after the first Christmas in 1898). The original children would be in their 20s-30s ish (I pegged most of them to be about 5 and the oldest at about 13). Therefore, some of the older ones have kids of their own. Jesper and Alva’s kids are 13 (Lydia) and 10(Willem). Alva is approx 43 and Jesper is 46.

[retphienix]

Usually I spend this final post talking at length about every part of the game, and sure this will be a lengthy post but honestly? This game gave me something to talk about at every turn. I've already said it all, and don't really see a reason in repeating myself here beyond summing things up.

The final boss was... fine.

Honestly that's about how I'd rank her. She was fine. Multiple forms, some deadly attacks. If this was any other RPG I'd say she was "fine", but it's worth mentioning that "fine" in FF8 is nearly god-tier because every encounter is usually utter garbage.

She even managed to kill me once because I got a bad trio and remained cocky, resulting in two dying and Squall (my third) sitting at 1000 HP using his Limit Break instead of healing.

I lost because of my ego on that one, but she gets the credit I suppose.

The story throughout was usually passable. I feel it was stronger at the start, was performed better towards the middle (with things like the garden battle and space scene which still ranks as my favorite moment in the game), and obviously dumb at the end because the weak plot points from the middle become the main emphasis.

It feels like some of the plot was left at first drafts or written by different people without consulting each other, and it's annoying to follow.

Like the GF memory issue brought up in the orphanage scene was, in my opinion, totally fine! It would have been MORE fine if it CONTINUED to be important to the story.

If GFs ended up being the reason Edea turned evil through brain rot, and the final boss ended up being the GF inside of her, I'd be saying the story was pretty decent to good!

Instead they latched onto possession which was unbelievably stupid and only made worse by saying it's not just possession, it's FUTURE possession.

At that it was still "passable, but disappointing" to me, because I much prefer expanding on the GF idea. But it just got worse!

All of a sudden the reason Ultimecia is doing this is revealed and it's just dumb.

Time Compression means nothing! It's a plot device with no form! It has no reasoning, it has no real world equivalent, it MEANS nothing and we're never given the slightest hint as to WHY she wants this or even WHAT this is.

If you would have said she was evil because evil is cool I'd be more forgiving, but this plot point and LITERAL GOAL of the antagonist means NOTHING.

The characters started out as cardboard and slowly became actual characters (with some exceptions who merely became decorated cardboard).

I started this game utterly amazed that such an unlikable character was made the main protagonist, but as it's wrapping up I must admit I like Squall and friends.

Squall explained why he was a little craphead and has begun (and in some cases succeeded in) growing out of it and becoming a better person who's willing to trust.

Rinoa becomes much more serious compared to her reveal in the plot and towards the end she's a key part in major plans necessary to defeat Ultimecia instead of just dipping her toe into making a change.

Irvine mostly just goes from acting like a playboy to fawning over Selphie. There's a little more to it, but not as much as I wanted from him.

Zell mostly just becomes a more emphasized version of himself, and that's fine too, but he's in the same boat as Irvine.

Selphie remains pretty much unchanged, but at least she gets a little backstory with Trabia in which I became curious if she's always been a beacon of optimism or if Trabia made her into one. Saaaame boat.

Quistis only gets any characterization at the very beginning with her getting fired from her position, and a small bit when her infatuation with Squall is explained to be a misinterpretation of forgotten emotions. She's "interesting", but she got the least out of everyone here. She's not only in the same boat as the majority of the main cast, she's captain of the sucker.

The characters are arguably the weakest part if you ignore the god-awful gameplay, but I ended up liking them more than this writeup implies.

I LIKE Squall and Rinoa and hope they enjoy each other's company.

I LIKE Irvine and Selphie for being who they are and wish the same.

I LIKE Zell as a character, and I WANT to know more about Quistis.

That's a pretty big difference from Disc 1 where I generally didn't like anything that was going on.

The gameplay is TRASH~~~~

I've said so many things on it, so I'll leave it at just this.

They innovated in a lot of ways. They added a lot of things. They tried to emphasize a feature that was extremely well received in 7 (summon animations) but they just messed everything up.

Features either ruin balance or ruin another feature. Half the features work against each other. Most of the features appear to have been developed in bubbles without knowing or testing with other features.

Some features exist for very specific reasons like enhancing world exploration, but they just don't work. (That being enemies leveling with you, as it unbalances literally every boss and it makes leveling in itself counter productive to getting stronger.) While others are solutions to non-problems, like replacing loot with draw spots (lowering the excitement value).

It's bad. Like really bad.

And if the best thing I can say about the gameplay is either "On paper it's interesting" or "You can skip most of it by using this broken feature to negate all the rest" or "Just throw Encounter-None on and never fight again", then I don't think I need to explain how bad it is.

As for the ending itself, my interpretation is pretty definite and good enough for me.

Squall gets lost in the compression and, as Ultimecia hinted towards, it begins to delete him from existence.

Earlier in the game they say the safest way to make it through the compression is to believe in each other and keep their bonds and relationships in mind at all times because they don't belong in that time so time will try to erase them if nothing IN that time is bound to them (so stand together or vanish apart).

Since Squall is bad at that kind of thing, he gets lost. When he gets lost he begins to doubt because he has a history of losing everyone around him, and when he doubts he begins to be deleted by time itself.

The memory loops and distortions are that process happening in his brain as it not only began because he failed to hold onto his friends, it makes it harder to rebound because it deletes all those memories in the first place.

Once it finally deletes his memories we get that meme'd up void face and he falls back and sheds a tear, a husk of a man. This is cemented by the feather he caught falling easily to the ground as if it had fallen straight through him.

Squall is gone.

Follow that by Rinoa refusing to give up and proving this is a two way street, just because Squall failed to believe in everyone strongly enough doesn't mean she can't do it for the both of them. She believes so hard he comes back, the end.

I gave it a less than serious tone towards the end there, but in all truth I'm serious in my interpretation.

Continuing beyond just Squall's freakout, I liked the ending. It suited the goals we all had and it showed some MUCH. NEEDED. CHARACTERIZATION- that would have been fantastic to experience in the core game! *cough*

They got to choose when they went back to, so Laguna chose to go back to marry Raine and lived up to this current time again?! THAT'S GOOD STUFF.

Irvine being Irvine in ways I WISH were in the main game because LOOK AT HIM. HE'S BEING A TOTAL DORK AND I LOVE HIM FOR IT.

Zell choking like the dork he is and then immediately starting a fight, just FANTASTIC stuff there that I wish there was more of.

Selphie and Quistis showing that they care about their friends through the traditional "Save you from choking and mock you for it" way.

Selphie even stole Irvine's hat. It wasn't much, but if she did more "silly" things like that we might have had an excuse to understand her more and get more character out of her. The most I recall is singing on trains and hijacking the Ragnarok, that’s not enough.

There are so many little good things in this game overshadowed by miles of poorly thought out mechanics and glossing over details in the story that shouldn't be, or deciding to follow through with unbelievably bad plot points.

I WANT this to be better because some of it IS good.

But I would be lying through my teeth if I said that all made up for the gameplay. The only reason I’m remotely singing these praises is because (ironically) it’s so broken you can ignore 90% of the gameplay and just play through the ridiculous story to find the good bits.

In the end though. I'm happy.

If you would have told me beating FF8 would make me happy as a kid, I'd have believed you because I liked it then.

If you would have told me this when I was wrapping up disc 1 I'd have called you a liar.

But here I am.

I'm happy with the end result, despite the poor turns the story took, despite the lack of sufficient characterization for the main cast, despite the TERRIBLE TERRIBLE gameplay, I'm content and happy with this.

And now I know so much about the inner workings of this piece of garbage that I could probably beat it in no time flat with almost no fighting outside of boss fights. lol.

[ikonislife]

The Same.

-Junhoe x Reader

-When Junhoe agrees to babysit his niece, he would never in a million years expect the little tyke to turn his life upside down in the most unexpected way possible.

-Fluff

-I notice there isn’t too many writing of iKon maknae line out. I really wanna change that because all 7 of them are so awesome. I don’t wanna get stuck on just doubleB, which I do notice most of my writing is for them. I hope to put out more of the other boys.

“Hello” 

“H-Hello?” The shaky voice spewing out from the speaker of your phone had your entire apartment halts in movement. It can’t be... Couldn’t be...

“Y/n?” Then it speaks up again, clearer this time, not a trace of hesitation in the way it so velvety wrapping your name in its soft tone. It was as though God had temporarily pressed pause on the movie that is your life. The TV was still blaring but falling on your deaf ears. The air sullen, sinking fast as cold wind rushing in from the seemingly warm spring day outside. Everything took on such a solemn note, almost peaceful. Your dog, Mattias, had stopped squirming around on the carpet, instead laying there with his legs up in the air gazing at you with inquisitive eyes. He must’ve heard it too.

“Jun..Junhoe?” You’re scare to speak up, to confirm that it is what you and your handsome boy, who was now moving on to licking his paws on the floor, heard.

“Yea, it’s me.” There it was again. Your brain still couldn’t register the familiar sound as anything but hallucination. It can’t be. You distinctively heard that annoying ringtone that you for the millionth time made a mental note to change but probably won’t.

“Uhm... Did you- I mean, hi.” Stuttering like a fool, you shut your eyes and grit your teeth in embarrassment even though he wasn’t there to see. The poor couch that had once hosted the owner of that voice during his many lazy day during his game session nearly break from you throwing your whole weight onto it out of utter mortification.

“Hi... I-I. I’m so sorry, Y/n. You know I wouldn’t call unless it was really dire.”

“It’s alright. What’s wrong?” 

It was so strange to hear him speak with no hidden sadness, not even a trace of bitterness lace in the soothing voice. For so long you had longed for him to sound out your name in the amicableness from before. Not the before of the weeks leading up to the painful break up. The before of playfully throwing veggies at each other while dinner bubbles away on the hot stove. Back when you cracking up in ribs splitting laughter whenever he does something completely stupid during your annual Y/n + Junhoe grand adventure. In those days where you could confidently claim you had him begging for in between lustful moans of the night. In the days where you were still his girlfriend. 

“I’m really panicking right now. Hani, my niece, I’m suppose to babysit her today and... God, Y/n. I don’t know what to do. I tried everything. I even freaking threaten to take her home if she don’t stop. I don’t know what else to do- I. Why did you made it look so easy when you babysat her. What do I do?” His voice wavers worse than a baby tree in a category 1 hurricane. He rans without even breathing and judging his heavy breaths, he must be really desperate.

“Slow down, Junhoe. Breathe. Listen to me. Breathe! It won’t do neither of you good if you pass out. Now, slowly, tell me what happened.” A few long breath could be heard huffing into the receiver end of his phone before a long sigh follows up with dead silent. You lean back in your chair, discomfort forcing its way out from how strange this all feel. 6 months, 6 months of nothing since the break up. He didn’t even grace you with the tiniest bit of salvation for your  aching heart even after you saw him arm in arm with the gorgeous cheery brunette that practically bounce her way down the busy street. 

“It started out so nice. We went to the park, we played, we watched movies. Then all of the sudden she won’t eat, she won’t play, she won’t listen to me. She just sat there and sulk. Then she threw a fit and spilled her lunch all over herself. I got irritated and she cry and now I wanna cry to and now she’s- She’s mad at me and I’m mad at her now too... and then...” The passion in his words dies out leaving you on the edge of your seat, anticipation coursing through your mind with all the worst scenarios. Above it all, why did he just call his girl. Why you.

“And then?” You whisper gently, careful not to shook anymore stress on the man that must be tearing his hair out by now.

“And then she, uh, she asked for you. She told me that it was all my fault you never come around anymore. You would know what she wants and all I do is just mess everything up. She’s crying so much that I don’t know what to do anymore, Y/n.”  The softness in his voice falters with the last syllable of your name. The before of sadness feigning its joyful counterpart of the break up week suddenly flood your mind with its present.

“I’m so sorry, Junhoe. I tried to explain to her that I had to leave...” You had always felt guilty for leaving everything in this wonderful part of your life you shared with him. Most of all, you felt the guilt of ruining the ultimate trust he gave you when he introduced his wonderful family to you.

“It’s not your fault. Kids, they just don’t understand breakups you know.” You cringe at the way the cursed word rolled off his tongue. Breakups. It’s such an ugly word to be tainting such a beautiful man with a kind heart and loving soul.

“Yea... I’m still sorry... for everything.”

“Thank you”

You both stay silent for how long, you didn’t really know. No doubts the rush of reminiscing, of running through all the wonderful memories you both made together also affected him because you could’ve sworn you heard that infectious chuckle of his. Somehow, somehow that made you smile even under all the tear you were shedding. 

“Did you want me to calm her down?” Deciding the silent was deafening enough, you speak up to clear the air. “Junnie? you there?” 

“uh, uhm, yea.” He cleared his throat, not a question in your mind that he caught himself on the endearing nickname you had always used. You on the other hand, hadn’t even caught it yourself. “Can I bring her over to your place? You still live in the same place right?”

“Yea, of course. You sure you don’t want me to come over there instead, easier?” You muse over his strange request seeing how it was much easier for one adult to make a trip rather than a 5 years old and a man child.

“I- I’m moving. Most my stuffs is already packed up so I figured it’d be easier over at a place with real household items.”

“Oh, I see. Why didn’t you just call your sister? Or your mom?”

“They’ve been so stress so I agree to help out... I don’t wanna be useless. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Just come over, you know your way. See you soon.”

“See you!”

30 minutes. 30 minutes it took you to realize what you had just agreed to. 30 minutes to realize the man you’re still hopelessly in love with that was no longer hopelessly in love with you was driving over with his 5 years old niece. 30 freaking minutes to realize you look like shit and your apartment even worse. 

“Shit. Why did I do this to myself” was the last thing you could utter before huffing away to a hot shower and a quick 10 minutes hair make up session. Praise the lord for the walk in closet because your mess of a room had just cleaned itself in the 2 revolution the long hand of the clock took. You had just thrown all the windows open when that familiar ding dong yanks your attention toward that white door. Your heart drums with all its might knowing just who stands just beyond that piece of wood. Nerve wrecks every cell in your body as you reach out to the cold piece of metal keeping you away from him. 

“Hey! Oh my God, Hani! Come here you little monkey!” 

“Auntie!!! YAY!” 

No sooner than the door slam into the wall with all the might a 5 years old could exerts, she was already in your arm clinging on like the monkey she is. 

“You’re so heavy now. I don’t think I can carry you anymore... Oh no, I’m gonna drop you!”

Loud shrieks tearing through the house luring a very exciting doggie charging toward the familiar laugh of the five years old. They were best buddies, inseparable since Hani was barely walking and Mattias was barely learning how to properly use his tiny puppy paws.

“MATTY!” She yelps for you to let go before the two of them dance happily in circle, whizzing away to your bedroom. Silent sinking over the warming apartment once again as you eye an awkward Junhoe standing there juggling with what you presume is Hani’s luggages. 

“Hey you!” You headed for a hug before crash and burn into that invisible wall of boundaries. Were your hugs still welcome? Would it makes him feel odd being pull into the arms of his ex?

“Hey. Sorry for barging in. I, you know I wouldn’t bother you unless I really needed to.” Tottering over, you couldn’t help but wince at the way his eyes tracing out the metal edges of your lock box, for certain recalling the many times exhilaration ran through his fingers as he type in the code to your place.

“Yea, it’s no problem. I miss her. Come on in...”

He shuffles in, shucking off his shoes and placing them where he had always for the past 3 years you had occupied this quaint apartment. You remember the day when you both finished putting the place together. He had so specifically left an empty spot just on the bottom shelf of your shoe rack. You tilted your head in confusion, wondering what his reasoning was. To which he simply said “What? I gotta leave my shoes somewhere...”. Needless to say it jolted his heart to see the spot remains empty. Staring about now, he’s drinking in as much of this familiar yet strange space that was once 2nd home.

“The lock... It’s the same code. I saw you staring.”

“Oh” A nervous chuckles adores you with its crisp sound. “I see.” 

“How’ve you been? how’s the girlfriend?” Bitter is all you can taste saying that word.

“I’m good. No girlfriend... You?” Bitter is all he could taste thinking about another man touching you.

“I’m okay... No boys, just Mattias over there. I saw you with that girl...” You feel disgusted with yourself for even prying so hard but you needed to know. You just want to feel that security of having him to yourself.

“Oh, just a friend. We were actually lost, the whole group got separated and yea, we didn’t wanna lose each other too. She’s not from around here and getting lost would be a big problem.” Your heart grin from hearing the perfectly logical explanation of why she was clinging onto him so tightly.

“Ah, I see.” he sways around a bit, awkwardly smiling at you.

“Should I give the little one a shower? You said she spilled lunch all over herself...” This was strange. Way to strange for your liking. There stand the man you had seen countless time trekking across this place butt naked with a bottle of water in his hand. Yet here he was, acting like he just entered a stranger’s home. It hurts.

“Yes, thank you. You know I was never good with this... you did most of it. I don’t know what I was thinking accepting to babysit.” Your voice cut his trance short as his soul nearly leaving his body. Holding out the two backpacks full of stuff, he smile awkwardly, not really sure where the lines were being drawn.

“It’s no problem. Just, you know where everything is... I’ll be back.”

He watches as you disappear into that room, that sacred place of love, of lust, and of the life he misses so dearly. He’s scare, terrify in fact to peer through the door once again fearing he might find things he wouldn’t like. Things that remind him you’ve moved on. So he settles on the couch, listening to the loud giggles emanating from the bathroom. The golden rays dance on his skin just the same as it had many afternoons before watching you cook from this very couch. As if sensing his memory lane, Mattias had taken upon himself to crawl right next to his other master that he loves so much but haven’t seen in a long time. If he could speak, you were sure the pup would throw an even bigger fit than Hani.

“Auntie can we go get ice cream later?” The little tyke hopping excitingly in one place, sprinkling little droplets of water all over your floor.

“Yes, if you eat lunch and take a nap and listen to your uncle.” Wrapping her in a big towel, you dried her off before pulling on the small PJ with bunnies print you had gotten for her birthday not too long ago.

“Okay. I feel bad for making uncle sad. I didn’t mean to cry but I miss you. Uncle wouldn’t let me call you so I cried.” Her eyes reddening from the overrunning guilt. You couldn’t help but feel your heart cracking a bit further knowing this was half your fault. You knew you had to cut off all contact for Junhoe’s sake, for your sake. Never once during the breakup did you both consider the collateral damage and casualties you’d both leave in the wake of the separation. 

“It’s okay. He thought I was busy so he said that. Next time, how about I call you first??” You coo, pulling the sadden girl into your arms.

“Yea! I miss Matty too.” 

“We can take him to the doggie park later too. If your uncle says okay.” You force a smile for the kid but deep down, this was all too close to heart for your own comfort.

“Auntie... I know you and uncle doesn’t love each other anymore. It’s okay if you don’t want to see me. I just miss you, he misses you too. We just wanna see you. I know it makes you sad to see uncle. He’s very sad too. I saw him crying when he saw me looking at your pictures on the computer.” You were in the process of getting lunch ready but now, now you found yourself standing there like a statue being rain on. You hadn’t cry about Junhoe in so long. You thought you couldn’t anymore but little Hani’s honest words... They cut deep. So instead, you drop to your knee and let the little one hold you close, petting your hair as you shed your tear.

“Hani, I love you uncle very much. I miss him too. It’s just sometimes, sometimes adults have to do things they don’t like for the people they love. Sometimes we have to say goodbye but that doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. Doesn’t mean I don’t wanna see you. I wanna see you everyday. Matty wanna see you everyday. Next time just tell your uncle to call me, okay?” You smile to calm the little one down.

“You swear?”

“Pinky swear. Now let’s get you lunch and nap.”

Hand in hand, you both turn to walk toward the bedroom door when you could’ve sworn you just miss the blur of the tousle of black hair rushing away from the door. Pushing it to your weary mind playing trick, you both skip happily to lunch time. 

Your kitchen hadn’t had this much laughter since, well since before the breakup. Lunch came and go in a flash and you were now tucking the little one tightly under your blanket. She smile cheekily before planting a big kiss on your cheeks, whispering sleepily to not tell her uncle. 

Sauntering back to the living room now, you wonder where the dog and his master had gone in the 2 hours it took for Hani to finally tuckered out. You let our eyes wander not even a minute when they land upon the sweet sight of Junhoe’s large body cuddling up a sprawl out Mattias. The dog had him whipped since the first day you both adopted him from the rescue. Always napping together, could never got himself to put the four legged son in time out. Junhoe tightly shut eyes wincing a bit when Mattias stretches himself, kicking and whining in his dream. This is the sight you had always come to associate this place with, your life with. Who would’ve thought in such a short time, you’d lose all the hope and dream of a fun filled future with the sleepy man before you. Settling down just beside the boys on the floor, you reach out to scratch Mattias’s belly before hovering above Junhoe’s dark locks. He loves getting a good scalp massage to fall asleep to and you honestly love giving him one. You stare for a moment before the sinful lull of selfishness taken over. Dropping your fingers onto his fringe, you sweep the soft strands out of his forehead, lingering on his soft skin, basking in the cologne that still remains the same after 6 years of being together.

You could feel his eyes stirring a bit, life returning to his sleepy gaze as you shoot away toward the kitchen.

“Hey, where’s Hani?”

Damn that husky voice. Junhoe possesses the voice of angels, so delightful and sweet. When he sings, you could feel your heart skip several beats from how beautiful he is. But then there was the gruff in his voice when he just waking up, so low and so rough that it got you lost in him.

“She’s sleeping, probably 10 minutes now. You want lunch? I can reheat some stuff for you...” You avert your gaze, hand wiping the same spot for the 5th time in the past few minutes.

“I’m okay.” You could see him glancing around, taking note of the changes with a few nods of his head. “Everything is pretty much the same here...”

“Not everything. Lots of things changed.” You rush out the answer, hoping he hadn’t heard it.

“Yea it is. You extensive mug collection is still on the cabinet that’s way too high for you to reach. The bowls and plates still in the left bottom cabinet. You even organize your fridge in the same way. Matty’s bed is still in the corner next to the sliding door. I haven’t seen your room yet but I’m sure it’s the same.” He lists with a slight chuckle with all the intention in the world to lighten to mood.

“I moved the utensil drawer. It’s above the bowls and plates now. Made more sense that way. You grab your utensils then you grab your food holders. I don’t leave my water in the fridge door anymore, I got a big water cooler now. Easier that way.” You were feeling your tear creeping up on you, wiping that spot for the 10th time. “I can’t cook dinner for two anymore. It took me 3 months to even remember not to buy two serving of everything. Veggies don’t fly in the kitchen anymore, they’re just boring old veggies that lay around where you put them down. I don’t come home to your voice singing out my name anymore. I can’t jump into your arm. I can’t kiss you. I can’t cuddle you on rainy day. You don’t make me tea anymore. They’re all still there you know. You never took your tea collection when you left. I-I can’t go to bed expecting the sheet and cover already warmed up. I don’t have to complain about you leaving your products all over the bathroom sink. I guess that’s one good thing. I can’t take care of you when you’re sick and gross and icky. I don’t travel anymore. I don’t go get a salt and butter donut then a coffee every Sunday morning anymore. I’m not yours... And I can’t call you mine... So please tell me, Junnie, in what world is everything “the same””. 

You spin around briskly, throwing the towel onto the floor throwing your hands up in an air quotation mark in snide. You can’t bother hiding the tear anymore. All your emotion of 6 months of constant suppressing exploded. He stood there wide eyes but already lunging forward to pull you into his chest. 

“Damn it, Junhoe. Why did we even break up in the first place?” You sob into his chest feeling the knots in your hair loosen with each pass of his fingers. You feel all the frustration of going against the grain of life seeping out.

“Because we weren’t going anywhere... remember? We got stuck in this routine life that was just stomping in one place. I was struggling to move up in the world and you, you weren’t getting any warmer with the idea of settling down and getting marry. But I have a feeling you’re not asking for the reason...” He coos so tenderly the painful reminder of why you were sleeping alone every night.

“No... Why did it all seemed so complicated back then...Why did we agree to this shitty lonely life.” Your arms tighten around his body, squeezing out all the darkness as he chuckles.

“Because we were dumb and young.”

“We’re still the same age now as when we parted you freak!” He laughs at the seemingly ease you could crack a comeback even when you’re ugly crying.

“Fine. Because we’re a bit wiser now than we were before. We’ve been together for so long and I think we just needed a reminder of what it feels like to be on our own. Honestly, I hated every single second of the past 6 months. I knew it was mutual and I have no right but God, I got so angry when I saw your Instagram that you were getting tea with that guy from your work. Tea is my thing. You were only suppose to drink the one I pick. Then I laughed because there I was, getting angry over tea. But you know what? I realized i miss you so damn much.”

You nearly choke on that sentence. You wanted so badly to come home to that sentence but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for it. Not when you both decided to part way. His lips find themselves resting on your damp cheek as he whispers “i miss you” over and over until you dug your face so far into the crook of his neck the kisses couldn’t reach you anymore.

“I knew I said we always do the same thing and it got so abhorrently boring but I miss it. I would sell my soul to have those “boring” date back. I knew it was just a fluke this morning when you called me Junnie over the phone but it had my heart doing flips and my stomach sick with butterflies. Then earlier when you told Hani you miss me, I’m surprise I had enough self control not to kiss your lips off then and there.” 

You sob out a laugh from the sweet words of your sassy man and he returns the same. You both stood there for so long just looking at the familiarities of each other and how they’re all suddenly seems to be glowing with all the lights of the stars above. His hands move to cup your cheeks gingerly to which you respond with the flutter shut of your eyes. Then you feel the intense heat of summer spreading from his soft lips. It breaches the barrier with the thrust of his tongue greeting yours. It burns down your throat as he moans into you, satisfies with your welcoming touches. Searing down your chest, your heart works itself into a stupor, drugging all your veins with love as you clutch onto the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Finally your spent lungs gave out from the intensity of its all with a heavy pant.

“Please tell me we’ll get back together after this because if not, this would all be soooo embarrassing. Also, I’d really like it if you help me move. It’s been hell doing it myself.” He retorts, eyes gloss over with every drip of love he could offer despite the cheeky remarks.

“Yes, weirdo. I mean, who’s gonna fill that empty spot on my shoe rack. I guess I should also pay you back for moving me into this place.” a soft thud of your fist playfully tickles his chest as a much crisper laugh tears through your apartment. You didn’t wanna leave his arms and it seems he has no problem with it. You stay there in the kitchen that held so much memory and surely host of new ones. Your arms tight around him as you rest on his strong stature. He presses kisses here and there, relaying how much he needs you close. Once the tiredness settled into your legs, you drag him over to the couch surprising a still sleeping Mattias awake. He gladly gives up part of the couch for you to fall onto with Junhoe flushing tight against your back.

“You know earlier, when you were struggling with 2 backpacks and a fussy Hani, you really looked like a real dad. Kinda cute.” 

“Yea? Does it uh, does it makes you feel a certain way...?” He winks teasingly, words playful as he presses a kiss onto your lips.

“I don’t know. Should I be? Why don’t you enlighten me.” You refuse to relent to his mischievous words.

“If I look like a dad and you think it’s cute... Doesn’t it incite a motherly feeling in you? I mean, you look like a fearless mom that could handle a zombie apocalypse earlier laying down the law with Hani. I’m not saying you have to feel motherly any time soon... Just you know, eventually.” Hope glints gleefully in his eyes as he not so inconspicuously letting his finger rubs your own very specific one.

“Koo Junhoe, isn’t there something you need to ask me first before I should be feeling motherly?” You retort, flicking his forehead, watching him wincing in pain.

“Let me worry about that part, okay babe? I promise you, I’ll be here for the rest of your life. I will never, ever leave again.” Clutching onto your hands tightly, he let his heart speaks knowing he’s in a good place from here on out.

“I love you, Junnie.”

“I love you, baby.”

You both remain silent, basking in the peacefulness of a revived love. You spend your time staring at him, letting your fingers relearn all the dips and curve of Junhoe. He did the same, index running along your nose ridge, brushing your hair out of your face, poking your cheeks. Nothing but small giggles and kisses could be heard for the next hour until the gentle voice of a very sleepy Hani burst your bubble.

“Does this mean I get to sleep over whenever I want to again?”

Junhoe breaks into a laugh as you motion for the little one to come over. She jumps right in and wiggles herself neatly in the crack between yours and his body. She calls for Mattias as the happy pup wagging his tail your way, settling just beneath your feet continuing to snooze away. Her eyes close once again as you press a soft kiss on her hair, Junhoe doing the same.  He whispers to a giddy Hani before beaming brightly at you.

“Yes, kid. It does.” 

[guardiandae]

You know you are an adult when you get excited about buying a vaccuum cleaner... lmao. 

but in my defense, the vacuums today, even the cheap ones, are so much cooler than the shitty ones back in the day. also I would like my floor to finally be clean and my mom keeps going, “vacuums are so expensive” bitch I just spent $20 on a vaccuum it’s not hard.

ANYWAY here’s my life update:

got my hair cut, finally. It looks so much better now. no more staring at crazy split ends all day.

I found a quiz site, WHOOPS, and I’ve been quizzing myself for like a week now on African countries and now island countries because I realized I don’t know them. I don’t think they’re all sticking but my brain has been going, MOZAMBIQUE. DJIBOUTI. every day. So I now know recall MORE countries than I used to. It fuels my obsession for puzzle games + I’m learning, so. This is a step up from mind-numbing griddlers, at least.

I’m also reading A Song of Ice and Fire... it’s stupid how, for the longest time I was super intimidated by the idea of getting into these books, knowing how thick they are, how many there are in the series, and how many CHARACTERS there are to follow. I remember when I first started watching the show, I was super overwhelmed by the characters being introduced. Particularly when the Red Woman came onto the scene I was like, “The fuck is happening now??” And maybe watching the show first helped a lot with that, but like, I was really suspicious when I first cracked open a book and was like... “Is this the novel or just a screenplay???” I remember having to read so many books that were written with excruciatingly BORING detail, or such lovingly rendered descriptions of background scenery or pure daydreams that had nothing to do with the plot, that I’d get totally bogged down in the purple prose and lose track of what the hell was going on. That’s one of my biggest pet peeves of writing to this very day. But GRRM doesn’t do that, not even remotely. I thought that my writing was really simple, but GRRM’s might be even more spartan. But that only makes sense to keep it succinct and move along quickly when he’s laying out this whole huge world with several kingdoms and houses that all have their own unique cultures and beliefs and at least a dozen different major characters whose stories need to be told. I’m totally enchanted. and the FORESHADOWING, HOLY FUCK. The foreshadowing is intense, I’m kind of glad in a way that I already know what’s to come because it’s literally like the way I wrote Distance, where after you know the ending, there are so many things that take on a different light that I would’ve never even noticed, seriously. I posted them on twitter but I should maybe make posts here because AAAAGGGGGGHHH!!!!

I’m also starting to read up on beekeeping... I’ve been interested in it for a while mostly in the sense that I appreciate beekeeping (see beekeeper mumen for example) but the spring seeds came in and I was like, I want bee-friendly flowers, and then that led to, WHAT IF I BEES? and I’m the sort of person that... I had to RESTRAIN MYSELF from buying a beekeeping starting kit (BECAUSE I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT TO DO WITH 3LBS OF LIVE BEES.. @MYSELF: DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE BUY BEES ONLINE JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN) and yeah like so anyway now I’m reading about bees and even if I decide it’s not for me (tbh I’d probably be like, “YEAH BEES” until I got to the point of trying to set up an actual fucking hive of bees and then scream and run away because BEES? and also bc I’m an idiot that thinks everything sounds awesome in theory until real life happens. BUT WHO KNOWS MAYBE I’D LIKE IT???) but anyway EVEN IF I DECIDE AGAINST THE IDEA at least I’ll have learned some stuff?

oh yeah btw I slammed the button and ordered that pricey fitbit fitness tracking watch and I really like it. I’m kind of gradually easing into more and more fitness? which feels like a “I’m being lazy” thing but honestly maybe that’s a better approach, to build up habits over time instead of overloading myself with extreme changes and then going “nope”? Basically I’ve been learning that exercise can be hella fun, experimenting with different exercises that I like and also experimenting with healthier foods to bring into my diet. btw if anyone told me a few years ago that today I’d be buying almond milk, coconut oil, organic food, and yelling, “HOW MANY CALORIES?! FUCK THAT” in the middle of the grocery store at my ex-favorite foods, I probably would’ve decked them.

alsooooo so I can’t remember if I posted about this but I know I told a few people that I studied the gay aesthetic™ hard and took notes (I wish I was fucking kidding, I literally gotta study this shit I don’t understand social things and fashions) and decided to expand my wardrobe accordingly. I’m feeling out what works and does not, and today I was FEELING IT when I got myself in the mirror. it’s that men’s pocket undershirt, I fucking swear, and I have had that all along but I never wore them by themselves I always wore them to work under my stupid work uniform. WELL NOW I’VE SEEN THE LIGHT. plus my ace ring and bracelets were good choices. today I bought better shoes as well, and dodged a bullet because like... ugh I have the worst instincts and at first I almost got these tall zippered ladies boots that were on sale like... yes they were a squeeze but??? but I was like... I think they make my legs look stubby plus the store was closing so I was like, TOO INDECISIVE FOR THIS. I ended up getting a pair of skateboard shoes on clearance and also some nice looking men’s boots instead and it cost me the same it would’ve for that one pair of boots plus get this while I was leaving the store I saw this Incredibly Straight Woman walking in with the tall zippered boots and I was like, THANK GOD I DIDN’T and then I saw ANOTHER Incredibly Straight Woman with the same boots and I was like TODAY I HAVE BEEN SPARED A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH. Like yeah gay girls can pull that off too yes but 1. not me. I’d have to get skinny jeans or leggings for that look and it’s so not me I can’t, I don’t know why the fuck I tried to go down that path 2. those tall boots weren’t even the original Aesthetic™ that I had studied for, like, I suck so bad, someone dress me bc I make bad life choices. 

but yeah, I bought two new pairs of shoes, I bought a grey shirt bc I observed that the holy grail of casual gay girls was just a plain grey shirt (much like the unrealized glory of my pocket shirts... but grey guys... I love grey...) I hope it’s a good choice tho bc you know, some cuts look great and some are like... the fuck. a VACUUM CLEANER?? ADULTING WIN?? some nice FOOD STUFFS???? lettuce-y things, even????

so now I need to do some things that I’ve been putting off..

-do my taxes (I’ve been raring to but my internet was too slow..) -pay rent -call my bank -find a local doctor -book an eye appointment -schedule a permit test -clean my fucking maybe?? that;’d be nice??? 

-maybe part with some of these clothes that just give me bad memories now... I still have so much stuff from high school and stuff that I don’t wear and stuff that I’m like ‘will I ever fit into this again’ and it’s like... like seriously for YEARS  I did not buy myself a new WARDROBE I had like enough clothes that would fit and so many old ones like, I was punishing myself for gaining so much weight and seriously it didn’t help me at all it felt so much better to just go ahead and get clothes that fit me and half of my problem is I’m poor af so I’m like, ‘but I spent money on this’ and I don’t wanna throw it out but now I think I’ll be happy when I get rid of these big clothes when they, hopefully, no longer fit me in the near future, so like... I should just toss these old bad-memories-clothes and burn them, seriously... @ me I’m talking to you asshole, burn the rags. clean your room, clean our your wardrobe, and cleanse it with fire.