#and i've always wanted to be a published writer
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Is it due to a generation of people doing NaNoWriMo? Or simply the dying off of print magazines?
(Literary magazines in particular)
...Thanks to occasionally checking out book review videos on YouTube, and also "Popcorn Watching" videos over the drama of NaNoWriMo and AI this year, YouTube's recommendation feed for me is full of "tips for being a better writer" channels.
And a lot of the tips are good, solid, advice (my favorite so far is: "Write when you're happy. Edit when you're mad"). It's just that...
*sigh*
All of the advice I've seen is for "How to Write Your Novel"
But what if you want (as I do) to write better Short Stories?
My parents were long-time subscribers to The New Yorker, which always had at least one fiction short story in every weekly issue -- after the cartoons, they were my favorite parts. We also had a subscription to The Atlantic, which also published short stories (though not as frequently). When I was in college, I'd buy single issues of Omni, again, for the short stories.
Short stories are their own, little jewels, of an art form. But they don't seem to get any respect.
Is it because magazine reading isn't as much of a cultural norm, anymore? And people aren't as used to seeing fiction and nonfiction side by side? And when people think "Fiction," they default to thinking that only novels (and multi-novel series) "count"?
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sometimes i need to sit myself down, take a deep breath and remind myself that actually, i am still really fucking young
#💌 personal#idk#i just work on a lot of original writing projects#and i've always wanted to be a published writer#and i often struggle with the fact that in the grand scheme of things. i haven't written that much#for some reason my brain tries to convince me that i should've finished at least a few whole books by now#which i KNOW is stupid lmao#it's hard to write consistently when you have adhd#but i've slowly been making progress towards that#this year and last#finding solutions that work for me#but sometimes i feel like i shouldn't even try if it's still so hard for me to actually accomplish anything#but im only 21!!!! i have soo much time it's ridiculous to expect gods know what from myself
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Ever since I was in grade school, my dream was to be a published author. I engrossed myself in the fantasy section of my school's library, absorbing all the stories I could find. Those years spent reading other people's work sparked a love of storytelling in me. I wanted to tell my own stories, I wanted to write and see what I could bring to the table. I wanted to reach the same heights as the authors I revered.
I love telling stories, even if I wasn't always good at it. I remember making a promise to myself and my family - I would write a book one day. I must've been 10 years old at the time. I know it's not a very lofty goal, but it's something that's kept me going.
I've spent the last decade slowly refining my writing skills. I've experimented with genres, I've written dozens of characters. Hell, I've even scrapped entire projects before. The road has felt borderline endless, and...I'll admit, I don't really feel any closer to my goal.
I've abandoned at least three previous projects because I felt little to no passion for them. Most of you probably don't even know about my earlier work because it was so long ago. I was 16 when I started this blog, I've had years to think about what I wanted to write and the kind of stories I want to tell, and none of those original projects ever stayed with me. It honestly started to feel like I'd never accomplish that goal.
I'm 21 now. I'm young, I've got my whole life to tell a story. And...I think Willow Springs might just be the story I tell. I pulled from a lot of my own childhood experiences while working on this project. There's a lot of nostalgia in Willow Springs and I really want to see this project through to the end.
I hope I can publish it one day. And I hope y'all want to see it to the end, too.
I know it's pretty weird to get this philosophical about a project I've only just revealed to the public, but it's something I've had in the back of my mind for a few months, now.
#Willow Springs#original writing#writers on tumblr#was thinking about my lifelong dream and got a little weird with it#I've always wanted to tell my own stories#even if I don't know the first thing about writing or publishing a book#Regardless#I hope its something I can achieve one day
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i really need to get back into the concept of being allowed to write something with zero intent of publishing so i can be as cringey as i want with it
#its always been a concept i've struggled with#like i basically rewrote the entirety of the toaru universe and it took forever for me to produce something i liked#BUT IT DIDN'T MATTER BC I WASNT GONNA PUBLISH#and now i have this rly cool but kinda niche canonverse idea#and the only thing stopping me from writing is it being afraid that it'll be cringey#when it literally doesn't matter#i hate being a writer i want a refund#kat rambles
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Got into my last classes I needed AND got TWO internships for this upcoming semester - one doing editing and marketing for an indie kid's book press, and one setting up an international publishing conference. Like it's actually happening. My dream since I was like 10 is coming true for real?
#ive always wanted to be a writer and open my own indie publishing house and now Im actually making advancements#and Im learning the things I'll need to know to do that???#and my own internship mentor said she's really interested in helping me make connections in the industry so I could very well be employed#in my dream field by the end of this year#and then I'll get to decorate my apartment how I like and buy a cat and live my dream as an editor/writer in chicago like I've always wanted
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i can't get excited about welcome home anymore because we've spent years (decades???) spitting at the mention of anne rice and her litigious ass trying to dictate what fans can do with canon but now the welcome home creator is out here saying they may not "allow" explicit fanworks, and fans on the reddit are agreeing and calling people who make the explicit fanworks freaks, degenerates, and perverts. i just am not interested in engaging with media like this
#it's a horror story! it's not for kids! why are we doing this!!!!#far be it for me to say that the t*a team had good ideas#but the 'do not arch*ve' thing is just. the best way for creators to go about this that i've seen personally#but also if you're a creator on the internet?? you have to make your peace with this????#people react to things in a wide variety of ways and 'horny' is one of them. that's not bad that's not good that just Is#i'm a writer and i know that your characters/story are your babies but once you put it out there#the version of them in other people's heads -- that you've put there! -- are not your own#it really doesn't matter if you're not comfortable with what people do with them. it's not your business anymore.#i've always been in the 'i hope fic writers get super fucked up with my stories if i get published' camp so i don't know where#these people are coming from emotionally#but come on. come ON. you want to be another anne rice? you really want that???#ugh. clown behavior. literallly#mythtakes
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I Want You to Stay (14) - FINALE (JJK)
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; arts, business/property devt, and book publishing talk that’s probably inaccurate; mentions of trauma & family drama; lots of fluff; explicit sexual content (lots of making out, oral (m & f receiving), body praise, un/protected sex) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 32.8k
Series Masterlist
Status: Complete
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
A/N: And then it ends! Please bear with the length of this final chapter - it felt right to finish the series with all this 🤭 This was so satisfying to write despite the emotional roller coaster, and I just want to thank you for sticking with me through this and showing me/it so much love. It's a fanfic writer bucket list of mine to write boss JK! I hope you enjoy! 🥰 Like I've said before, I have plans for season 2, but I don't know if I'll actually be able to write it so 🤞🏽
And like always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight for listening to me talk about this for months. 💕
##
Your heavy eyes flutter open before they close again, and for the briefest moment, you think you see Jungkook smiling at you, his doe eyes gazing at your sleeping form. You do it again, and right after your eyes fall shut, you feel soft lips on your bare shoulder, his warm breath heating your shivering body.
His absence causes you to quiver, but you’re too tired to move. Even if you weren’t, you probably wouldn’t be able to pull the covers over you, not when you have the said man leaving kisses down your spine and then back up to peck on your exposed cheek. Yet no matter how tempting it is to return them, your mind decides it just needs a bit more time to wake up, and so does your sore body that feels like it ran a marathon that you just weren’t trained for.
Because much as you took on Jungkook’s challenge last night about being able to have sex all night, as it turns out, you’re the one who couldn’t do it.
He first had you on top of him, kneading your ass and directing your movements while he pounded on you from below. The way he felt from that angle had your stomach in knots, and when he wrapped his arms around you to keep you steady while he tried to go deeper as he sucked and licked your neck, you were a goner.
You were on your back before you knew it. And while he aided you in coming down from your high through languid kisses and licks on your mouth, it wasn’t long before he had you keening again. His tongue lapped up your folds and swirled around your sensitive nub, and despite your mind feeling numb by then, your cunt throbbed for him. It wasn’t long before he was inside you again, thrusting into you fervently before slowing the pace and taking you more gently.
The way he grunted as you whispered for him to come suddenly rings in your mind. Coupled with his morning kisses all over your body, you moan in pleasure, and he hasn’t even done much yet.
Perhaps it’s also because of these luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets that are making you feel like you’re in heaven. Or the fact that they smell so good, too, like fresh laundry but more delicate, and all you want is to drown in this softness. So you do something close and bury your face on the pillow while you remain flat on your belly. You take a deep breath and release it with another moan.
“Sounds like someone slept well, huh?” You hear him chuckle, his mouth now detaching from your skin.
“You tired me out, Jungkook,” you hum, your eyes still closed as you bask in the comfort of his bed. “Why are you even awake?”
“Because I always wake up early. And it’s past 10,” he reasons. “I went for a run then hit the gym. I figured you’d be awake by now and well… you aren’t.”
“I—”
Your mind slightly catches some life as you hear that he’d just done a workout, so you take a peak and the sight doesn’t disappoint. He stands by the bedside with only his track pants on, his hands in his pockets with damp hair while he looks on as you slowly twist and turn on the bed.
“I—” you repeat.
“You don’t have to get up if you don’t want to. I’m sorry I woke you,” he says softly.
You catch on to his apologetic tone and it’s what forces you awake. You know he’s used to starting his day early and you… you’re used to burying yourself in your bed until you have to get up to eat. Having someone to spend your days with is probably something you’re both gonna have to start getting used to.
Your eyes finally open and stay that way, and despite his sweat having dried already, Jungkook still looks like he’s glowing against the late morning sun that’s shining through his bedroom window. You shift yourself and sit up, suddenly hyper aware of how naked you are… in his bedroom, and for a brief moment, you think it was all in your head.
With the sheets finally covering your body, you look at him, prompting him to sit on the edge of the bed and smile at you. You take his hand and caress the fingers that held you, that gave you pleasure, that traced patterns on your skin that you feel are now etched in its memory.
“Last night wasn’t a dream,” you utter, as if proclaiming it to the universe, as if claiming this reality for yourself.
“It better not be,” he laughs, softening when you do. “You, uh, you found me.”
“Well, you did tell me where to go,” you point out.
“Yes, unlike you,” he counters, recalling how your letter had just told him to find you with no instructions of where.
Your pout makes him laugh and it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard, one you didn’t know when you’d hear again. But you give him a pass because he’s right, and all you want to do is make it up to him for making these past few weeks quite unbearable.
But he gets to you first, as he kisses your cheek. There’s adoration mixed with shyness in his eyes and tenderness with his every touch. You wouldn’t say it’s something you didn’t expect despite his usual detachment, but it strikes you just how much of this softness has been hiding underneath. You’ve seen him be protective of you and be caring, but this side of him is new. You suppose being mellow and giggly comes naturally once he’s allowed himself to be vulnerable and open up. Maybe it’s also just a result of last night’s events.
He removes the strands of your hair that had stuck to your face, and it dawns on you again that it’s morning and you had indeed just woken up. You whine that you’ve got crusty eyes and morning breath so you create some distance, but he just laughs and says he doesn’t care one bit.
“You’re pretty even in the morning,” he adds.
Jungkook watches you nibble your lips as you try to suppress a smile that you make anyway. When you’re bold about what you want from him, something inside him stirs, a certain kind of desire that explodes because he wants to fulfill your need, to make you feel good, to let you know that you affect him the same way.
But when you’re shy the way you are right now, as if you’re still trying to wrap your head around your new reality with him, giggling and grinning like a schoolgirl with a crush, he wants to just hold you in his arms and keep you there. Something softens in him because you - strong and stubborn you - gets flustered because of him. The competent and confident woman he knows suddenly doesn’t know what to say when he calls her pretty, which he’s glad he’s able to verbalize now. It used to be a thought that just constantly rang in his head, but one he tried so hard to quell. He gets to say it to you with confidence from now on and he’ll be able to say it everyday.
Once your face settles with a comfortable smile, he sighs in contentment, once again feeling like that dark cloud that hovered over him for years has gone away. Things used to feel so heavy as he wandered around an unknown place he's been in for so long, not knowing where to go. It’s as if the days just passed him by and he’d forgotten how he spent them because there wasn’t really much that he looked forward to.
Now he does, and he realized it when he woke up this morning and found you lying next to him. You were in deep sleep with your lips just slightly parted. Your hands were curled under your chin as you laid on your side, and there was this calmness on your face that gave him so much relief.
He felt light; he felt the darkness subside, too, and the unknown place he’d been wandering about suddenly looked familiar, yet it was still somehow new. There was that feeling of safety, of clarity, like he could do or be anything with you around. Those were things you gave him when you were still his assistant, and he gets to feel them again now that you’re so much more than that.
“What?” You ask, nudging him with your foot as he briefly zones out just thinking about all the things he wants to do with you.
“I was just savoring the look of you being flattered,” he hums. “It’s kinda cute.”
“Oh shush,” you laugh. “I’m just not used to it.”
“Well, it’s not like I could just say you’ll looked pretty when I was still your boss,” he points out.
“True,” you nod. “Good thing you aren’t anymore, then.”
“Exactly. So you’re just gonna have to get used to it.”
He looks at you as if it’s a warning, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.
“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you whisper to tease.
“Fuck,” he groans. “I want to kiss you right now.”
“Don’t tell me that turned you on!” You gasp, giggling now as he shakes his head.
“Only if you say it like that!” He whines, the sultry tone of your voice echoing in his ears. “You know what, I’m gonna take a shower.”
“And I’m gonna brush my teeth so you can kiss me all you want!”
“I’m gonna have to get used to that, too,” he smiles.
“Well, it’s not like I could say that to you when I was still your assistant,” you repeat his words.
“And good thing you aren’t anymore, Ms. Cho,” he laughs, not wanting to get carried away right now.
You laugh as well before he leaves to take a shower. You give yourself this quiet time on your own to process where you are at this moment. You’re in a room you used to enter everyday, and your mere glances made you curious about what Jungkook kept in his personal space.
You’re here now, and you see that there’s really not much, other than a floor-to-ceiling window, a television, a bar cart, and a couch. He’s got an interesting light fixture and abstract art on the wall. His decorative pieces consist of small sculptures and framed buildings, but there are no photos or other mementos. You suppose he’s not really the type, and that just makes you hope that you can help him add a bit of personal touch so that his room could feel more comfortable, or maybe add a bit of warmth to an otherwise cold, monochromati space. You decide that’s something you’ll eventually figure out.
You take your phone from the bedside and finally reply to your mom and your friends with more details about last night. You merely told them that you and Jungkook have made up, but it’s just today that you’re telling them how it happened.
He converted the archives section to a children’s library, you say in your message. Found him in his office, we talked, and I spent the night at his place. That’s all for now. I’ll talk to you soon.
Soomin’s barrage of excited curses is immediate. Jimin says he’s happy for you. And your mom sends you a heart emoji and tells you to stay happy.
You send a message to Yoongi, too, saying that you found Jungkook and that now you can learn what your heart is capable of. You thank him again, even if you know that those words will never be enough.
Standing from the bed, you head to the bathroom to finally wash up, thinking that it’ll take a while more before Jungkook finishes. You brush your teeth as you face the mirror, seeing his silhouette behind the frosted glass of the shower enclosure from the reflection. He exits before you finish, and you slow your movements once he comes into view, naked and all wet, and somehow even more breathtakingly handsome than usual.
You try to act unbothered as you wash your face, only glancing up to see him with a towel around his waist and another one that he uses to dry his hair. The flex of his tattooed arm brings back memories from last night when it was propped up on your side, supporting his body while he thrusted relentlessly inside you. You gripped that arm when he went deeper, and it was the same one that held you when you started drifting off to sleep.
He stands behind you and gives you a boyish smile before wrapping his arms around your waist. You jerk a little in surprise but soften when his chin rests on your shoulder, and the way he looks comfortable and content has your heart soaring at this side of him - bold and vulnerable as he expresses the things he feels for you in action.
“Can I do this?” He asks as he buries his face in your neck.
“Jungkook, we’ve done a lot in the last 12 hours,” you remind him. “Why are you asking permission to hug me?”
“I just don’t want to overwhelm you.”
You turn around to face him and look at him questioningly, unable to follow. You’d think that given all that you’ve both done, simple affection like this is far from overwhelming.
“What I mean is… Sex is sex. With you, it’s meaningful and intimate. We’re so lost in the feeling of desire and all that but this…” he says, wrapping your arms around him as if to explain. “This… this is a different kind of intimate. Waking up next to each other, morning kisses, random hugs… they say something else.”
“And that is?” You ask after a beat of silence, needing that quiet to take in his words.
“That I want you beyond all that lust and that high,” he answers. “And this… This takes more from us. And I know that because this used to scare me. This… I don’t know, vulnerability I guess? Having someone next to me while I sleep, being the first thing they see in the morning, doing ordinary things with them like taking a shower or something. Holding their hand. Hugging them because it just feels right. I don’t know if I’m making sense but—”
“You are,” you interject, knowing exactly what he means.
You used to say how you were intimate with the men you dated but you couldn’t say that you shared intimacy with them. It was such an abstract concept for you. That familiarity, that emotional connection, that feeling of safety and belongingness, and of certainty and clarity seemed so intangible.
There’s a reason why you never had them over at your place, why you could sleep and wake up next to them in their homes but prefer to spend the rest of the day by yourself or with your friends. There’s a reason why you were cautious about the personal things you shared, about your dreams and fears, why you never let them close enough to know how to love you. Something was always lacking and a part of that was because you never allowed yourself to give them more than what they could touch. Your body was as far as they could go; your heart was a restricted place that no one could enter.
Until Jungkook, and suddenly that intimacy is something tangible. You can feel it when his arms are around you, you can hear it in his giggles, you can see it in his smile, you can smell it as he stands a breath away, and you can taste it in his mouth, one that welcomes you in when you kiss him tenderly. You know there’ll be more ways that it will be tangible to you, that it’ll be something real and definite, something your mind could at least try to grasp. And he’s right - doing this takes more from you than sex for the sake of it ever could.
You’re letting someone into a place you’ve kept to yourself for so long. And that itself could be quite disorienting and overwhelming. He gets it because it’s something he’s probably done before, and he’s doing it again now.
You tell him with the way you kiss him that you get it, too. You tell him by the way you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer that that’s where you want him, and that he’s settled in your heart so suddenly yet so certainly that you don’t want him to go anywhere.
You’re content with this. You feel your need for pleasure heighten, you feel that slight throbbing of your cunt and the need for friction, you feel that desire course through your veins but you’re satisfied with this intimacy you share. You say it with how tenderly your fingers graze his face, with how your hand gently rests on his bare chest, and with how your movements remain slow, focused on the feel of him more than anything else.
He understands your contentment, too, and he says it with how he follows your pace, with how he softly palms your bare thighs, and with how he nibbles your lips in affection. You both pull away to get some air but he tells you, too, through his soft kisses on your cheeks and your forehead before a final one on your nose that this is enough, and that right now, this is all he needs.
“I bought breakfast,” he tells you as he takes your hand in his then leads you out of the bathroom. He grabs a pair of shorts from his closet while you watch on. “I got those street toasts and some pastries. I’ll warm them up and heat the coffee. Is that okay?”
“Of course,” you respond, giddy at the thought that he bought those for you. You mentioned in passing last night that you’ve missed eating them after being at your mom’s place for much of the week. “You still don’t have anything in your fridge or your pantry.”
“Exactly. So uh, I was thinking we could go do some groceries today and I can make something for you for a change, and no, the eggs on toast that one time don’t count.”
You’re endeared by the shy look on his face, and it’s not really one you can say no to.
“Sure, that would be nice,” you smile.
“I was hoping you’d, uh, stay the night again. And again. I canceled work for the team on Monday but I have to meet Hoseok and my father. Maybe I should cancel that, too.”
“And tell them, what? That you’re gonna be with me?” You chuckle. “That’s not happening. This… this can’t come between you and your job, okay?” You remind him, as you don’t want your newly formed relationship to negatively affect him, especially after all the work he’s done to be what he is now. “Work comes first. I’ll always understand.”
“It goes both ways,” he hums, as he sets the food in front of you. “So, when do you start your new job?”
“Next Monday,” you answer. “Which reminds me… I have to shop for trousers and dresses.”
“So, a wardrobe change, huh?” He asks, placing the cup of coffee and glass of water on the table before taking the seat next to you.
“Sort of. The pencil skirts feel restrictive. Plus, every time we ate out, I was always scared that the zipper would pop or something,” you laugh.
“It always felt odd that that was the recommended outfit for assistants,” he says. “I liked them on you though… respectfully speaking.”
You playfully shake your head at his statement, but he defends that they always paired well with your pastel-colored blouses that he claims bring out the color of your eyes.
“Well, I’ll still be using those. I just need to pair them with something else less formal.”
“We can go shopping today then,” he suggests. “Not unless that’s something you want to do on your own. I understand if it is. I mean, I… I don’t want to impose. I… I didn’t even ask you what you wanted to do today.”
“I didn’t really have anything in mind. My weekends are usually just spent doing chores and errands or watching stuff at home or in my local theater,” you say. “Not unless my friends visit or I go home. Other than that I just… do whatever I feel like on my own. And you? What do you usually do on weekends?”
“Work, gym, drink, watch sports, sleep,” he chuckles, recalling those days of loneliness and nothingness, which really wasn’t that long ago. “Meet my parents if I have to, hang out with my friends if I’m in the mood.”
“And go to the clubs?” You cock an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I guess,” he hums, knowing what you’re alluding to. “I do it less frequently now, though. I just go there to catch up with them then I go home. Don’t you do that, too?”
“Only when Jimin and Soomin are here. Socialite stuff, you know?” You explain.
“I guess,” he shrugs. “But we can do anything you want today. It’s up to you.”
“Okay, then shopping it is,” you smile at him, thinking it’s something fun that you could do together.
You think anything with him would be, and it excites you to know that many of the things you used to do alone is something you could now share and do with him. Maybe you could even do something new, like some outdoor activity or go to the arcades or even do a ghost tour just because.
But something ordinary like going to the groceries and shopping for new clothes are things you want to experience with him, too. They’re those intimate acts that he talked about earlier - simple and mundane, yet special and comfortable.
As you watch him in his plain shirt and shorts with his legs spread out as he sits on the chair beside you, and with him asking if you’re full and if there’s anything else you want, you think about all the days you’d spent on your own. There was always a certain kind of peace you felt then; you were alone but you weren’t lonely.
There were days when it got to you though, as you thought that it was probably nice to have someone to share a meal with, to laugh with as you watched your variety shows, and to lay next to as you talked about your day. You dwelled on the scenes that played in your head only briefly, knowing that there wasn’t anyone in your life then that you wanted to do those simple, mundane things with.
But with Jungkook here with you now, sharing those with someone does seem to require a level of vulnerability you hadn’t really thought about. You’re letting him in a space that’s always just had you in it, doing things that gave you peace, that gave you energy, that gave you those bits of happiness. He’ll no longer just be getting a peek into the world you carved for yourself; he’ll now truly be a part of it. And you want him to know that even if it may seem like it’s overwhelming, you welcome him completely.
“What you said earlier about not wanting to overwhelm me,” you start, “I… I appreciate that. This isn’t just a new side of you I’m experiencing. This is also a new side of myself that I’m getting to know, that I’m going to get used to.”
“I know. And I understand that,” he responds, turning to face you now. “People bring out parts of ourselves that we didn’t know we had. Or forgotten we had.”
“I guess. I’ve just… I’ve just never had a proper relationship before, you know? I’ve dated people but there were sides of me I didn’t wanna show, and there were things that I couldn’t really bring myself to do.”
“Such as?”
“Lingering,” you say after a beat of silence. “Little forms of affection that you mindlessly do,” you continue, fiddling with his fingers. “And meeting the parents. That was always too much for me.”
“Well, you’ve met mine,” he points out. “You knew them before you even knew me.”
There’s no bitterness in his voice but you’re reminded of the secret you kept, and that it’s something you still haven’t really acknowledged.
“I’m sorry about keeping that from you,” you bow your head. “I didn’t plan on deceiving you or anything. And I didn’t think it mattered. It only did once I started liking you. And I got too caught up with what I felt that I didn’t tell you right away.”
“Hey, you had your reasons,” he nudges your knee so you’d look at him. You look up and see the softness in his eyes. “And I’ll never fault you for them. You did what you had to do and I’m just glad you stayed long enough for us to meet again. I admit I… I thought that maybe you mistook your feelings for loyalty. That you cared because you thought you had to. And I’m sorry I did.”
“You had your reasons, too,” you answer. “And I’m sorry that’s what you thought after I kept it all from you. But it wasn’t hard to care about you, Jungkook,” you smile now. “What was hard was stopping myself from doing so. Even your parents noticed that. I guess I don’t have to prove that to them anymore. I’d like to think that with all the talks I had with your father, they already approve of me being with their son.”
His shy smile makes you feel giddy, as he bites his lip and the little dip on his cheek turns up.
“Well, I hope that your mom approves of me being with her daughter after that one talk with her,” he says worriedly.
“After expressing your feelings for me like that? Of course she does,” you giggle. “She told me not to go back to the house unless I’m with you so… yes, she definitely approves.”
“That’s a relief. I mean, after everything I put you through?”
His face falls a little and you’re starting to learn that he needs assurance every once in a while. So you give it to him, as you surprise him by sitting on his lap and cupping his face with your hands.
“We put each other through a lot but we’re together now,” you remind him. “We’re done with being idiots.”
“We are,” he chuckles, agreeing with Yoongi and Mr. Ri who fondly and frustratingly called you that. “But your mother might be serious about not welcoming you back there until I’m with you so let’s schedule that trip, okay? Maybe I could meet her husband, too?”
“They’re not actually married,” you sigh, shifting so that you’re leaning on his chest now. “They’ve been together for over 10 years and Min-woo has even proposed but she doesn’t think marrying is necessary. They’re committed, they’re happy, she treats Yoon-chae and Yeo-jin like her daughters. This… this family is all they need, not a marriage. Plus, it’s quite expensive to do that and she’s just being practical.”
“Do you agree with her?”
“I guess,” you shrug. “I mean, what else is stronger than love? Than committing your whole self to that person?”
“Committing the rest of your life to them,” Jungkook responds.
He knows it’s not easy though. He’d seen his parents drift apart but he also saw them stand by each other after all that. Maybe they had to because that’s what commitment means - it’s an obligation, a duty; it gives the person no choice but to stay. But then again, after speaking to them more regularly these past weeks, he’s seen their little acts of care and support for each other, of understanding and trust. Perhaps commitment is also that devotion, that promise and constancy, that tangibility of connection and permanence.
“Maybe,” you hum. “I think it’s just a fear that she never really got over. Her parents divorced. My biological father had plans of marrying her only to leave before I was born. She says she doesn’t want to taint what she already has with Min-woo over some symbolic act that’s hurt her twice before. And I don’t blame her. Things hurt us and then… we just get scared. It’s human nature, I think.”
“That’s true. I… I’m proof of that,” he whispers, as if in shame.
“So am I,” you utter, shifting now so you can look at him again in assurance. “It wasn’t even my pain I carried; it was hers. But that still kept me from accepting good things. I was scared to open myself up, I was scared to love…”
Love. It’s a foreign word to you in the context of romance. It’s something that seemed easy to understand but you realized that feeling it isn’t. Nor is finding it. You know you’ve never felt anything like how Jungkook makes you feel, and you wonder if love is something like this, and if it’s something that he feels, too.
“I get it,” he looks away. “It’s not easy to do nor is it easy to take. You never know if you’re good enough for it or if you deserve it. I learned that the hard way, and I still don’t think I…” he trails, shaking his head, as if it’s too much or too soon for him to say.
You suppose it is. You don’t know much about his relationships but you do remember Taehyung mentioning an ex-girlfriend before, someone whom Jungkook seemed to have loved so much, given the heartbreak he suffered through after the breakup. You wonder if he’ll ever talk about her, or if it even matters. He’s already let you in, and you don’t want to give him a reason to shut you out or feel like you’re intruding. Your relationships are hard to talk about, too, not because they hurt you but because you feel ashamed of them. There are crevices in your heart that you want to leave untouched; you suppose that so does he.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, hoping he’d look at you again.
He eventually does, the softness on his face returning when you tell him you understand. He nods and smiles, pulling you close for a languid kiss, his grip on your waist tightening as you match his slow place.
Jungkook feels you smile against his lips. Whatever heaviness he felt earlier as he talked about love, something he’s been afraid to have again after he shunned it away, disappears.
That’s what kissing you does to him, he’s learning now. It makes the pain hurt less. It makes him forget about his burdens. It makes him feel something he hasn’t in a long time. It makes him hope that he’s capable of doing right by you this time.
And with how you hug him tightly after you pull away to breathe, he knows that kissing you gives him that strength to face whatever it is he’s still afraid of, and that you’ll stand by him until he’s ready.
You watch Jungkook from next to your closet as you wear your slip-on dress, a practical outfit given your shopping plans this afternoon. You’ve gone back to your apartment for a change of clothes and to bring some back to his place, and you left him in your living room as you packed your stuff from several meters away.
He stands by your couch, hands in his pockets as he looks at your photos on the shelf. He has a faraway look in his eyes, one that’s different from the times he zones out and temporarily escapes to somewhere in his head. You wonder what specific photo he’s focused on and what he’s thinking, so you walk over to him and stand on his side.
It’s the one of you in your uniform during your first day at your new school in Busan. You don’t remember much from that day but your mom said you were shy to make friends. She told you that she was going to just be around because she worked there, too. You smiled just like she asked as she knelt down next to you while a moment marking your new life in a new town was being memorialized.
You don’t recall taking that many pictures growing up but apparently she did, as she gave you a box of them when you moved back to Seoul on your own. They were all memories from a past you either couldn’t remember or tried hard to forget, but somehow she kept the good ones, perhaps to remind you that in the midst of all that nightmare, she did her best to keep you safe and happy.
“You have your mother’s smile,” Jungkook says. “It’s very warm and encouraging. I get it now, why my father thought you were just like her. You’ve always had this tenderness ever since you were young.”
“I guess,” you hum. “Who’d know the pain underneath all that, right?”
“I’m sorry for what you had to go through,” he turns to you, feeling that tinge of pain in recalling what you experienced as a child.
“And I’m sorry for what it did to your family,” you sigh, an apology that took you this long to give.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he responds, turning his gaze back to the photo. “I let the resentment get to me. I guess… my parents didn’t deserve that.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that you were hurt, Jungkook. Your parents will always carry that with them. But they… they saved us. They helped us get away,” you remind him.
“I know. You get to be next to me because of them and that… that’s helped me alot,” he admits. “It helped me understand and forgive.”
“That’s good. I’m sure that means everything to them.”
There’s silence as his eyes remain focused on the photo, and you wonder what else he’s thinking, if there’s anything else he’s sorry or thankful for.
“I’m trying so hard to remember meeting you that day,” he finally says, with a hint of desperation in his voice. “I’ve buried so many memories and this is the one I wish I kept but I… I can’t because it’s gone. I hate that it is.”
“I’ve been trying to remember you, too,” you respond. “I almost didn’t believe my mom when she said that we’ve met before. She never told me about it but she said it slipped her mind. It was a long time ago and so much happened that day. Seeing you with that chocopie triggered that memory, I guess. We don’t really talk about that time anymore. And I hate that it’s buried somewhere in my mind. But it’s a nice thought, isn’t it?” You turn to him. “We met all those years ago and we never knew. But I kept you with me in the form of a dessert that I still absolutely love, that I eat whenever I’m sad or alone or upset. Connections aren’t fleeting, I’m sure of it now. You’re proof of that.”
He returns your look, one of sadness but acceptance. It’s one of those things you’re both going to have to deal with, as all the truths about your past come to light. You hope you can just focus on the good things from now on, and with how his lips slowly turn up in a smile, you think that so does he.
“That’s true,” he hums. “You stuck it out for me without even knowing. That’s… that’s pretty special.”
“It is,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist for a hug and hearing him release a breath when you do. He returns the affection immediately, and realizing that it’s something you both naturally give to and receive from each other makes you smile. “It’s as if there was some invisible string that kept pulling me towards you. It’s kinda stubborn like me, I think.”
It’s a thought you hold close to your heart. You’re not really one who believes in fate, but with Jungkook, it’s easy to fall into it. You can’t help but think that beyond the debt you felt you had to pay, you unknowingly stayed in the company for another reason, and perhaps that’s so you could meet him and remember it this time.
You held out so you could build something with him, so you could learn to want to be free, and then want it enough to finally put yourself first. You’re only able to be with him because of that choice, and despite what it took for you to get here, it’s that same string that’s keeping you from regretting all your decisions.
He responds with a soft kiss on your lips, one that you quickly melt into. The tender moment is slightly disrupted when he kneads your ass, something you’re also learning he’s quite fond of doing, causing you to yelp in surprise and laugh in response. But he just giggles and says he can’t help it. He buries his face in your neck, the feel of him so close warming your insides as he seems to crave that proximity, too.
His phone ringing prompts him to pull away, and you let him go once he greets his mother on the other line.
“Hello, my dear,” she chirps. “How are you feeling today? Your father told me that you left the Arts Center quite early last night.”
“Uh, yeah, I did,” he hums, sitting on the couch now while he watches you finish your packing. “I was just tired from all the socializing.”
“I understand. I can imagine how exhausted you must feel. Were you able to get some rest?”
“Sort of,” he answers, smiling internally at how the night went.
Sure, there was a bit of rest, if he counts the four hours of sleep he had because he just couldn’t get enough of you. Even when he was spent from all that you did, he’d just take you in his arms and all you had to do was smile at him or softly kiss his lips and then he wanted to go another round.
He supposes that all the built-up tension and months of holding himself back had just exploded, and he wants every opportunity he could have to show you how much you mean to him.
“Well, even then, I was hoping you’re free for dinner tonight,” his mother says. “Think of it as a celebration now that your big project is completed.”
“I, uh, I’m kinda busy tonight,” he responds. “Maybe we can have dinner another time?”
“What else could you possibly be busy with this time?” She asks, but she doesn’t sound offended.
There’s a tone of acceptance in her voice. Jungkook knows she’s used to this, but he doesn’t want this to continue being a norm. He genuinely wants to make time for them, and it’s something you encouraged him to do, too. But he’s still caught up with his new reality with you, so he decides to be honest instead.
“Being with ___,” he admits. “We finally talked and we, uh, we spent the night together. And we’re going out today.”
“Oh, that’s amazing news,” she sighs in relief. “Your father can breathe easy now. And he can finally claim to be a matchmaker,” she chuckles.
Jungkook hears his old man in the background say that it took 20 years but he’ll take it.
“Is he next to you?” Jungkook laughs.
“He is,” she responds. “He said he saw ___ last night and she was looking for you, but he wasn’t sure how to ask you how it went. So he asked me to invite you to dinner and see if you had plans and well, we’re glad you do.”
“Yeah, we just have a lot to make up for,” he explains, glancing at you. “If you were serious about a celebratory dinner then we can have it another day. Is that okay?”
“Of course, my dear,” she responds. “What about next weekend?”
“I’ll confirm with her and let you know.”
“Alright, son. Well, we don’t want to keep you,” his mother says. “You and ___ have a good day, okay? We’ll see you soon.”
You watch Jungkook smile through the conversation with his parents, something you assume hasn’t happened in years. It’s nice to see him slowly start to mend their relationship. And though you want him to spend time with them, you also can’t help but want to have him all to yourself, and staying in where he promised to cook you his speciality for dinner is how you want to spend your Saturday evening.
The thought excites you. Everything that happened last night just intensified your desire for him. For months, the affection you felt towards him slowly developed. And for months after, you tried to downplay it and hold yourself back from all you could feel. Now, you get to have him in all the ways you want, and it’s overwhelming. What once was a battle of conflicting emotions in your head and heart has been replaced with an overflow of them - all good ones, and it’s a new experience.
It’s a new experience being able to talk about the things that hurt you, that scared you, that you dream about, just like you did last night while you sat on the couch. It’s new being entangled with someone under soft sheets and actually wanting to stay. It’s new sharing a meal with someone while you talk about your plans for the day, and then holding their hand while they drive later on. It’s a new experience welcoming someone into your home and imagining spending days with them here.
It’s also a new experience being able to openly ogle them, like what you’re doing now as you gaze at Jungkook sitting on your couch, phone still in hand as he now talks to Seokjin on the phone.
He’s donned in a pair of jeans and plain white shirt with a baseball cap on, a casual ensemble that still has you melting because of how comfortable he looks. The thin, silver chain is an unexpected accessory, and he said it’s something he’s always had but rarely wore. But upon seeing your satisfied look, he said he’ll wear it from now on. The way he smirked at you plays in your head, and with how he’s got his legs splayed out and his hand behind his head, you start to feel that familiar knot in your belly. You turn around before you get tempted to do anything. And while you’re free to do so, some self-discipline wouldn’t hurt.
You’re not pressed for time so you let him continue with his call. Based on what you hear, he’s updating his best friends about what happened last night, and his groans tell you that they’re probably teasing him about it. Affectionately, you assume.
You decide to water your plants while waiting. It's been days. Some leaves have started to dry up so you remove those, too. You’re focused on what you’re doing and jerk in surprise when you feel Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist. But you settle in his hold immediately, leaning on his chest and humming in contentment now that your plants look better and more alive.
“Sorry I kept you waiting,” he says, his chin resting on your shoulder now.
“It’s alright,” you reply. “How did the talk with your parents go? And your friends?”
“All fine. My parents want to have dinner and the guys want to go to a club,” he sighs. “But I said you’re my priority right now and not them, so they just have to wait until I’m free, which probably won’t be for a while since we have plans and all.”
“And what are those plans?” You turn around and ask.
“I don’t know, we’ll just have to make them.”
You playfully shake your head and lay your hands on his chest, a habit you think you’re going to develop with the way he constantly pulls you close.
“We could make plans with them,” you say softly. “Not unless you, uh, don’t want to.”
“Don’t be silly,” he frowns. “Of course I do. I just don’t want to impose and have you spend time with my family and friends if you don’t want to.”
“Why won’t I want to?” You frown back. “Plus, that’s part of being with you, isn’t it? Spending time with the people you care about?”
“It is,” he smiles. “So, uh, what do you think about next Saturday? We can have dinner with my parents then go out with the guys and then say we’re tired so we can leave early?”
“That’s… that’s quite the plan,” you laugh.
“Or we could just reschedule time with Seokjin and Taehyung. They’ll understand.”
“I’m fine with that, too,” you nod. “And then maybe we could also, uh, make the trip to Daegu and I can properly introduce you to my family?”
“That sounds good,” he nods. “And what about your friends? That is, if they want to spend time with me. And by they, I mean Jimin.”
You snort in response to Jungkook's statement, which he’s not wrong for making. The last time they were in the same room together, you felt the tension through the roof.
“He’s just being protective, as he should,” you explain. “He’s seen me date men who turned out to be shitty and he just wants to make sure I’m treated well. And that I’m happy. And I am, so he’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure that’s all?” Jungkook questions.
“Yes,” you assure him. “We’ve been best friends for 20 years. It’s natural to be cautious about people. At least he is because I’m clearly not.”
“Okay,” he hums. “We’ll make plans, then. And then we can go to one of our properties in Gwangju. And Jeju. And anywhere you want to go to. We could fly to Japan or Europe or wherever, really.”
“Alright, one at a time,” you chuckle, the mix of excitement and nervousness filling you up. “Let’s not forget that I have a budget and limited leaves.”
“Which we’ll work out,” he says, adding that he’s definitely not going to make you spend a single cent. “But we could also just stay in or go to a park or watch movies. Anything, really.”
There’s a sadness in his eyes that you recognize, like this admission of longing that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. You soften as you caress his face, wanting him to know that whatever it is he wants to do, you want to do all of those with him, too.
“I… I don’t know when the last time was that I actually looked forward to the weekend,” he admits. “I didn’t actually like it, only because I was forced to not work. And I always wanted to work. It… it made me forget how lonely I really was.”
He looks away, as he reveals a part of him that he’s never shared to anyone.
It wasn’t always like this. His teenage years were filled with holidays with his parents and weekends in their scenic properties despite the distance he felt from them. But he couldn’t wait to grow up, to be independent and live life his way. He studied hard and by the time he was in university, he was working at the company already, eager to learn and earn money, something he continued to do when he did his postgraduate studies in Singapore.
But he had Chaerin then, and his life was filled with excitement and happiness. There was always something to do, something to look forward to, until he lost it all and became a shell of who he was. There was so much void within that continued to get larger the more he spent time on his own after the breakup.
He worked even harder because he didn’t know what to do with his time. He bought useless things because he didn’t know what to do with his money. He went to clubs and slept around because he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, only so he wouldn’t be faced with the reality that he wasn’t happy, that all the things he wanted - a sense of purpose, a hand to hold - were out of his reach.
The Arts Center was his saving grace. It gave his life meaning, as he sought meaning through it. And that’s what allowed him to be here with you. In building something for others, he realized how strong his desire for intimacy was, and how much he wanted to experience the world with someone, to share in its joys and difficulties, to learn what more he could give and get from it. And you’re everything tangible that used to just be a blur to him.
In building something for you, he realized how much he wants you to be happy, how much he wants you to always be safe. And he gets to be that person who makes it happen.
It’s barely been a day but he supposes it’s why he can’t get enough of you, why he constantly reaches out, needing to know you’re next to him and not some image he conjured in his mind. It’s why he wants to make all these plans, so he could experience all the things he’s wanted but was always afraid to feel because of the fear of losing it one day.
“There are so many places I want to explore and I want us to do them together,” you whisper, tilting his chin so he faces you again. “There are all these things I want to try and experience, even some things I usually do on my own that I want to share with you. I get you, Jungkook. I let days pass me by. All I did was look forward to something I didn’t even know. Now I know what I want, and that includes having them with you.”
His eyes soften as you utter the words, with your fingers tracing his face as if to see if he’s real, too, and if happiness is something that you can finally touch.
“You don’t have to feel alone anymore,” you continue. “And I don’t have to feel that way, either, because you’re there. I want you to always be there.”
“I will,” he smiles, gently pressing his lips onto yours. “And we can do whatever you want.”
“Okay. A ghost tour is on my list,” you say, thinking to lighten the mood.
“It is, huh?” He laughs. “I mean, sure. I can definitely protect you.”
“You mean, I can protect you,” you counter.
“___, I’m scared of thunder, not ghosts. I think I’ll be fine,” he chuckles.
“And I’m scared of the living, not the dead, so I’ll be fine, too,” you point out. “I’ve always wanted to try it but I didn’t want a spirit to latch onto me because I was alone.”
“I don’t think that’s how it goes,” he playfully shakes his head. “But sure, we can do that. Anything else?”
“Hmm. Something outdoors? I… I really liked it when we were at your lake house and we sat on the rocks by the stream,” you reminisce. “It was very peaceful and it was just nice being out there.”
“Did you like it when you had your arms around me during the ATV ride, too?” He smirks. “Because I did.”
“It was bumpy,” you pout. “I should drive it next time and you can be my passenger.”
“Gotta learn how to drive first,” he teases. “How come you never learned?”
“Because it didn’t seem practical to learn and not have a car to drive,” you reason. “I’ll just forget it so I never bothered. Probably when I’m in my forties and I can afford to buy one.”
“Or I can get you one.”
He looks at you like he’s serious, and he probably is. So you draw the line before he thinks it’s okay for him to do that.
“You won’t. I will not accept it,” you say sternly. “And you will not buy me anything of that kind.”
“Fine. But I can buy you other things like jewelry and clothes and—”
“Jungkook, you know I don’t like you for your money, right?” You frown. “I know we’re leagues apart in terms of wealth and I—”
“I know,” he says, pulling open your crossed arms and wrapping them around him again. “I’m just saying that I want to buy you things because I like you. It’s… just a way for me to show you how I feel. No cars, I promise.”
“Good. I’m not gonna be able to drive it anyway,” you laugh.
“I can always teach you,” he says. “It’s still a good skill to have, you know?”
“Hmm, maybe one of these days,” you smile.
“So in the meantime, I can get you something else. Maybe something for work? Please?”
He uses his doe-eyes to convince you, and it doesn’t take much. You suppose that for someone who’s not always good with words, buying you things is a way for him to make up for it. He built you a library, after all. You’re not always good with words, either, but perhaps accepting what he gives is a way for you to show him how you feel, too, among other things.
“Fine,” you give in. “Just one thing.”
You find yourself hours later in a boutique shop on a quiet street in Incheon.
You and Jungkook agreed that doing your shopping in the neighboring city will keep you from running into people that you don’t want knowing about your relationship at this point, such as the management support team or anyone else, really.
You went to a shopping center after the hour-long drive. You opted for mid-range brands that offered comfortable basics, stocking up on slacks and tops to match the blazers and coats that you already have. You picked some flowy skirts and dresses, too, while Jungkook convinced you to get some of the statement pieces that caught your eye.
He was an engaged companion, carrying your basket as you walked around and then finding you when you wandered too far. He gave approving nods whenever you showed something to him, surprising you when he’d comment that you already have a similar colored top. He looked embarrassed then, when he explained that you had outfits that stuck with him. You admitted that so did you, with his charcoal and navy suits as your favorites.
He sported that shy smile again, a sight you never thought you’d one day be spoiled with. It always gave you a kind of comfort that you’ve never felt before, and you suppose it’s why you wanted to keep seeing it. Doing this with him today has given you that same feeling, especially when he’d look at you satisfied and say that he really likes how the outfit looks on you.
You passed on the premium outlet shopping center, stating your case to Jungkook that you’re not one to wear luxury brands to a place as constant as your workplace. And while you agreed to him buying you something, you said you preferred it to be one of quality, and not just because it was expensive. Which is why you’re currently in this local boutique store selling the prettiest shoes you’ve ever seen.
The name sounds familiar, and you remember going through some fashion magazines at Taehyung’s shop and seeing this listed on a best new brands list. Deservingly so, it seems, as the collection before you boasts of a variety of simple and statement designs that look soft and comfortable, too. You’re particularly drawn to the colored ones, since you could never wear those styles before. Your recommended outfits only allowed basic and muted colors, so your black and nude pumps were your go-to. And while you’ll still be wearing those, you definitely want a pair that would stand out. Or two.
“See anything you like?” Jungkook breaks through your thoughts.
You turn to him with a sparkle in your eyes as you nod shyly.
“See anything you really like?” He chuckles as he walks towards you and you nod again.
“Tell me,” he urges.
You get the ones that caught your eye - a pair of orange satin pumps and these olive green suede heels with ankle straps. You love the hues and how they’ll contrast some of your neutral-colored outfits, but right now, you don’t know which one you want more.
“I can’t choose between these two,” you say, scrunching your eyebrows.
“Easy. We get both of them,” Jungkook replies as he asks the staff to get your size.
He stands in front of you as you try each pair, his eyes following you as you walk around the store and check yourself in the mirror. He softens at your smile as you look at your reflection. There’s wonder in it, and he’s glad that he’s able to give this to you, of all things. It’s cliche but those shoes will take you to places; he looks forward to being next to you when they do.
He giggles when you wear one of each pair and keep turning positions to see how you look in them.
“Hey, I’m serious,” he says. “We can get both of them. You can even get more.”
“But I don’t want you to spoil me,” you pout.
“But I will,” he insists, standing in front of you now. “I liked the smile you had earlier. I want to keep making you smile like that. And no, I don’t think you’re being materialistic or anything,” he adds before you unnecessarily defend yourself. “They’re pretty things and I want to give them to you.”
“Fine,” you pout again. “Do you like them, at least?”
“They’re nice,” he compliments.
“Just nice?” You frown. “That’s what you said the first time you saw me in a dress.”
Your teasing smile makes him laugh, but it somehow comforts him. He remembers that day clearly, when you accompanied him to Taehyung’s shop to fit the suits made for him, and you tried on the gowns that his best friend made for you, too. Seeing you in that burgundy attire made his heart drop, and that’s what’s been happening every single time that he sees you all dressed up. He didn’t think you’d remember but apparently, it stuck with you.
“It’s not like I could say that you looked stunning then, now could I?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“So that’s what you thought, huh?” You nibble your lower lip.
“Always,” he responds. “It’s been hard keeping myself together ever since.”
The heat rushes to your cheeks at his confession, and for all the times you cursed yourself for being unprofessional for finding him attractive, you at least don’t feel too bad now that he thought the same.
“That makes both of us,” you smirk, liking how he playfully shakes his head and turns away.
He wants to kiss you right now but he knows it’s not the time nor place.
“So, both of these shoes, then?” He confirms. “Are you sure you only want two?”
“Yes. You’ve spoiled me enough already,” you state.
He concedes, even if he really wants to buy you more. He wants to shower you with so many things but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you with that side of him just yet, so he’ll take things slow for now.
He walks with you to the counter where he pays for the shoes. He sees the sparkle in your eyes when he takes the shopping bags from the staff and there’s something so wholesome about how you look that has his insides warming up.
“You like them, too, right?” You ask as you both walk out the store to head back to the car.
“Of course,” he hums. “They’re pretty and you like them. Plus, I saw the reviews that said the shoes are comfortable and sturdy. And you need that. I can’t have you tripping yourself because of unstable heels and then falling into the arms of some man again. I won’t be there to catch you anymore.”
“Hey,” you pull his arm to get his attention, frowning at him when he turns to you at the reminder of that Arts Center incident. “That was one time.”
“You trip on yourself when you’re on the ladder, too,” he points out. “And I’m always there breaking your fall.”
“And why are you?” You cock an eyebrow. “You always had your eyes on me, didn’t you, Mr. Jeon?”
“Couldn’t help it, even if I wasn’t supposed to,” he says. “I just found myself always looking out for you. And you just happened to be tripping a few of those times.”
You laugh in response because he’s not wrong, but it’s also a way for you to tell him it’s okay. You suppose you weren’t the only one paying attention because he seemed to do that a lot with you. And the more you think about it, the more you realize that the feelings you once doubted were sincere have been present all this time. But he held himself back, just like you did. He tried not to cross the line because he knew it wouldn’t be right until you did, and all he wanted was to keep you close so he could be there for you. Because the moment he knew what was keeping you there, he made the difficult decision of letting you go.
You smile at the thought, learning now that when it comes to you, Jungkook is attentive. He’s protective and he wants to make you happy, to shower you with gifts, to make you experience good things in life because it’s his way of expressing his feelings. You may be starting a new job that requires you to be apart from him, but in his own ways, he’s still looking out for you.
You want to carry him with you as you take on a new challenge, too. And you’ll look back on today as a way for you to do that. It’s in the shoes that he bought for you; it’s in his company and patience as you went around looking for clothes earlier; it’s in the experience of doing something together.
A sigh of relief escapes you as you settle in the passenger seat. It’s been tiring but also really fun, and you smile again at the thought of being able to do this for yourself.
Since your first visit at Rkive Publishing, you’ve been envisioning how you’d look and how your days were going to be. It filled you with excitement seeing that image of you in your mind - dressed in clothes that made you feel comfortable but powerful, in an environment that was challenging but exhilarating, in a place that didn’t make you feel stuck or constrained. It truly feels like a new beginning, and you didn’t realize that the simple act of shopping could make you see yourself differently, that it could make your approach to work feel more relaxed.
“I didn’t know you enjoyed shopping that much,” Jungkook says. “Guess we’ll have to do that again.”
“I didn’t know, too,” you chuckle. “But I think it’s more than that,” you turn to him with a soft smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever really shopped for a full wardrobe before. All my office clothes were hand-me-downs from my mom when I started working and I just gradually bought my own over the years. But now I get to buy all these new things for what I feel like is a new chapter in my life, you know? It sounds silly but I’m pretty sentimental about it.”
“It’s not silly,” he replies. “You’re doing something that you chose, that you’re happy with. That means everything.”
His eyes soften and you realize that you haven’t really talked about your resignation. And with all your excitement for your new job, the last thing you want is for you to think that you felt burdened by working for him.
“Jungkook, I… I’m sorry for resigning when I did,” you start, earning you a shake of his head. “I don’t want you to think that I wasn’t happy working for the company. Because I had great moments, and you were one of them,” you explain.
He nods as he takes in your words, and you take his hand to tell him you mean them.
“It was hard at first but I stuck it out because it felt ungrateful of me to leave,” you continue. “Things got better when I was under Hoseok but there was always that feeling that I didn’t deserve everything, even if I was giving all of myself to the job. And that was all on me. I realized that I was the one who couldn’t move on from my past. And I just constantly felt stuck. Working hard was all I knew how to do until I didn’t know myself anymore but you… You helped me realize what I was missing. You helped me realize what I could be.”
“How?” He asks.
“The Arts Center,” you say. “Learning about why you wanted to build it showed me that it’s what I wanted, too - to create meaning, to connect people to something, to experience something tangible that could stay with us. You were so passionate about it and I wanted to be passionate about something just like you. And I’m sorry I had to leave because of that. And well, I also really like you and it didn’t feel right to stay any longer after what happened.”
“I didn’t realize that it meant that much to you,” he responds, caressing your hand now.
“It did. It still does. Being there last night made me feel so many things, especially the library,” you say. “I think I’ll need time to really soak everything in.”
“We can do that tomorrow,” he suggests. “It’ll be open until late all weekend and we can go around if you want.”
“I’d really like that,” you smile at him.
He smiles back but there’s still that tinge of sadness in his eyes, and you continue looking at him to urge him to say what he wants to say.
“I should’ve asked you why you wanted to leave instead of asking you to stay,” he sighs. “I probably would’ve understood. I mean I… I’m working for my family and it’s all I’ll ever do. I’ve lost myself in it, too. I know it’s not the same but I guess that’s why constructing the Arts Center mattered that much to me. It was different. I felt like it was the only way I could find meaning in what I was doing, something that went beyond my duties to my family. I… I learned what I wanted to be for someone, too, because of you. So I understand why you have to do this for yourself, ___,” he turns to you with an assuring look. “After everything settled, I knew that leaving would be the only way for you to be truly happy because then, you get to do something for yourself. And I just want you to know that I really want this for you, too. I’m just glad I get to be next to you like this.”
You feel your eyes turn glassy. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed to hear that from him. And given all the new experiences and challenges you’ll be facing, having someone to hold your hand and tell you that things will be okay makes it more meaningful. You won’t be going through things on your own anymore. And you get to tell him that he won’t, either.
His smile tells you that he understands, and it’s one that you mirror.
“Your new boss seems nice,” Jungkook says as he looks back on the road. “He called me one day and asked about you.”
“Namjoon did say he spoke with you,” you respond. “And yes, he’s very kind. He rambles a lot but he’s just very passionate about books and literature. I’m sure I’ll learn so much from him.”
“That’s good. It’s a new industry so it’s important to have a mentor like him,” Jungkook hums. “Just, you know, don’t trip and fall into his arms or something.”
“That is not going to happen,” you laugh. “Are you jealous?” You nudge him. “Are you the jealous type?”
“No,” he frowns.
“Good. You have nothing to be worried about, okay? He has nice dimples but I like yours better,” you tease.
He pouts at you but you just kiss his cheek to appease him, your own affection surprising you. You find yourself constantly showing it to him, wanting him to know how you feel instead of words you don’t think you’ll be able to say.
“Are you the jealous type?” He asks now.
“I actually don’t know,” you wonder.
Your past relationships weren’t really exclusive so you didn’t have a reason to be jealous.
“We should go to a club and see,” he says.
“Hey,” you whine. “All the women will flock to you.”
“And who says the men won’t flock to you?” He arches an eyebrow. “You’re the one that people fall for.”
“And you’re not?”
“___, I’ve slept with women but let’s not pretend they wanted to be with me,” he chuckles.
“Maybe they did, and you just never gave them a chance,” you reason.
“Well, I never let them stay long enough to know,” he shrugs. “It’s not something I do, and it’s not something I ask of them.”
But you asked me to, you don’t say. You remember the look of rejection in his eyes that night at his office and how you turned him away. Perhaps to him, you’re also someone he was willing to crawl out of his walls for, and for a time, he thought you didn’t want him enough.
You promise yourself that you’ll make it a point to show him that you always do, whether it’s through words or actions but especially through your way of opening up yourself to him completely.
You nudge his hand that’s still in yours, prompting him to look at you.
“I’m here to stay,” you tell him, wanting him to feel the weight of your words because you don’t do that for anyone, either. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You say it almost in a whisper, like it’s a promise you want him to know you’ll always keep. He lifts your hand to his lips and he kisses it, a way to let you know that he’s not going anywhere, too. He’ll keep holding your hand wherever you or he goes because he knows that right next to you is where he wants to be.
It’s a very intimate act, and it’s barely been a day but he’s done so many of those already with you, including expressing his honest and sentimental feelings. He supposes it’s all the time he’s held back. Or maybe all the years that he kept himself from feeling and showing any of that.
But you have each other to share those with now and he hopes that however he chooses to show them to you, you’ll understand and accept them and like you said, you’ll stay and not go anywhere.
You spend the rest of the car ride back to Seoul talking about the posts and articles being written about the Arts Center. You go on social media and read them out to Jungkook, warming at how softly he smiles with every compliment from the visitors and artists. Even if you weren’t there during the ceremony last night, you’re glad that you’re at least able to celebrate with him from this day forward.
You arrive at a supermarket and let Jungkook take the lead. But while he’s buying to fill up his fridge and pantry, he’s taken it upon himself to make sure you have everything you need and want, too.
He picks up the coffee pods and grounds that you mentioned you like. He asks you for your preferred snacks and desserts on top of the chocopie that he gets boxes of. He lets you choose your skincare and bath products. He grabs containers of side dishes and an array of meat and vegetables, as well as a sack of rice. There are other ingredients he gets and before you know it, you’ve got a cart filled to the brim and a satisfied man pushing it to the counter.
He pays for his purchases and you realize just how much he’s actually bought.
“Are you throwing a party that I don’t know of?” You tease, as he hauls all the groceries in his trunk. “That’s a lot of shopping for one person.”
“I, uh, I was hoping to have you stay over during the weekends,” he says shyly. “I mean, we can also stay at your place if you’re okay with us being there. But I just thought about buying a lot of what we want when we stay in and stuff.”
“Are you bribing me with food so that I’ll spend more nights with you?” You cock an eyebrow.
“Yes? Well, I’d like to think I’m good company, too,” he chuckles. “And that you’d, uh, want to spend time with me. Is it too much?”
“Of course not,” you say. “It’s sweet actually, how you’re making a space for me in your home. And you don’t have to bribe me, you know? The place is good, the company’s good,” and whispering in his ear, you add, “the sex is good. I… I’d like to spend time with you, too.”
“That’s comforting,” he laughs as you both head inside the car. “Although I’d prefer for that last one to be more than good.”
“Hmm. Good thing you have tonight to show me, then,” you teasingly smile.
He groans as he playfully shakes his head, this bold version of you still flustering him. But he wants to tease back, so he turns to you and pulls your face close to him. He gives you a deep kiss before booping your nose with his.
“Just make sure to keep up, yeah?” He answers.
“Rude,” you gasp, earning you a laugh. “It’s not my fault you don’t get tired.”
“It’s not my fault that you do.”
Your pout makes him want to erase it with a kiss so that’s what he does again, and he likes that he can do this over and over, as many times as he wants.
“I’m kidding. I’ll do whatever you want,” he smiles. “Just as long as it makes you feel good.”
You’re only able to nod now, not wanting to provoke him any further because another word of him telling you what he can do is gonna cause you to spiral.
The sun is still out by the time you arrive at his penthouse with everything you bought for the day. He insists on having your clothes washed - a perk he has as owner of the building, and you give in. He says it’s so they’re all ready for you next week, and you’re once again reminded of this thoughtful side of him. Sure, money helps, but you suppose it’s easy for a rich man to just think of what conveniences him but not others. In many ways, he’s shown you that he’s more than that. You’re able to see it all up close now, and you can’t help but like him even more.
After he hands your bag of clothes to the butler, he heads to the kitchen where he says he’s going to prepare dinner. You follow him and look on curiously as he brings out a few of the ingredients you bought earlier.
“What’s on the menu?” You ask, sitting on the counter right next to where he’s got his work space laid out.
“Buckwheat noodles with my special sauce,” he answers. “And some boiled pork.”
“That sounds delicious,” you hum. “And here I thought you hire people to cook for you.”
“Can’t really call someone over at 2AM to make me dinner, can I?” He laughs.
“Why would you have dinner at 2AM?!”
“Because it’s how I am,” he shrugs. “I mean, sometimes I have dinner out. Some nights I’m so tired from work so I take a nap and wake up at odd hours, or I’d just work all night and realize I haven’t eaten so I make something then. Meat is easy to grill, noodles are quick to make, but for you, I’m making special versions.”
“I feel special already,” you giggle. “But that’s not healthy, Jungkook,” you turn serious. “Meal time is meal time and rest time is rest time. You always work so hard, you need to take a break and not overdo yourself.”
“I know. You used to tell me that all the time,” he smiles softly. “It was nice to hear, and I listened to you. I guess those were the only times when I let myself take a breath. You were pretty stubborn about it.”
“Because you were a hard-head about it,” you frown. “So much for being protective of me when you couldn’t even look out for yourself.”
“I know, that’s why you were there,” he points out. “And you were the same, so that’s why I was there for you, too. We, uh, I guess we complemented each other that way.”
“I guess,” you smile now.
There’s some sadness in that thought, though, at how you both went on years just focusing on your respective jobs individually and not having much you share with others. Sure, you had your friends and so did he, but in the silence of your own homes, you lived through every day just waiting for the next, not knowing what to look forward to about it.
You suppose that’s what happens when you share only the most shallow parts of yourself to someone - your body, your time, your energy - but even those were limited. Now, you get to feel what it’s like to share more of them, in ways that require more. But you’re willing to do all that, and you can see that so is he.
Jungkook boils the pork in some spices and says that it’ll take some time. He gestures towards the balcony where you see the sun about to set. You’ve never seen it from this high, and he says that he hasn’t watched it from here in months because he’s been getting home late. His office doesn’t offer this same view.
You head out and take a seat on the couch where he follows. He positions himself next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer until you’ve got your legs on his lap and your head on his chest. Being with him like this, you feel comfortable again; you feel safe.
The sky is beautiful and it’s another version of it that you get to share with him. You know there’ll be more of this that you’ll have, and you’ll keep this in your memory just like all the other times that you did.
His free hand draws patterns on your knee and you try to decipher what they are, recalling those days of watching him doodle on his leather notebook and wondering what’s on his mind.
It’s something you ask him and there's a beat of silence before he answers.
“There’s a lot of things I think about,” he says. “Most times I don’t know how to make sense of them or express them so I just draw whatever I feel like. They’re mostly figures and structures because they at least make sense to me even if my feelings don’t.”
“What about now? Do your feelings make sense?”
“A little bit,” he hums, but he assures you it’s not a bad thing. “You always felt familiar. I think that’s why I was so hesitant to get to know you and why I felt like I had to keep my distance. It wasn’t right to feel that way for my assistant. I know now why that was. We crossed paths a long time ago and I guess we made each other feel something that we couldn’t find in others or that we couldn’t find ourselves. It’s familiar but it’s all new. Isn’t it contradictory?”
“Maybe. But it also could be that we felt something like that before and we lost it along the way. And we met again and so we’re feeling it again, but in a different way,” you try to explain. “Familiar but new. Do you doubt it?”
“Not at all,” he shakes his head. “I just couldn’t help but think about it because this version of myself feels different but it’s still me.”
“I get you. I’m not really like this, either. I’m not fond of affection. I’m not this giggly or this… honest or this bold. I’m terrified of many things so I’m also not this brave but you… you bring all that out of me, Jungkook. And it feels really good.”
“I’m not this honest, too. I don’t know where my words come from,” he chuckles.
“I was about to say that you’re able to express your feelings just fine,” you smile.
“That’s barely scratching the surface,” he says. “There’s still a lot I don’t know how to say.”
Regret is one of them, Jungkook thinks. And guilt and fear and an overwhelming joy and clarity that he can’t fully express. There’s still hesitation somehow but vulnerability, too. There’s a feeling of inadequacy and a desire to give you everything he can.
“Me, too,” you sigh. “We can always just keep showing it to each other in different ways. I know that’s not always easy, but we can… we can keep trying. I held so much of what I felt for months and I’m just glad I don’t have to do that anymore.”
“I held back for a year,” he blurts, surprising you. Your questioning eyes urge him to continue. “I… I thought you were pretty. And you put me in my place, you’re honest and caring, you’re so good at what you do, you’re… someone I wanted to be around, even if it didn’t seem like it. And I’ll always be sorry for how I treated you.”
“I have a lot of shortcomings, too, Jungkook,” you admit. “I judged you before I met you because you never smiled during the times I saw you. And then I constantly compared you to Hoseok and I shouldn’t have.”
“Well, look at me now. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled this much,” he chuckles. “But it’s okay. We… we were getting used to each other.”
“We were. And I… I like seeing you smile. There would be nights when I’d fall asleep thinking about it,” you confess.
“Here I thought I was the only one doing that,” he laughs.
“We’re so ridiculous,” you laugh back. “We’ve said too much. Now we can kiss.”
“You like doing that, huh?” He smirks, pulling you to sit on top of him now.
You shift on his lap and find a position that has your heart racing. You moan when his hands guide you in grinding against his slowly hardening length. And he watches you move before his eyes flit to meet yours, the desire heightening and the tension building.
“I do, very much,” you whisper, bending down to graze your nose against his before you kiss him.
It starts off tender but with the feel of him underneath you and his tongue amorously entangling with yours, it gets rough soon enough. You’re thankful that you’re seated closer to the door, leaving you less exposed than if you were near the railings. It’s enough privacy that he’s able to sneak his hand under your scrunched up dress without you minding, and you moan louder when he pulls your bra so he could flick your nipple that’s clearly screaming to be touched.
You return the favor, untucking his shirt so you could touch his chest, too. It reminds you of how you’d mapped this out last night, the tautness of it making you imagine all the ways you could pleasure him there. But you settle with your nails grazing against his smooth torso this time, knowing you have all of tonight and perhaps tomorrow to do it.
“Fuck,” he mumbles against your lips. “Baby, we’re gonna have to take this inside,” he says, although he doesn’t stop nor let you go. He continues to kiss you and drag his hands all over your back.
“We should,” you say, not stopping either.
It takes a few more nibbles on each other’s lips before you finally pull away, heaving in pleasure and wanting more. But you remove yourself from him before you get into it again. Walking back inside, he surprises you with another squeeze of your ass, prompting you to turn to him.
“You like doing that, huh?” You repeat his words.
“I do, very much,” he hums. He hugs you from behind and says, “this, too,” as he nuzzles your neck.
You only laugh in response but deep down, there’s this warmth you feel at how much affection he’s giving you and how much you’re accepting and returning it. You weren’t big on intimacy with your exes. You weren’t the type to hold their hand or cling to them or caress them outside of sex. They weren’t natural for you, and you suppose those kinds of acts required more openness and emotional closeness that you didn’t feel for them.
But with Jungkook, it’s as if it’s all you want to do, and it seems to be the same for him. You didn’t realize how holding his hand could be so assuring, or how feeling him wrap around you could relieve you of your tiredness, or how kissing him could make time stop yet you still feel there’s not enough of it when you’re with him.
And as he stands by the stove, pan frying dumplings for your appetizer while the pork continues to boil, all you want to do is watch him be.
You’ve always admired him for his dedication to his craft. You’ve sat through countless meetings, watched him draft blueprints and plans and present them, and listened to him put together ideas and designs. He’s creative, rational, and very smart, and it always impressed you how much technical knowledge he has. He always had such confidence in his abilities and that also made him very attractive to you.
But seeing him in a domestic setting in his casual clothes while cooking your dinner ignites something else within you. It’s this desire to see and experience all sides of him, and to be welcomed in every nook of his big heart.
He arranges the dumplings on a plate and mixes the dipping sauce, then places the dish on the counter for both of you to enjoy. He takes a piece, blows on it, then feeds it to you, and you laugh to yourself because this is something that you used to tell Hajoon that you could do on your own so he doesn’t have to. But with Jungkook doing it now, he triggers a swarm of butterflies in your belly that has you giggling.
He just smiles, the warmth in his eyes telling you that this is something he wants to do for you and you let him. He’s told you he wants to take care of you and you want that, too. You want to show him that you can do it as well.
Jungkook gets a bowl and starts making the sauce while he boils the buckwheat noodles. It’s something he came up with one late evening, adding perilla oil and egg yolk to the different condiments he had on stock. You feed him dumplings while he mixes the ingredients, which he eventually pours over the noodles then sprinkles seaweed on top of it. It looks creamy and delicious, and partnered with the boiled pork that he plates on a wooden board, your mouth starts to water.
It’s all surprisingly delicious, as you tell him that you didn’t think that just putting a bunch of sauces together would create something that good. You enjoy dinner over beer and then insist that you’ll clean up while he takes a bath.
It’s an hour later when you exit his bathroom, your heart skipping a beat at seeing him sitting on the bed, his back across the frame with the covers over his legs while he scrolls through his phone. He doesn’t have a shirt on, leaving his toned upper body in full display for you to stare at. You’ve already seen this last night; ran your hands all over them, even, but somehow you know it’ll always take your breath away.
He looks up when he senses you’re back, and he smiles seeing you donned in one of his oversized shirts. He likes you in his clothes. There’s something so domestic about it, even if he’ll end up taking them off of you anyway.
And that’s what he does, as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed while you remain standing in front of him. He caresses the sides of your thighs while he looks up at you, before pulling up your shirt that you help him remove.
You giggle when his lips immediately plant themselves on your torso, where he kisses and sucks the soft plane of flesh that has you moaning in pleasure. His hands travel around - kneading your ass, sliding up then fondling your breasts, before they’re removing your underwear and then cupping your bare cunt.
“Jungkook, baby,” you whine, feeling the sensation all over your body. “Want you, please.”
It’s the words he loves hearing from you, knowing the desire comes from somewhere deep. It’s because you’ve allowed him to a place that no one’s ever been to before, and it’s a place he wants to stay in for as long as you’ll let him.
And he takes it to heart. He wants to feel you feel good; he wants to hear it, to breathe it, to let your pleasure course through his body and let it linger, and that’s the only way he’ll feel good. It’s not just about chasing his own high like it used to be. With you, it’s always more.
He switches places with you, lays you on the edge of the bed while he kneels on the floor for that angle that lets him taste all of you. He laps you up and he feels your clit pulsate against his tongue, your breathy curses complementing the way your body screams for him. He increases the pressure to build you up then slows down to prolong it.
You seek him. Your hands pull him forward, your cunt thrusts against his face, you yell out his name, and when you come, his lips are what you want all over you, all over again.
You’re eager. The short second it takes for him to stand up, you’re pulling his boxers down and stroking his length; you’re swallowing him whole before he could even catch a breath. But it’s everything he wants, as your warmth coats his aching cock and he pushes into you, hearing your obscene sounds as you take him in.
“You feel so good,” he grunts, your tongue swirling around his slit. “Fuck, baby, just like that.”
He manages to open his eyes, and the sight of you eager to please him sends shivers down his spine. You fondle his balls, you play with your breast, you thrust against nothing while you moan with your mouth full of him. He softens for a while, tucking the damp strands of hair behind your ear, before he pulls away then guides you to flip over with your hands and knees on the bed.
You’re able to take a breath while he puts on his condom, but you're already dazed, your mind completely hazy from everything that Jungkook makes you feel.
The way he fills you up is heavenly. He hits your deepest spot, and the pace of his movement has him grazing every inch of your walls. He pushes your waist down with his every thrust, making both of you feel the sensation in a mind-numbing way.
Your knees are trembling but you don’t mind. Your knuckles are probably turning white from how hard you’re gripping his sheets but it’s your only anchor for now. Your neck is straining and you’re breathless as he relentlessly bucks his hip against you but you don’t want him to stop.
He switches it up, both his hands on your waist now to keep it steady while he drags himself in and out of you. You clench around him and push against his movements, and it has him moaning curses with your name. His pace becomes erratic, and that’s how you know he’s close.
“Touch yourself, baby,” he instructs you. “Come with me. Fuck, fuck, I want you to come.”
You do as you’re told, reaching down to stroke your clit while he pounds you from behind. And when you hear his deep breaths and a prolonged moan, you quicken your pace until you’re coming once again.
He pants, all the energy being drained out of him, but you still feel him gently kiss your shoulders, then your spine, then your ass cheeks before he lays in bed next to you.
He breathes heavily but he manages a soft smile that mirrors yours, and all you want to do is wrap him in your arms until you both fall asleep.
“Sex just good?” He teasingly asks.
“Were you trying to make a point?” You cock an eyebrow.
“Maybe,” he huffs.
You shift your position, your arm now supporting your body as you lay on your side. Your hand traces his bare torso, which still rises and falls from the ordeal, and he hums in satisfaction.
“Did you like that?” You whisper in his ear, biting your lip in anticipation of his answer.
“Uh-huh,” he breathes out. “Fuck, you feel so good. You take me so well, baby. That was just…”
“I want to keep making you feel good, Jungkook,” you moan, liking how he’s at a loss for words. “And I want you to keep fucking me like that.”
Your vulgar words contrast the tender way you graze your nose against his neck, and it somehow makes his mind even more hazy. You’re everything he wants, and he’ll do everything to keep you next to him.
“I will,” he promises, turning to his side to face you. “I’ll do that and more.”
And he does, as he cleans you up and tucks you under the covers with his arms around your body. You’re cradled in his, and the clarity you feel after such a mind-numbing experience is so satisfying.
You suppose this is what intimacy is - feeling that high and then landing on a soft field of everything beautiful, and you decide that this is the only place you’ll ever want to be in. Jungkook smiles at you and you just know he feels the same way you do.
You wake up with Jungkook next to you this time, your limbs entangled with his under the comforts of his soft blanket. Your eyes flutter open and you see him propped up on his tattooed arm, smiling at you.
“Were you just watching me sleep?” You mumble.
“Maybe,” he teasingly shrugs. “It’s nice to see you resting well.”
“It’s your sheets,” you say, earning you a laugh.
“Guess I know what to spoil you with next time,” he winks.
“What time is it? And why aren’t you working out?” You ask, knowing it’s how he always starts his day.
“11,” he answers. “I’m surprised I didn’t wake up earlier. But when I did I just thought to sleep in with you.”
“Hmm, good decision,” you grunt, your mind still half asleep but awake enough to appreciate his half naked form next to you. You scoot closer and hug him, causing him to lay flat on his back while he wraps his arm around your bare body. “This is better than a workout.”
“Well, I kinda had mine last night,” he giggles.
And he’s not wrong. After he tucked you in bed, you spent another hour or so just talking and cuddling and that led to another round of him pounding into you from the side, and then another one with him over you. He went so hard that he had to take another shower at 3 in the morning and he’s probably done his arm and core exercises for today.
You don’t even know how you managed to withstand all that, but you did, and you loved every second of it. You loved how he bit his lip in pleasure and how his neck veins popped out as he pounded into you intensely. You basked in his whimpered sounds and the kisses he showered you with as he came down.
And now you’re in his embrace, curled against him. You'd do this all day if you could.
“But this is nice,” he hums, as he strokes your back while also combing your hair with his fingers.
He kisses the top of your head while you moan in satisfaction, a kind of soft pleasure that relaxes you, that makes you feel like you’re floating but also enveloped in pure warmth. That’s what hugging Jungkook feels like, as his toned but smooth arms wrap around you. His rough fingers tenderly roam your body, and it eases your tired being; nuzzling his neck, you feel like you could fall asleep again.
But you’re quite hungry and you assume that so is he, so you slowly disentangle yourself from him and say that you’ll be cooking lunch when he whines.
“I told you I’ll make something for you this time,” you say, appeasing him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Fine,” he concedes, stating that he’ll go over the interview questions that a few reporters have sent over for him to answer while you’re cooking.
He follows you to wash up in the bathroom - then gives you a deeper kiss right after - and then to the kitchen. He sits on the stool by the counter while you cook rice and seafood pajeon, something you boasted about last night.
“Babe, you think you could help me with the questions?” He asks, catching you off guard with the pet name that he uses in a different context for the first time.
“Sure,” you hum. “Read them out loud.”
So he does, and you spend much of the hour going through them and sipping your coffee, with him pulling you for a hug when you wander to his side.
You eat lunch while watching sports highlights on TV, then you spend the afternoon laughing over the variety TV show episodes that you’ve missed these past weeks.
It’s 5PM when you both start dressing up for dinner that he’ll treat you to for your first official date, he’d said, insisting that he likes eating at nice places. He has you to share the experience with this time, and he doesn’t want you to worry about expenses of any kind. He wants to eat at your favorite noodle houses, too, and that’s a plan for another day.
You have on a skirt and top outfit that thankfully matches your new pumps. Once you finish putting on your makeup, you head to Jungkook’s walk-in closet to check on him, your throat drying up at seeing him in an all-black denim ensemble. He’s sexy enough as it is, with the skinny jeans accentuating his ass and his thick thighs. But when the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows and when the buttons are undone just up to his chest to show the tank top he’s wearing underneath, sexy becomes too simplistic. Even more so when you spot the silver chain around his neck again, simple and classic but definitely dangerous.
He turns to you and takes in your look before he smirks. But just as you expect him to compliment you or even kiss you, he instead reaches out for your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours when you take it.
“Let’s go,” he says, leading you out.
He doesn’t say much on the way to the car. He just gazes at you then smiles when you look at him. It’s during the drive when he kisses your hand, surprising you, and there’s that warmth that you feel again. You listen to the soft sounds of the radio this time, sharing in the silence the way that you used to, and it’s far from uncomfortable, especially with him thumbing your hand that he’s not letting go of.
You make it to the restaurant where you’re seated by the window, able to appreciate the setting of the sun. The food is delicious, with the variety of tender meats causing you to silently moan at how good it is. There’s an array of dishes that Jungkook orders, and you spend the rest of dinner talking about your favorite food and the other places you want to try.
Satisfied from the meal, you both head to the Arts Center. You know you’ll have another time to fully explore. You’ll remember how the areas looked before renovation and you’ll look on in pride at how different they are now. There’ll be opportunities for you to check every exhibition and watch performances here. When the Center hosts some of the international film festival events in two months, you’ll definitely attend and pay attention to the halls and other spaces. You’ll come during the day and appreciate the light coming through the windows, and you’ll be able to gaze at the art installations outdoors.
But tonight, you want your focus to be on the children’s library, the one that Jungkook had built for you.
The Center closes late on weekends so you have time to savor it. You want to remember the feeling of being inside it with him, as if you’re making him part of the memory, as if you’re including him in the best moments of your childhood.
You finally enter the grand library, appreciating the details and the grandness of it. You ask Jungkook where the archive section is now, and what the process of moving it was like.
“I had to incorporate it in the main area instead of separating it,” he explains. “Yoongi and I found a corner to establish its presence and then scattered the pieces beyond that, putting them in glass enclosures around the desks and on the walls. I think it’s better that way; visitors become intrigued and want to learn more, so they could go around and end up exploring more of the library.”
“That’s strategic,” you say, appeased that there were gains in making the change. You stand at the entrance of the children’s space and then to him. “So, what made you decide to do this?”
He talks about his late afternoon jog one weekend and discovering a park that reminded him of the playground that his father built for him. He tells you about all the apologies his old man couldn’t make, and all the words left unsaid that Jungkook realized had held them together despite the distance and the detachment.
“I thought about all the times that you needed someone and I happened to be there,” he continues as he follows you around inside. “And then the times when I wasn’t or no one was. I don’t ever want you to feel alone. I thought that if I’m not in your life anymore, I could at least build you something that would make you happy, that would protect you, the way you said your old neighborhood library made you feel.”
His words leave you speechless. You suppose that for someone not good with them, he finds the right ones when he needs to. You were overwhelmed with emotions the first time you saw this, and you couldn’t fully grasp how he could make something like this for you.
That playground mattered to him, the way your old library did. Only he would understand how a space or a structure could comfort you, how it could take your fears away, and how that feeling could stay with you for a long time. He wanted you to continue feeling that whether you found your way back to each other or not, and now that you have, you feel that happiness and that safety even more.
You run your fingers across the murals then sit on the couch with the fluffy teddy bear next to you. The more you look around, the more you realize that this isn’t just meant for children. The seating areas are big enough for adults, so is the activity space at the back. It’s where those with child-like hearts and minds can stay - to reminisce perhaps, or to make new memories. You think you’ll be doing both.
“Is it close to how your library looked?” He asks, as you both walk past the shelves and you scan the books they have.
“Jungkook, that was a semi-rundown library that used to be someone’s house. It had chipped wallpapers and creaking wooden floors,” you giggle. “This is definitely much prettier but I see so much of the old one in here. The warm lights, all the colors, the different areas to read and draw and color. The paper dolls,” you squeal. “It’s… familiar but new, just like everything with you is. I… I don’t know what else to say.”
“A thank you is fine,” he smiles, pulling you close to him. You’re behind one of the shelves, and with no one else here this late Sunday evening, he wraps his arms around your waist. “I wouldn’t mind a kiss, too.”
“You deserve more than all that,” you whisper, kissing him softly. “Thank you, Jungkook. I’ll be spending weekends here. Or when I have a tough day at work. Or when you’re away and I’m missing you.”
“Good. That way I know that when you’re down, you have somewhere to go so you could feel better. And less alone.”
That’s all he hopes, after all - that on days when he can’t be what you need, there’s a place that he built that will make you feel better.
He treasures your smile and the way your eyes shine as you go through the picture books that have their own row of shelves. He beams at how beautiful you look being enamored with the space that reminds you of the best parts of your childhood. And he softens when you look at him with so much adoration, words seemingly not enough to express how you feel.
You don’t say much as you walk back to the car though. When he drives to his penthouse, you hold his hand. But something inside you stirs so you guide his palm to your thigh, smiling when he caresses it. He sees you bite your bottom lip at the act, and though he’s tempted to do more, he decides that tracing your skin is what he wants to do for now.
The feel of Jungkook touching any part of your body is electrifying. He ignites a kind of desire in you that you’ve never felt before, whether it’s simply holding your hand or stroking the inside of your thigh.
Being back in the library made you feel many things. It brought back memories and made you imagine all the new ones you’ll make. It also filled you with an overwhelming need for him, as you think of all the ways you could show him your appreciation. Including one that you could do tonight.
So after making it past the door of his apartment, and after briefly watching his impeccable figure walk down his hallway, you don’t hold back. He turns around and you don’t even hear what he asks. You just head towards him and kiss him.
You kiss him hard and deep, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him as close as you can get him, even as you guide him towards his living room, knowing where you want him. He moans when you bite his lower lip, your fingers desperately gripping his shirt now as you want more.
You pull away to catch your breath, your intense eyes saying everything you want to do to him. He caresses your cheek but only briefly, as his thumb traces your lips before pushing it past them. The sight of you sucking his finger - gentle at first before you do it desperately - has his cock throbbing, impatient to feel your mouth wrapped around it.
“Fuck. Good girl,” he says under his breath, as you lick his thumb teasingly to tell him what you want to do.
You kiss him again, your fingers now eagerly undoing his buttons. He removes his shirt then you pull his tank top off him before you push him to sit on the couch. You stand before him and stare at him shamelessly, as he sits comfortably and stares back at you. His hands are behind his head now, with his taut arms in full display for you to salivate over.
But it’s his chest that you want to pay attention to rigjt now, all perfectly toned and every bit breathtaking.
“Take your clothes off,” he says before you can make your move.
“Is that an order, Mr. Jeon?” You breathe out, knowing how the name affects him.
“Yes,” he huffs. “An urgent one.”
You smirk as he plays along, and you take your time in undressing. You watch his eyes move with you, his breaths deepening now as you bare yourself in front of him.
“Don't touch yourself. I’ll do that,” you instruct. “And that’s not a suggestion.”
He chuckles in response but he seems to enjoy it, relaxing in his position. You take that as your cue, settling on his lap and then mapping his torso with your hands as you lick and suck his neck. He angles it to give you more space, and he hisses when you take advantage.
Your mouth travels south, leaving kisses on his collarbone and sternum before twirling your tongue around his pert nipples that are aching for attention. He starts to pant and you decide to take your time, wanting his pleasure to build up so you could hear him beg for you this time. You moan as you nibble his buds, but your own pleasure builds, too, and with your hand feeling his thick length underneath those jeans, you suddenly can’t wait any longer.
“You like that, baby?” You whisper in his ears. “You like it when I do that?”
“Fuck, yes,” he wails. “Fuck, baby. That’s so good.”
With a few more kisses towards his hips, you move as well, now finding yourself kneeling on the floor and quickly undoing his belt. He lets you do all the work, and you don’t mind. You like how his chest rises and falls in anticipation, and when you finally free his cock, you let out an obscene sound that even you’ve never heard before.
You’ve been graced with this scene these past days, but it still leaves a lump in your throat. He’s thick and veiny and everything you want to taste and have inside you. You pull off his jeans until he’s bare as well. You stroke him once and the moan he makes is all you need.
With your thumb on his slit, you lick up his shaft until you’re swallowing him whole, his tip hitting your throat that it makes you groan. The vibration has him grunting and it pushes you, so you start moving your mouth and hand up and down his length, with your tongue swirling over his tip and all the other sensitive parts of him.
Your free hand explores. You stroke his leg and then brush your fingers over his inner thighs. You caress his torso when you go deep and bask in the way he breathlessly curses, over and over again.
Needing a quick breather, you let your hands do their work. But Jungkook takes this chance to bend over and capture your mouth in his. He kisses you fervently, sucking the air out of you and you don’t really mind running out of it, not when he tastes as good as he does, when he’s as desperate for you as you are for him. He pulls on your hair gently, slowly tightening his grip when your kiss gets more intense.
He eventually pulls away, leaving you free to tease and suck his cock once again. He moans continuously, cursing under his breath once you let him guide your head to take all of him in. His obscene sounds make it all worth it, especially once you feel his body tighten.
“Fuck, baby I’m close,” he whimpers. “Fuck, I–I need to come inside you, fuck.”
You slowly remove yourself from him, but your hand remains wrapped around his length. You look at him with your glassy eyes, desperate to feel every inch of him possible.
“Come inside me, please,” you whisper. “I want to feel you come inside me. I need…”
You pant, your eyes telling him what you really mean. You don’t want any more barriers. You want to feel him drag against your walls, to release his warmth and fill you up completely. You’ve mentioned being clean and so has he; you said in passing how you’re on implants, too. He looks at you and nods in understanding, just like all the times that you’ve spoken to each other through your gazes. With the way he heaves, he seems to want it just as much as you.
He pulls you towards him and guides you to sit on his lap. He strokes his cock and drags his tip through your folds, teasing you before slowly pushing it inside you. He feels even more immaculate like this, and your walls embrace him immediately, as if he’s always meant to be there. You get on your knees as you position yourself to ride him, and your gentle movements follow a pace that has you keening, especially when he starts licking your pert nipples that’s been needing his attention.
You grind against him with his hands kneading your ass to guide you. You feel him deep, and it has you breathless and wanting more.You sit up and wrap your arms around his neck for support as he pounds on you from below, and with his tight grip around your waist and his mouth sucking your breasts, you start to feel hazy.
“You feel so good around me, shit,” he moans. “Fuck, baby. You’re so perfect for me, fuck.”
He continues his thrusts and you’re so lost in the overstimulation. Your body starts to shake as you chase the high, letting it all overwhelm you.
“Baby, I’m gonna come,” you whimper. “I’m—”
Your orgasm is a loud crash, and you feel it linger. You feel your essence coat him; you feel the slick drip out of you and stick to your bodies, mixed with the sweat from all the work of building each other up.
He curses again as he feels the wetness all over his cock, and it’s heavenly. Feeling you like this does something to him, and he wants you to do it again.
So he pounds even harder, not giving you much time to calm down. You moan in response, scratching his back as you hold onto him tightly while he releases all his energy onto pleasuring you and him. He slows his pace and moves in circular motions before he lays you on your back. Your eyes are glassy. Your mouth knows only his name. Your hair is damp and you’re panting. And you look absolutely beautiful as you beg for him to make you come again, and for him to finally come inside you.
Watching you feel all that he can give is what he needs. With his arms propped on your sides to support him, he goes hard and deep. He’s been somewhat gentle these first few times, and he knows that that drives you wild. But he also knows that going a bit rough would make you lose your mind even more, so that’s what he does.
He pins your arms down as he slowly pushes inside you.
“You like it like this, yeah?” He pants. “You like it when I reach this deep?”
“Yes, baby. Yes, please. Please don’t stop,” you whimper, this view of him with his damp hair and his silver chain hanging over you making you crazy.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head with how good he feels, especially when he hits you at an angle that makes your body come alive but also numb, and it’s a feeling you can’t get enough of.
He hums in satisfaction, choosing now to suck on your neck while he continues his assault on your pussy. He licks the shell of your ear and whispers how good you make him feel.
“You take me so well, baby. Such a good girl, yeah?” He grunts. “Fuck, you’re so good.”
You can only moan in response, unable to form proper words now. And he senses it, with your mouth hanging open and your erratic breathing escaping it.
He straightens himself, knowing what he needs to do. So he plays with your clit while his other movements continue, and that’s how you find your voice again. He quickens his pace, his thumb doing its work on your most sensitive spot while your walls pulsate around his throbbing cock. Your legs start to shake until you’re wailing in pleasure, screaming his name as you orgasm another time. He knows enough to focus on kissing you, swallowing your sounds as you come down.
But you want him to reach his peak this time, so you tell him to keep going, to find his spot so he could fill you up this time. He spreads your legs open in response, giving him a view that makes him throb even more. It’s what he needs, as he focuses on his pleasure like you told him. He bucks his hips, finding his pace that quickens then slows down then quickens again, until his erratic movements signal that he’s close, too.
“Yes, baby,” you urge him. “You’re gonna fill me up so good. I want it so bad. Come for me, please baby.”
He does a few more thrusts before he’s spilling his warm seed inside you, with him moaning out curses every second. His cum drips from your hole but he catches it with his tip, pushing it back inside you until so is he. He stays there for a while as you both catch your breaths, with him collapsing to your side while you move along with him. You can still feel his cock pulsate against your walls, and it causes you to moan. You’ve never felt that before, and it’s another intimate thing you share with him, as he wraps his arm around you and languidly kisses you after.
“That was amazing,” he breathes out.
“It was,” you hum, smiling at him looking spent and content. “I like you here. Stay a while, please.”
He chuckles at your request but he doesn’t mind it either. It’s intimate, as all things with you beyond sex are. He just wants to stay close to you, to hear your soft breaths and revel in the feel of you, sweat and slick included.
But as much as he could fall asleep here, he knows he shouldn’t. He pulls away and lets you head to the bathroom to clean up. He follows soon after and he catches you on the sink, removing your makeup then turning to him once you hear him arrive.
“My body’s kinda sore,” he says. “Do you wanna have a bath?”
“I wouldn’t say no to that,” you smile. “But we can’t stay long. You have work tomorrow so you need to sleep soon.”
“Alright,” he nods, walking to the bathtub now. “I’ll try to keep my hands off of you, then.”
Jungkook doesn’t. And neither do you, even when you both head to the shower to rinse yourselves.
You curl in his arms right when he lays next to you, and despite all the intensity from earlier, you know that this will always be your favorite part - his fingers tracing patterns on your back, his lips constantly finding yours, and his eyes telling you all the other things that words or actions can’t say. He’s your safe place. You think from now on, he’ll always be.
You wake up to your alarm the next morning, the ringing pulling out a groan from you; you haven’t needed it this past week and you suddenly miss just sleeping in.
But it’s Monday, the start of a new week. Jungkook will be off to work and you’ll have to go back to your own apartment and start preparing for your own job that will start next week. You manage to get yourself off the bed and his soft sheets and go to the bathroom to wash up.
Once you finish, you head out and immediately hear his grunts from where you are. You know he’s in the middle of his workout, so you peek inside the gym, finally shameless to be doing it this time. He’s shirtless doing some arm exercise on his equipment, but he has his back turned on you so you stare at it instead, instantly feeling hot at the view of his broad shoulders and slim waist. His muscles contract with every movement and you remember how that felt when you held onto them last night to keep you grounded as he pounded into you from every angle.
His set finishes and he turns around and sees you, donned in his shirt and standing by the door. He moves to another machine, takes a seat, and starts doing a shoulder press while gazing back at you. Half of you is tempted to sit on his lap and kiss him stupid, but the other half wants to stay rooted on your spot to watch him.
The latter wins and you stand there, thighs squeezing at the sight and sound of him, as he grunts with his every push of the weights. His eyes don’t move away from you and you just know he’s enjoying this, too, especially when he smirks once your mouth slowly opens.
“Enjoying yourself there?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You like how I look? How I sound?”
“Oh, shush,” you frown at being teased. “You’re overdoing it. You’re not that loud when you exercise.”
“So you listen to me, huh?” He smirks again, walking towards you now. “How did that make you feel?”
“I used to come here every morning, Jungkook. I couldn’t not hear you,” you cross your arms. “And I just looked away.”
“You’re not looking away now.”
“How can I when you’re teasing like that,” you scrunch your eyebrows.
“Is it working?”
“Were you always this cocky?” You laugh now.
“No,” he chuckles. “Just now. Only because I see your jaw dropping and your thighs squeezing.”
“And what are you gonna do about it?”
“Oh, don’t challenge me like that,” he warns, caging you against the wall.
He eyes your lips but he bends down towards your chest instead, biting your pert nipple that’s gotten so obvious under his cotton shirt. He nibbles on it briefly before swirling his tongue around it. You hiss, feeling the sensation all over your body with that small movement, and it’s what urges him to face you again.
“Cute,” he whispers.
He licks your mouth, prompting you to open it and let him inside, and your moan at the taste of him is immediate. Your hands move on their own, pulling him by his neck then caressing his chest like it’s natural. You start to feel the dampness in your underwear and pull away, knowing that you can’t fall into this early in the morning, and not when he has a job to go to.
“Jungkook, you have work,” you say, hating that you have to cut this moment short. “If we start then…”
“I know,” he sighs, given how you both can’t seem to stop once you get into it. “I’ll just do a bit more and then wash up. You can still watch if you like.”
“Tempting, but I’ll be making us breakfast.”
“And what’s on the menu?”
“Fried rice,” you smile.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Now I don’t need to hide how much I enjoy that.”
You giggle and let him go then head to the kitchen where you work on making enough for tomorrow, in case he wants to have it again before he leaves. You brew coffee and work around just like you used to, but with a bit more freedom this time. You hum while you cook and prepare in excitement. You’ve learned that you like doing things for him, and this is one way that you could spoil him.
Jungkook exits his gym after some ab workouts and stretching, his heart racing in a different way when he sees you in his kitchen again. It brings him back to this past year of his weekday mornings and his favorite routine.
But you’re not in your work outfit this time, and it won’t be stolen glances or comfortable silence you’ll be sharing. There’ll be more, and though this won’t be the norm, given your own job that you’ll be starting next week, Jungkook decides this is another favorite of his. He hopes for more moments of domestic bliss where it’s just you and him in his home, sharing meals and hugs and kisses in between.
He gives himself some time before he calls your attention, wanting to savor this first before he faces a busy week, one he’ll have to go through without you.
“Enjoying yourself there?” You tease this time.
“Yes,” he chuckles. “It’s just… nice to start a work week with you again.”
You smile softly at him, knowing that it hurt him to be without this for weeks. You show him the bowl of fried rice you’ve made, and even you’re salivating. Perhaps it’s also because of the man standing in front of you, and the sight of him like this just never fails to take your breath away.
“It’s nice to start with this, too,” you gesture towards the food. “It’s a new recipe but I think you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I will,” he smiles back, following you to the table and sitting next to you.
He hums in satisfaction after the first spoonful. You watch him as he eats, endeared by the way he’s enjoying the dish despite looking like a whole meal himself.
You both finish and you clean up while he takes a bath, quickly dressing yourself then heading to his closet. It’s no longer your responsibility but it’s a task you secretly enjoyed, so you put out a navy blue ensemble for Jungkook and set aside a few outfits that he can pack for his trips this week.
He walks in with a towel wrapped around his waist, and you stop yourself again from wanting to do anything. It’s hard when he looks as good as he does at any time of the day, but it’s something you’ll just have to get used to. You get to be around while he puts on his clothes now, and he doesn’t seem to mind at all, given his teasing smile and soft laughter.
You stand in front of him and fix his necktie. His eyes flit from your fingers to your face, liking that he’s able to do that this time.
“You know you don’t have to do this,” he says. “But… I like that you are.”
“It’s intimate, isn’t it? Dressing someone?” You glance at him.
You’ve done something similar in the past, like when you fixed the creases of his suit or the time he put his jacket over you. They were so simple but they stuck with you, and something in you stirs as you do this for him now.
“It is,” he smiles back, nibbling his lower lip.
You help him wear the coat then fix his tie again. You meet his eyes and then his lips before exiting the room, your gazes saying more than words could. He picks up your bags then you both walk to the car so he could drive you home before he heads to work.
“I’ll see you tonight?” You turn to him.
“Of course. I’ll get to you at 6, is that okay?”
“Yes, I’ll make dinner,” you smile.
He lets you go after a kiss and you head inside your apartment with all your freshly washed clothes and new shoes. It’s a nice feeling being able to go through them and then fixing them in your closet. It’s nice having this time for yourself, too. While you like being with Jungkook, you know it’s important to not forget how it’s like to be on your own.
You do your chores for the rest of the morning while talking to Soomin and Jimin on the phone, as you’re finally able to tell them most of what’s happened since Friday night. They’re supportive, as they often are, and they seem to be looking forward to hanging out with him like you suggested.
You go out for lunch at a small noodle house before settling at a nice cafe where you read the book that Namjoon gave you. At mid-afternoon, you head to the supermarket to buy your groceries for the next two weeks, including tonight’s dinner. Thinking about what you’ll make for him was easy; you just hope you’ll do it justice, considering that it’s one of Jungkook’s favorite things to eat.
You don’t hear much from him during the day. He messaged you during lunch time just to say he was eating out with Yoongi then asked how you were. He didn’t respond after a few texts, which you didn’t mind. You always felt that he wasn’t the texting type, which is good because you aren’t, either. There’s at least that level of understanding and expectation on both sides. You know of his tendency to hyper focus; he’s also a very busy man, which is why you know that when he’s with you, he’s focused on just you and nothing else, which is really what you prefer.
He calls when he’s on the way to you and before you know it, he’s ringing the doorbell and you’re being greeted by the said man who still looks impeccable after a long day. He hands you flowers and a bottle of champagne.
“You didn’t have to but this is lovely,” you smile at him.
You put the bouquet on a vase then place it on the coffee table. After taking his seat, you serve the dish that you’ve spent the past few hours making, wanting to make sure that the meat is tender and flavorful. The beef looks so soft and the aroma is filling your apartment. You watch him after the first bite, your heart soaring when he smiles and hums in satisfaction.
“This is so good,” he says. “Reminds me so much of the beef brisket from that restaurant near the office.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted. That dish is your favorite,” you explain. “You order it often. It was also the first dish you ever bought for me.”
He stops his movements and looks at you questioningly.
“It was after the first board report submission,” you recall. “You instructed me to buy the team lunch from that restaurant and this is what I ordered because you always did. I… I treat it as the first meal you got for me and I wanted to try making it for you.”
Jungkook remembers that day. You were surprised that he gave that instruction. You also made sure that the team enjoyed it and thanked him for it. He liked that you enjoyed it as well, but claiming that that was the first dish he got you is technically untrue. And he’s unsure if telling you the truth is a good idea, but he supposes it’s one he can share now.
“It was actually pork cutlets with curry,” he says, prompting you to look at him questioningly. “It was on my first day. I… I made you do so many things and you missed lunch.”
The memory comes back to you. He had you annotate documents and attend meetings and you were starving the whole day.
“Right. I stayed late that day and I think Yoongi got me dinner. How was that…”
You remember more. Yoongi had spoken with Jungkook before he left then came back with a rice bowl. Is it possible that—
“I asked him to get it for you and not say it was from me,” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts. “The pastries during the meeting, too. Those… those were the first things I bought for you, all because I was guilty about how I treated you that day.”
You see the sadness and apology in his eyes. You suppose with how you both started, it’s easy to fall into a cycle of feeling bad about what happened, forgiving, moving on, and then remembering something again. But maybe it’s necessary this time, as you both get to know each other and settle in this new relationship. Mistakes will come up, and it’s on both of you to assure each other that it’s all okay.
So that’s what you do, as you tell him you’re not upset when he asks if you are.
“I guess in a way, you’ve always looked out for me,” you smile at him.
“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” he sighs, wanting to be positive about it like you are.
But you don’t want to dwell on the past. You’ve been apologizing to each other for days and you know you’ll have to stop that at some point.
“You’ve been soft for me since the start, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him in an effort to lighten the mood.
“I was attracted to you from the beginning,” he admits. “You were nothing like I imagined and you kept proving me wrong. I’d zone out when you spoke to me, I’d hold my breath when you were close… so I detached myself from you and that hurt you in some ways. And I knew that was wrong so I fought the feelings and that made it worse.”
“What changed?”
“I hated seeing you have a hard time, whether it was because of me or not,” he says. “One moment it was out of guilt and then the next… it was just about wanting to see you happy and safe. And then wanting to see all of that up close.”
“You get to do that now,” you smile at him. “Happy, safe… that’s what I am.”
“Good. Me, too,” he smiles back.
You continue with your meal while he talks about his relatively quiet but busy day and you talk about yours. It’s nice being able to share mundane things that happened to you with someone who does the same.
The sadness in his eyes eventually disappears. He insists on doing the dishes this time and you both laugh as he navigates washing in the tiny sink. You sit on the couch with him, the sounds of the TV in the background merely white noise, and with your head on his chest and his fingers tracing patterns on your arm, you think that ending your days like this is a lot more peaceful and satisfying than being on your own.
“What time do you leave in the morning?” You ask.
“7,” he responds.
He’s got a busy week ahead - a trip to Incheon then Busan tomorrow to do some promotions of the Arts Center, and then he goes straight to Japan on Wednesday for meetings with culture and tourism ministers. He comes back on Friday evening, and that’s four days without you. It may sound silly, but that’s four days too long. He managed before though, but then again, he didn’t have much to look forward to after other than seeing you once he returned. Now, it’s that and so much more.
“I can’t believe that we just got together and now we have to do LDR,” he shakes his head.
This causes you to laugh. You angle your head and look at him, with your arms wrapped around his waist now.
“Wow, Mr. Jeon. I didn’t think you were that dramatic,” you tease.
He’d laugh back because he really does sound silly, but the way your soft eyes gaze at him makes him feel a little more sentimental. And definitely honest.
“Just wanna be with you, that’s all,” he shrugs.
“You’re clingy and needy and cheesy too,” you laugh, kissing his cheek after every word.
He groans and you’re endeared by how he pouts at you. He’s definitely been expressive about how he feels, but you’ll be apart for the next few days. You’ll be outside your little bubble of affection this time and now have to learn how to balance your relationship with every other responsibility you both have. But you want to assure him just like you hope he’d assure you.
You climb onto his lap, interlock your fingers with his, then smile at him.
“I like it because it’s you,” you whisper. “And I like you a lot. And I wanna be with you, too. But you have duties and so do I. So you’ll get through this week and do well in those appearances and meetings, and then I can meet you on Friday for dinner and spend the weekend together. Does that sound good?”
“It does,” he smiles back, kissing your hand that has your heart racing because of how tender he does it. “I’m not really uh, a texting kind of person, but let me know how you’re doing, okay? We could talk at night and you can tell me how your day went.”
“I will. And you can tell me, too.”
You nod in agreement and hug him. You’re flushed against his chest and there’s just so much comfort in this. You exhale a deep breath as you feel relaxed, especially when he starts to rub your back. It’s calming, until his hands slip underneath your shirt and his touch slowly rouses you. You feel his desire as he hugs you tightly, and now all you want is for those hands to touch everything else, and for yours to do the same.
You sit back up then pull him forward for a deep kiss, cupping his face and inhaling him, tasting him, feeling him. You slowly unknot his loose necktie, and you feel him smile against your lips, knowing exactly what comes next. You pull away and let him lean back, giving you the space to unbutton his dress shirt while you’re snug on top of his length, liking the bit of friction you feel while you expose more of him to you.
You reveal his torso, and he watches you admire him from this view. You’re stunning like this, especially with the desire for him painting your face. Your hands map out his body, and he tries to steady his breathing but to no avail. It’s only been a few days but he doesn’t think he’ll get over how your touch affects him anytime soon, not when it ignites something feral in him.
But he’ll take his time just like you seem to be doing. Even your kisses on his neck and chest are slow and tender, as if you’re savoring all this, knowing you’ll be without it for a few days. You’ll both have to be outside this bubble of safety while he’s away, and he supposes it’s the start of how things will be from now on. But he’s excited for it, if his week will start and end this way. It’s something he can now look forward to, and that carries with it excitement and relief.
Your lips trail south, the soft pecks being accompanied by your tongue and teeth doing more now. You start to rhythmically grind against his semi-hard length, and when you guide his hand under your shirt and on your breast, he lets out a low growl that has you biting your lip in anticipation.
It’s what does it for him, and soon enough, you’re both undressed, moaning each other’s names, and damp from sweat. He’s holding you in his arms by the end of it, both your chests still heaving and minds probably hazy. But this is what he wants with you - this feeling of passion and overwhelming desire, of a kind of intensity that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Or maybe even ever.
But he has to let you go, and when he does, there’s that comfort he didn’t think that letting you go would make him feel. He’ll go home knowing you’re thinking of him. He’ll go through his days knowing he’ll be hearing from you. And he’ll meet you eventually, knowing that it will be this same desire you’ll be sharing and expressing, and that’s definitely something he can’t wait to do again.
You’re a little disoriented when you wake up in your bed the next morning. It’s not soft sheets that you bury yourself into this time, but then again, the body soreness is quite familiar. It’s something you don’t mind though, not when you know the reason why.
It’s only been a few days but Jungkook just seems to know your body. He seems to really like it, too, with the way he takes his time kissing it, caressing it, and praising it. He knows just how to work his tongue on your most sensitive parts to make you reach your peak. He knows just how much strength to exert, or how deep he should go in what angle, and when to increase his pace or slow down. He knows just what to say, vulgar or otherwise, or when to look at you tenderly or as if he’ll devour you, or when to grip you tightly and when to hold you softly.
And he’d done all of that last night. While your tiny couch could only make you do so much, you both still knew what to do whether you were on top of him, on your knees, or under him.
It was definitely a good way to say goodbye, and he would’ve gone another round if it wasn’t for you convincing him that he had to go home so he could pack his things and be ready for an early trip. You don’t want him to be too tired then oversleep, and you’re glad that he didn’t.
You check your phone and see that he messaged you at 7:15 to say that he and Mr. Ri have already left and are on their way to Incheon. He’ll attend a meeting and then appear at an event before they take the long drive to Busan for another event where he’ll present the Arts Center and make a speech. He’ll spend the night there before an early morning flight to Tokyo. It’s the first of many post-opening promotions he’ll be doing, and you know there’ll be more of these business trips that you’ll have to get used to.
But you don’t mind being alone this time, not when you have your own preparations and rest to do, and not when you know that you’ll be hearing from him at the end of the day. There’s the weekend you’ll be looking forward to with him.
Your mom had reminded you during a brief call yesterday about making sure you preserve your independence and identity, and you tell her that you always had.
“Yes, because those relationships were different,” she said of your exes. “You did that because you didn’t want to share much of yourself with them. But with Jungkook, you are, and it’s also the first time. Just… make sure to hold onto the things that made you happy before him, and he should, too,” she advises. “Share them, but don’t forget them. Don’t lose what makes you, you.”
It’s wisdom from someone who’d gone through relationships herself, who’d loved and lost and loved again. And it’s a good reminder.
This is all new to you, and you suppose it’s easy to fall into this trap of dependence with your partner, of the honeymoon stage and the giddy, euphoric parts of romance. At the end of the day, Jungkook still has duties and you have a new path to take on. You’ll both have days of being too busy, too tired, maybe a bit frustrated, too. You’ll need to ground yourself in other ways and like your mom had said, not depend on the other person to always make things better, even if most days they could.
It’s the same thing that your next-door neighbor tells you when you decide to have lunch with her after she lures you with some grilled fish. She tells you about the encounter with Jungkook and you narrate how you got together. It may all seem too much, too soon and now that you’re apart from him, maybe it is. Maybe it’s also just all the emotions you both kept in finally being expressed.
And you think that maybe it’s also good that you have this time for yourself to remind you of all the other things you enjoy in life. Now you don’t have to treat them as substitutes for what you really desire because you already have that connection and intimacy you’ve been yearning for. You get to truly feel the joy of immersing yourself in your interests, and you suppose that’s one way to not lose yourself.
So you go back home and tend to your plants. You go to the theater and watch a local film and not feel like you’re escaping your life or anything this time. You bake cookies after your chicken in broth dinner because it’s something you’ve always wanted to try.
You share all these things with Jungkook later that evening while you’re on a video call with him, including what your mom and neighbor had said.
“I was a little down that you’ll be away but now I… I’m thinking I shouldn’t be,” you say. “I’ll always miss and think about you but I don’t want to feel like I miss myself when I’m with you. Am I making any sense?”
“You are,” he smiles on the screen. “It’s the same reason why you didn’t want me to miss my meeting with my father and cousin yesterday. I still have a role. Now that I’m with you, I feel like I’ll stop feeling like that weighs me down. It used to because all I was was tied to that title. I didn’t feel like I was anything else.”
You think about his words and how resigning felt liberating for you. Beyond feeling indebted, it’s clear to you that you felt stuck because it’s all you knew to do; being an assistant was all you knew how to be. It wasn’t just the stress or the pressure because you know every job you take will have those. In fact, you look forward to it in your new position. You realize that you like working, you like the hustle, you like the grind. But if it’s all you do, you lose the joy.
Now, you have a hand to hold and a warm body to wake up to. You have someone to share your days and joys and frustrations with. You have someone to laugh with and cry to. And so days on your own feel like much-needed time to enjoy things you prefer doing by yourself. And work could feel more challenging in a good way, pushing you to be better and seeing what else you could accomplish. Somehow, being with Jungkook makes you feel like there’s so much more you could do because at the end of the day, there’s someone to celebrate with, to share your thoughts with; there’s someone to cheer you on and support you.
You tell him all this and he seems to reflect on it as well.
“The councils were very impressed with the Arts Center,” he says after a while. “They said it’s a good complement to their efforts of promoting local artists because of the opportunities for exhibitions. At that moment, I felt proud of what we’ve done. And it reminded me of why I wanted to focus on this aspect of the job. I always told my parents that I wanted to be responsible for the creative side of the company and I am but it felt so heavy even if I asked for it. I don’t have to carry that pressure with me all the time. I get to take a break from it when I’m with you and I think that’s made me enjoy it more.”
It’s a realization Jungkook had on the way home after that dinner meeting with a local artist in Busan. She talked about envisioning her pieces displayed in a space like the Arts Center and he felt that joy of being able to create something for others to be a part of. Structures are beautiful on their own, but then the meaning deepens because of what they mean for users; the sense of fulfillment is different. He supposes that he’s able to appreciate that part of the job even more now.
“That’s good for us, then,” you hum, as you slowly succumb to sleep. “I have quite the day tomorrow and so do you. Rest now, Jungkook. And I’ll talk to you again.”
He says goodbye with such softness in his eyes. You miss him, but you’re happy that he’s able to experience all this on his own, too. Hearing him talk about it is different than witnessing it yourself and that’s perhaps the joy in being with someone. It’s not just about experiencing what they experience; it’s also about being on the receiving end when they try to make sense of it.
Maybe that’s what partnership is about, and you can’t imagine sharing all this to anyone else but him. And that’s the difference this time. This is a person you admire and who admires you back. He’s someone you could trust and feel safe enough to be your true self with, and after tonight’s conversation, you feel like you’re that same person for him.
You wake up early enough the next day and manage to send Jungkook a message wishing him well on his flight to Tokyo. He gives you a call as he’s about to board and says he has so many things lined up this Wednesday but that he’ll talk to you again in the evening. It’s a promise of tonight despite the distance, and you suppose that makes all the difference for him this time.
You go about your busy day, too. You make yourself a simple breakfast and then head to Rkive Publishing for your onboarding. You requested this to be done earlier so that you could focus on your tasks when you start on Monday, and Namjoon gladly agreed to your request.
He introduces you to Won-woo, your co-production officer who’ll be handling projects alongside you, and to the associates and assistants whom you’ll manage to get the books ready for selling. The team seems a lot more relaxed than what you’re used to, and they share your excitement in working together soon.
Namjoon shows you your desk and turns over your laptop. He introduces you to the rest of the staff and lets the HR go through all the administrative matters with you. He gives you a folder with all the existing and upcoming projects that the associates prepared, including the processes and suppliers list, as well as your team’s personnel files.
You smile at the documents because preparing these used to be your job, and now you’re at the receiving end of it. It’s a different feeling, but being here today excites you even more.
You join them at a book launch and take notes of how it’s being run. As a small company, planning these events is done by a special team composed of a staff member from every department but there isn’t really someone who manages it. That’s a responsibility given to you because of your background, and it’s a challenge you’re willing to take. You have more freedom this time and you have ideas. You observe how Namjoon and the other managers engage with the author and his team. It’s definitely different from what you’re used to, and you feel there’s more sincerity in these people than the millionaires you had to deal with at your old job.
You feel accomplished at the end of it, and it’s something you share with Jungkook again that evening when you eat your Chinese takeout while he munches on some dessert over the phone.
Not wanting to stay home the next day, you go to a park and finish reading your book. You decide to go to the library at the Arts Center and go through the project documents. You walk around, too, able to take in more of the surroundings with the sun still out. It’s a calming place that has you coming up with ideas for book launches, as you take note of the indoor and outdoor spaces that could definitely hold those types of events. You feel fulfilled, and it’s something you share with Yoongi during dinner later that night.
You share it with Jungkook, too, over a late evening video call after he had drinks with some business partners. He sounds quite tipsy, and he goes on about having your lemon ginger tea that you convince him to ask room service to make. You remind him of his lunch breakfast meeting and afternoon flight, and tell him that you could both meet for dinner after he clocks out of work.
It’s what you do the next day, as you wait for him at a French restaurant that you reserved for tonight. You turn around when he calls your name, and your smile is immediate when he comes up to you and hugs you tightly. He sounded tired when he called on the way here, and you suppose that he hasn’t really properly rested these past few days. He’s been going from one meeting or event to another, and he’s said before how the socializing drains all of his energy.
You feel that now, as he exhales deeply while his arms wrap around you.
“Long week, huh?” You say after you both take your seats.
“Crazy,” he shakes his head. “Talking about the plans was exciting but the actual talking was tiring.”
He goes on about how the rest of his trip went and you laugh at his commentary about all the people he’s met and his observations. You realize just how much is on his mind, and it reminds you of all the times that you’d seen him look detached when in fact, he’d been making notes and plans in his head.
Once the food arrives and you salivate at the dishes, he says he’ll stop talking about work now.
“It’s part of your day. Why should you stop talking about it?” You turn to him with a pout.
“I don’t want to bother you about it.”
“But I like hearing you talk about it,” you say. “I like knowing what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours.”
“There’s always too much going on inside it,” he laughs. “I don’t always know how to make sense of them.”
“It’s because you don’t talk about them,” you point out. “I’m here to listen. I always am.”
He smiles and shares what happened today during the meeting he had with the team to discuss all the proposals they’ve been getting with regards to promoting the Arts Center. A subsidiary company is handling operations and marketing, but other than the planned partnerships with the Culture Ministry and the International Film Festival organizers, Jungkook didn’t expect other industries, as well as local and foreign companies and institutions, to want to partner with Jeon Corporation as well, specifically him.
He had a phone meeting with his father and Hoseok during the drive from the airport about how they can strategically go about this but that requires more canvassing and research. This is something they can tap on, and it’s good for the company image and sustainability. Residential and commercial infrastructure have always been their expertise but they can build on the cultural sides of property development, too, and Jungkook would be at the forefront of that.
“Monitoring the Arts Center is a big task in itself. I’m gonna have to set a plan for how the VP Office is going to handle it, among many other things,” he says.
“Maybe it’s time to revisit each team member’s portfolio and responsibilities,” you suggest. “Under Hoseok, only Manager Lee and Chin-sun directly handled projects, but they were all small ones so they could handle multiple. Do-hyun and Yohan managed all administrative affairs and I oversaw a bit of everything. Monitoring the Arts Center might require more than one person so maybe Chin-sun could do it with Do-hyun as a form of mentorship. You have the call to give projects to the young ones now, and maybe add another person to help with administration and events planning. Lucas could need that support.”
Jungkook is quiet and you’re afraid you might’ve crossed a line by advising him on what he could do as VP. You may have been his assistant but that doesn’t mean you could just go on and suggest things. You don’t even know if it’s appropriate to do this. He didn’t even technically ask for your opinion.
You’re about to apologize when he speaks.
“Those are great ideas. I’ll be meeting them about their development and professional goals soon. Maybe I could align expanded responsibilities and portfolios with that,” he hums. “And mentorship is good, too. Hoseok said he planned on doing that but he had to oversee so many projects that it got pushed back so maybe I can institutionalize that now. And yeah, I’m seeing now that we’d need another person to ease the load off the others. I don’t want them to be overworking and actually, neither should I.”
A smile forms on your face as the ideas come flowing. He probably had thought of those already but needed a sounding board outside of the team. That would usually be his assistant but if it’s about them, he’d need another person for it.
“I’m sorry I’m bringing this upon you,” he shakes his head. “That’s… that’s not your job anymore. You’re not my assistant anymore. I don’t want you to think that I’m using you for that.”
You didn’t really think of it that way but you don’t blame him for thinking about it. You did accuse him of wanting you to stay for the convenience of it, and maybe that’s still weighing on him.
“I don’t mind,” you assure him. “This is new territory for us, I guess, and it’s something we have to learn to navigate but this is important to you, which means it’s important to me, too. If we treat it like that, then it’s all okay.”
You caress his hand to assure him, and his smile says he understands. He’ll seek advice from his father, he tells you, and you’re glad that he’s actively working on that relationship personally and professionally.
“How are you feeling about your first day?” He asks, his hand on your bare thigh now while you eat the chocolate mousse dessert. “Do you feel like you’re ready?”
“I’m really excited. And I think I’m ready to just get on with it,” you smile. “Being there last Wednesday helped, and I just have all these ideas for the projects we’ve got lined up. I… I even thought of having book launches in the Arts Center. As long as, you know, it’s not a conflict of interest or anything.”
Your shy smile endears him, and he assures you that it’s not a problem. You’re just using your network. At the end of the day, it’s still the managing company’s call and your own boss’ decision. But you end up bouncing off ideas with him, too, like the Arts Center hosting writing workshops or spoken poetry sessions with the authors whose books you’ll be publishing.
“We make a pretty good team, don’t we?” He says after you’ve finished dinner and you’re walking to his car. “We’re out here just coming up with these ideas.”
“We work pretty well together so it’s not a surprise,” you smile at him. “I like that there’s no pressure, too. And that we could just share these things with each other, you know?”
“That’s true. I mean, I’m not assessing you or anything,” he laughs. “But I can openly admire you for it. And then think it’s sexy when you use publishing terms that I don’t understand.”
“So that’s what you want, huh?” You giggle. “I mean, I understand. It’s how I am with you.”
“Ah, so you find it sexy when I talk about the blueprints and design stuff, then?” He teases.
“I do,” you smirk. “A hot guy with a big brain? Of course that’s sexy.”
“Hmm, that’s nice to know,” he says, caging you against the door of the car.
His eyes soften as he takes you in and you mirror the way he looks.
“I’m happy I get to be with you again,” he whispers, his lips inching closer to yours.
“Me, too,” you whisper back. “And I get to sleep and wake up next to you.”
“That’s always a good plan,” he hums, kissing you deeply, something he could definitely do in an empty basement parking that he couldn’t do at a restaurant.
You fall into him immediately, and all you want is to do this without worry. “Do you mind if we spend the night at my place?” You suggest. “It’s closer.”
He laughs when he pulls away but agrees that getting home as quickly as possible is a good idea. You both enter the car and his palm is glued to your thigh again and you feel the desire heighten now that you’re alone.
Once the door of your apartment shuts, his hands are all over you immediately. You’re undressed by the time you make the short walk to your dining area, and before you could breathe from your rough kissing, you’re whimpering already with how his tongue expertly laps up your sopping cunt.
You’re bent on the table one minute, coming on his mouth and then the next, you’ve got your leg on it while he pounds you from behind, his mouth on your neck and his hands on your breasts.
You go another round in your tiny bathroom, and then another one on the edge of your bed before you’re able to properly lie on it. You’re spent after another quick shower, but it’s worth it when he fucks you as good as he does, especially after not seeing him for a few days.
You’re laid on your side, facing him who does the same. The lamp from your living room is the only source of light you have, but it’s enough for you to see his face and the smile that paints it as you explain that your bed is not as comfortable and your sheets are not as soft as his are. He says that he’ll get used to it, but you insist on passing up on your apartment next time because it’s definitely not sex-conducive unlike his penthouse. He laughs at your comments, saying that he could have sex with you anywhere and it would still be amazing.
But that cheekiness quickly fades away, and the anxious look in his eyes starts to worry you.
It takes a while but you hear it - the pitter-patter on your window that slowly starts getting louder. You turn around and watch helplessly as the drizzle turns to a downpour in seconds, and you rush out of the bed to close the curtains.
Jungkook looks uneasy - his jaws are clenched, his eyes flit from the window to you, and his breathing starts to quicken. His body shrivels, as he pulls the covers tight around him and you can’t imagine how anxious he feels. You turn on your speaker and put on some soft music to hopefully drown out the sounds. It works only a little, and you’re reminded of all the times that you felt powerless and unable to give him comfort.
But that’s not the case now, as his words prompt you to move.
“Come here, please,” he mumbles. “I need you with me.”
You return to your spot next to him, and he loosens his hold on the blanket to let you in.
“I’m here, okay?” You whisper, cupping his face and looking at him in the eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe with me, Jungkook.”
His eyes soften a bit before they close, and you cover his ears with your hands the way you did all those months ago to block out the noise. It works, as his breathing starts to slow down. But his hold on your arms tightens, and you feel that he needs you as an anchor to get through this, so you shift up and let his arms wrap around you. He finds purchase in your neck while you caress his back, and you pace your breathing with his to let him know that you’re with him, and that you’re not letting him go.
The thunder doesn’t come, but you hold Jungkook the entire night to tell him that you’re there to comfort him even when the storm has passed. You drift to sleep once you hear his soft snores, letting his warmth envelope you as well.
You awake the next morning laid on your stomach like you tend to be, with only the warmth from the blanket covering you. You’re no longer hugging Jungkook. He also isn’t next to you.
You shift on your back and then find him by the balcony, the curtains open now, allowing you to see the clear skies outside. He stands looking out, with a faraway look in his eyes the way he had the day after his nightmare. You watch him for a while, wondering what’s on his mind, if the fear still remains, or if your comfort helped him get through the night.
He senses you’re awake, so he turns around and faces you. There’s a softness in his eyes now and you wonder where that’s from.
“Hey,” he greets. “Did the light wake you?”
“No. The empty space next to me did,” you say softly, sitting up on the bed now.
“I’m sorry. I… I had to exercise a bit to expend the negative energy,” he explains.
“What did you do?” You wonder.
“Just some push-ups and lunges. I didn’t want to disturb your sleep. You looked pretty peaceful,” he smiles.
“I don’t even know what time I slept. But it wasn’t long after you did. How do you feel?”
“Better. It was one of those nights, you know?”
You nod, suddenly overcome with a wave of sadness and regret. He notices the change in your expression and sits on the edge of the bed facing you.
“Hey, is everything okay?”
You look at him with a pout. “I asked you to come here. Then it rained. And I know how you like to workout in the mornings and I have nothing to offer here.”
“You know you can’t control the weather, right?” He nudges your knee. “I would’ve asked if we could come here if you hadn’t because it was closer. And you… you were all I needed last night. I held onto you like a lifeline, ___.”
“You did,” you nod, appreciating his words, even if he’s not the one who should be comforting you after what happened. “I’m glad I could do that for you. I guess I’m just… a little ashamed because this is all I have and—”
“Baby, I’m gonna stop you there before you say anything else,” he says, scooting closer to you and tilting your chin so you could look at him. “This is your home and I… I know you don’t just let anyone in. I like being here. I like being with you. And last night, that will be one of many. I know I won’t be going through that on my own anymore.”
“I can’t control the weather, right?” You repeat his words. “What if it happens and I’m not with you?”
“I’ll just imagine that you are,” he hums. “And then I can head to you the next day and I’ll feel better. And that’s… that’s new for me.”
“Okay,” you mumble, thankful that you’re able to give him as much comfort and safety that he does with you. “I’m just here even if I’m not around.”
“I know,” he smiles, leaning close to kiss you.
You give him a soft one then pout again, saying you still have to brush your teeth, so he lets you go and you scurry to the bathroom. You return to your bed with him lying on his back now, his arm folded behind his head as he gestures to the space next to him. You climb up and lay on top of his chest, kissing him languidly as his arms wrap around your waist to hold you in place.
He’s gentle with the way his tongue rolls around with yours, and with how his hands stroke your back as they’ve snuck underneath your shirt. There’s something about the rare cool morning that has you wanting to just lazily make out with him while you feel each other up.
And that’s exactly what happens. You hum and giggle against each other’s lips, and your hand maps his torso while he palms your waist down to your thigh.
Laying on his chest now, you turn to him.
“I’m nervous about tonight,” you confess.
“Baby, you know my parents. And you know they like you,” he says, turning to you. “Even you think that they already approve of you.”
It’s true, you remind yourself. They have always been kind to you. You’ve had several conversations with CEO Jeon and he was the one who showed you the library. They also sounded excited about dinner when they called Jungkook last week, but being around them in a different context this time makes you anxious.
“Approval is one thing but meeting expectations is another, and that’s what I’m worried about,” you explain. “They know me as an employee but not as the woman you’re, uh, currently seeing.”
“You mean dating.”
“Yes, that,” you shyly smile. “I worked for their family and now I’m… dating their son. And there are standards to that.”
“Standards that you already meet,” he assures you. “For all that my parents are, I at least know that what matters the most to them is that I’m with someone who genuinely wants me, and considering how you can’t get your hands off me, I know you do.”
You laugh at this teasing but you don’t deny it.
“You’re quite irresistible, if I’m being honest,” you giggle. “I’m still getting used to the fact that I could, uh, do all this with you.”
“Well, I hope you don’t get tired of it. Because I won’t.”
“Look at you being good with words and all,” you smirk. “You surprise me, Mr. Jeon. I can’t wait to know what else is inside that heart of yours.”
“Me, too, actually,” he hums, realizing that there’s still so much he doesn’t know about what he’s capable of doing and feeling this time around. “I guess we can find out together.”
You smile at his honesty and think the same. You’re on this journey of learning what your heart can do and he’ll be the one to show you that.
You lay in bed with Jungkook for the rest of the morning, having short naps and then lazy make out sessions before deciding to wash up. You eat at a cafe for lunch then head to his place this time. He works out for a bit then joins you on the couch as you watch a show before you both prepare for that dinner at his parents’ estate.
Mr. and Mrs. Jeon warmly greet you when you arrive. They lead you to the dining room and you tone down your amazement at the spread before you. There are all types of meat and seafood and other fancy dishes that get you curious, something Jungkook seems to notice as he fills your plate and tells you to let him know what else you want more of.
“Don’t be shy, dear,” his mother says. “Have as much as you want. We want you to feel at home and comfortable, okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Jeon,” you smile.
You try to loosen up but still act proper, not wanting to give the impression that you’re uncultured and ignorant. Their family has so much experience of traveling the world and you want to show that you can keep up, that you’re worthy of sitting and walking alongside them and their son. You seem to be doing okay, but you don’t realize how nervous you really are until you feel Jungkook’s hand wrap around your own and then his fingers interlocking with yours.
He’s warm and stable, and when you tighten your grip, you see him smile from your periphery. You smile as well, wanting him to know that you appreciate the encouragement he’s giving. And it helps, as once you’re asked about your new job, you feel yourself relax in his hold, until he slowly lets you go, showing you that you’re doing well and can hold your own.
You talk with confidence and excitement about the publishing house and your responsibilities. Jungkook watches you beam when you mention your upcoming projects and the things you’re looking forward to learning, and he thinks you’re incredibly beautiful like this. It’s new and exciting for him, too, and it’s at this moment when all the pain and frustration from losing you the first time that it all feels truly worth it.
Jungkook doesn’t expect to be as engaged as he is once his mother asks about his trips this past week. Oftentimes he’d give simple and straightforward answers, but with you around, there’s this new kind of comfort and feeling of openness towards his parents. Perhaps it’s gratitude that they helped you and your mom all those years ago. Maybe it’s also you, because being around you makes him want to be better. It might be both of that and more - it might also be him, realizing that he’s capable of receiving and returning the love of the two people who've given him the most.
After dinner, you all proceed to the sitting room outside that overlooks the garden. You settle with a flute of champagne and sit next to Mrs. Jeon, appreciating the moon casting over the grand space filled with big trees and flower beds and a fountain.
“I’ve added more outdoor lights,” CEO Jeon informs Jungkook as they sip their glass of whiskey. “I’ll show you the new ones.”
Jungkook nods and gestures to you that he’ll just go with his father. You watch them head out and walk around, with the older man pointing to different posts and seemingly explaining the lighting. Jungkook engages with him, and compared to what you’d witnessed in the past, his body language this time is no longer of detachment.
“You’ve done so much for our son, ___,” his mother breaks through your thoughts, prompting you to turn to her. “I hope you never doubt your place in this family. I know it’s all new and it’s just been a week but I want you to feel like you belong here, with him and with us.”
“That’s an honor to give me, Mrs. Jeon,” you respond in gratitude. “Please know that I won’t take that for granted.”
“I feel more grateful that you’re around,” she faintly smiles. “We’re just like most families, you know? I don’t want to be ignorant in saying that but we… We have our troubles. We never say enough, we say things we don’t mean, we let distance keep us apart, we love but we don’t show it the right way. But we try. We try with our sons but it doesn’t always get through. I always feel like too much has happened and we just never knew how to make up for it.”
“I think Jungkook’s seeing that now,” you assure her. “He’s told me about wanting to spend more time with you, to celebrate birthdays and holidays. It might take time but he wants to make plans. He won’t feel so far away from you anymore.”
“And we thank you for that,” she says. “We didn’t know how to make him open up to us and there are still things we don’t know about him. We lost so many years and I… I’ve been hoping that in being back here, he’ll give us a chance and now he has. And that’s because of you. You showed him the good that’s around him and you made him open up to those good things. All it took was you.”
“He did the same for me,” you point out. “I carried a lot of pain, too, and I’ve only started to embrace the good things around me because of him. Your son has such a beautiful heart, Mrs. Jeon, and regardless of what happened, I know he took that from you, too,” your voice cracks now.
“Oh, dear,” she huffs, taking your hand in hers. “You have no idea how much it means to me to know that.”
She wipes the tears that form in her eyes and you give her a comforting smile.
“He cares about you, Mrs. Jeon. And he’s slowly learning how to express that.”
“That’s wonderful to hear,” she smiles. “I hope you always stay by his side, dear. It can get hard sometimes, as it is with all relationships. But… I hope you hold each other’s hands throughout all of that.”
“I’m sure we’ll learn that, too,” you nod.
You turn to where Jungkook and his father are and see that they’ve gone a bit further down. You ask his mother where they might be and she answers that they’re probably by the playground, as new lights have been installed in that area, too.
“You should go to him,” she urges. “That’s such a special place for him and I’m sure he’d want to show it to you.”
You nod and head out, your heart warming at finally being able to be in his safe space this time. You get there without catching their attention, and you look back at the humble structure before you, seeing the love that created it for a man you hold so close to you.
“That’s such a lovely playground, Mr. Jeon,” you say, prompting both men to turn to you. “Did you build this all by yourself?”
“Oh, I thought you were talking to me,” Jungkook states.
“You’re only Jungkook to me now,” you playfully shake your head, although you don’t miss the teasing way he cocks his eyebrow because you definitely still use the formalities as you please.
CEO Jeon laughs but gets back to your question. “I did. It was the first time I ever designed and constructed one and it took a while to do it. I had to figure out how to hide it from Jungkook because he would follow me out here that I had his mother take him to one of our properties in the mountains for the weekend just so I could finish it,” he laughs at the memory. “But it was all worth it. He loved it as a child and it stood the test of time.”
“It’s because you maintain it, father,” Jungkook points out. “That’s, uh, that’s dedication.”
“I knew how much it mattered to you, and that mattered to me,” the older man hums. “I wanted you to have a place where you felt safe every time you were here. Maintaining it was my way of feeling close to you.”
You watch as both of them share a look of gratitude and acceptance, and though mending this relationship will also take time, you know that with this, it’s starting to.
“Well, I’m sure Jungkook would love to show it off,” CEO Jeon smiles. “I’ll leave you both to it.”
You’re left alone with Jungkook now, and with his hand around your waist, you rest your head on his chest and hug him tight. You imagine a young boy running about, excitedly riding the swing and going down the slide and then sitting at his favorite spot while he draws buildings and the sky on his sketch pad. That same boy stands next to you now and holds you close, in a way sharing those memories with you as you stand in silence and take in the beauty of a humble playground.
Jungkook turns and kisses you on the forehead.
“Thank you for tonight,” he whispers. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“Always,” you smile. “Thank you for taking me here.”
You know that for him, it’s not just about how you managed the evening with his parents. It’s also more than just a celebratory dinner for the Arts Center. Tonight is a way for him to show his parents that he’s ready to receive all the good that they’ve been showing him.
And it’s his way of telling you that as long as you’re both navigating your pains and your fears together, everything is going to be alright.
You spent the rest of Saturday night curled in Jungkook’s arms as you both watched a horror movie on his living room couch. On Sunday, you slept in and cooked lunch together before he took you to a spa. He insisted on getting a massage to help you relax before your big first day, and with the steam room and afternoon tea included in the couples package, you couldn’t say no.
He looked happy seeing you satisfied. There was something about the soft kisses and sensual touches that got you relaxed and definitely turned on. You had dinner out after that then he took you home where he stayed until you started dozing off, wanting to spend time with you as long as he can before another busy week.
Your alarm goes off on Monday morning and you immediately get up, feeling that excitement of your first day rush through you. It’s a different feeling this time - you’ll be establishing a new routine, be around a different set of people, exploring new food places to eat at for lunch, and your days will be filled with new tasks and responsibilities that you can’t wait to get to.
You’ll learn new things and manage a team this time, and it will challenge you in so many ways. You’ll also engage with authors and artists, and you suppose that's what you’re most excited about - you want to connect with your inner self and your surroundings more, and to find peace and strength in other people’s words.
Looking at yourself in the mirror after your shower, you can’t help but smile. There’s that joy on your face that’s new. There’s a bit of fear, too, but even then, you wish Jungkook was here to see how excited you look, or maybe to remind you that things are going to be alright. He messaged earlier to greet you good morning and you’ll probably settle with texts for now, as he might be on the way to work with Lucas next to him.
Wrapping a towel around your body, you head out the bathroom to dress up. But that’s when your doorbell rings, and you freeze for a moment because you’re not scheduled to have anyone this early in the morning. It might be your neighbor. But it could also be—
“Babe?” Jungkook calls from the other side. “Are you still there?”
You immediately open the door to let him in and you stare at him, all dressed and ready for work.
“Hey,” you say, returning his kiss. “What are you doing here? Did Mr. Ri drive for you?”
“No, I did,” he smiles. “I told him and Lucas that I’ll just meet them at the office and I won’t be in until around 9.”
“Why?”
“Well, it’s your first day. And I wanted to get you breakfast. And drive you to work,” he explains. “Maybe ease your nerves if you’re a little anxious.”
You soften as you watch him lay out the pastries and cups of coffee on your dining table. You were just thinking about him, and now he’s here, making sure he’s got your first meal and transportation covered on this pretty important day.
“I’m actually quite excited,” you beam. “And I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Good,” he smiles, taking his seat. “I… I know you’re a grown adult and all but I didn’t want you to go through this on your own.”
You want to hug and kiss him at this moment but doing so while wrapped in a damp towel isn’t a good idea. So you ask for a second and quickly wear your nightgown from last night, then you scurry towards him. You sit on his lap and bury your face in his neck, taking in his scent while your arms wrap around him.
His arms wrap around you, too, tightening his grip on your waist the more you curl into his body. He adores this giddy version of you, the one that melts in joy when he does something nice. It’s wholesome, he thinks. He always believed you deserved that kind of care and treatment. He’d spoil you with whatever you like, but it’s this tenderness that he learned from you, that he wants to try to keep showing.
You cup his face with your hands and kiss him softly while he palms your outer thigh as your legs lay on his lap. You pull away before you start to want more, grazing your nose against his instead then going to your seat.
The pastries look divine and you already feel energized. You thank him again for making the effort to buy all this and drive to you, and his proud smile makes the butterflies in your belly go off.
“Dress up now,” he says once you finish. “I’ll clean up here and make you coffee to-go.”
“Okay,” you mumble, leaving him to finally get ready.
Jungkook puts away the remaining food and wraps it for your breakfast tomorrow. He uses the coffee machine that his office gave as a farewell gift to make your drink that you’ll be needing to get you through the rest of the morning. He glances at you and sees you choosing between two blouses. You turn to him to show both of them, your eyes asking which one you should wear.
“Blush,” he answers. “Pairs better with the green.”
He gestures towards the shoes next to your closet, the ones he got for you last weekend.
“Thought so,” you smile, turning around to put it on.
He walks towards you as you tuck it in your beige slacks and look at yourself in the mirror. He watches as you tie the knot by the neckline of your top, aligning the bows constantly. You don’t seem to be satisfied, as you pull the tails then do it all over again, straightening the bows once more. He knows you can do this even with your eyes closed, but a bit of help won’t hurt, especially as he senses that something’s causing you to be quite jittery.
“Hey,” he calls out. “Let me.”
You meet his eyes in the mirror then turn around to face him. He tightens the knot and aligns it, and you watch him the whole time he does. Something about the way he’s focused on this makes your heart race, and you smile to yourself at how the roles have reversed.
But unlike how both of you used to stand still and hold your breaths when it was you on the other side, this time, there’s calmness despite what you’re feeling.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous,” you admit, prompting him to look at you. “It’s just that… so much has happened for me to get here and I want to do it right. I want to do well. I don’t want to fail at this, Jungkook.”
“And you won’t,” he comforts, cupping your face now as he looks at you tenderly. “You worked hard to get here, to have this kind of freedom. You deserve to pursue what makes you happy, ___, and you deserve to want it, okay? You’re gonna go there and impress everyone with your beautiful mind and admirable work ethic and kindness. And that boss of yours is going to constantly be thankful that you gave him a chance and didn’t shut him out when he spoke to you at that bookstore.”
He thumbs your cheek as you slowly smile, and he mirrors your look of adoration.
“I’ve seen what you can do,” Jungkook continues. “And this new role, this company… they’ll test you but I know you. You’ll make them believe in your capabilities and your vision. Your heart will make them trust you. And you’ll lead them well; I don’t doubt it one bit.”
“Okay,” you nod, feeling the warmth of his words all over your body.
You’re thankful that he decided to come today, as you probably would’ve stressed about so many things and then become anxious right as you’re entering the office.
But you aren’t. You feel confident and excited and for the first time, you feel like yourself. It’s not because you’re tying your identity and purpose to a job again, which is what pulled you down before. But right now, you don’t feel the baggage of your past. You don’t feel like you’re performing a role. You don’t feel emptiness or disconnection from things and people around you.
Perhaps this is when you start to really get to know who you are - as a professional, as a leader, as a potential artist… Maybe as a lover and someone’s partner, too, as you take what Jungkook is giving you. This is when you get to know yourself as a person and what you can give to others and how much you can receive. This is when you get to know yourself outside of what you do and let it be about what you feel and think and enjoy.
This is when it could be about what you love. And perhaps this is when you learn what your heart could truly do, and you can’t wait to explore all that with him.
“Thank you,” you mumble, exhaling a sigh of relief once you feel his soft lips against your forehead. “I’m glad I’m not doing this on my own.”
Jungkook just smiles, content on seeing that joy and calmness on your face. You stop him when he pulls you to finally leave the house, and you think there’s one thing you can do for him this time.
You align his necktie, and while he’s been doing it correctly recently, you can’t pass up on this part of your routine together.
He smiles again and kisses your hand in thanks, then he leads you to his car where he drives the half hour to your office, all while your fingers are intertwined with his. It’s calming and everything you need before your big day, one that will start with a meeting to prepare you for your operations planning at the end of the week.
Jungkook pulls over on the street and faces you. And just as you’re about to kiss him goodbye, he tells you that there’s something he wants to give you as an added gift.
You look at him in warning because you said you didn’t want anything else.
“It’s nothing grand, I promise,” he chuckles, as he retrieves a bag from the backseat.
He hands it to you and you excitedly peek in, feeling a wave of emotion as you hold up a snake plant.
“I heard it’s good for positive energy,” he says to fill up the silence in the car.
He’s right because you told him that. And he’s been taking care of the one on his office desk, the one that you gave him for his birthday. He also told you the other day that looking at it now makes him feel your presence, as if you’re rooting for him even when you’re not around. You suppose that’s what he’s trying to tell you, too.
“It is,” you smile. “I heard it’s also good at reminding its owner that someone’s always there for them.”
“I can confirm that saying,” he chuckles.
You lean over and give him a soft kiss.
“Thank you, Jungkook,” you smile, feeling the calmness wash over you.
“You’re welcome,” he smiles back. “Now go. You can’t be late on your first day.”
You laugh and open the door. “I’ll see you tonight,” you say before walking out.
You turn back and wave him goodbye one last time.
It’s quite symbolic, as you think about Jungkook as happiness, dropping you off at a new place that already gives you another kind of fulfillment. You used to think there was only one way to feel it, that it only consisted of one thing or person.
You realize that happiness could be in many forms, and that the feeling of connection and intimacy is alive, it’s ongoing, it’s a constant pursuit that’s both tangible and elusive, and it requires vulnerability; it requires strength.
As you enter your new office and greet your new colleagues, and as you place the plant with the ‘good luck’ note on it on your desk and retrieve the supplies that your former team gave you, you see all the things that connect you to your past and the ones that clarify your new present. There’s so much to learn and unlearn - how to be good to yourself is one of them, and you can’t wait for that, too.
“Ms. Cho,” a deep voice calls out.
You look at the man in front of you and you both share a brief moment of silence before bursting in laughter.
“It feels weird,” Namjoon says. He straightens himself before turning to you again. “___,” he corrects. “Meeting time, let’s go.”
It’s casual and comfortable and everything you need. You don’t want the formalities either, and it’s this type of environment that you truly believe will make you better.
You follow him to the meeting room and there’s a wave of nostalgia that hits you, especially once you start taking minutes that you shouldn’t be doing anymore.
You laugh to yourself. Maybe there’ll always be that person in you, but you don’t pity her anymore; in fact, you admire her. It’s her strength and grace that got you here, and you know it’s the same things that will make you appreciate and protect and fight for all the things that you have now.
That includes your job. That includes yourself. And that definitely includes Jungkook.
END.
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Just some words I've been needing to hear for a few weeks now and once I finally wrote them down, I thought maybe there were other people who might need to hear them too ❤️
You don't need to be anyone's favorite writer for your writing to be good.
The worth of your writing is not measured by whether or not you're included in fic recs or the amount of comments/asks you get.
Your works don't need to be recognized as some of The fics of the fandom to be good or worth reading.
'Popular' writers in your fandom are also just writers (and humans!!) : you don't need to impress or be noticed by them to have a place in your fandom. Fandom should be fun so don't let your brain ruin it with a misplaced sense of competition <3
You don't need to post a fic every week to be considered a writer. You don't need to write every week to be a writer. There is no limited places in fandom: come and go as you want and as life allows you to. Post when you feel like it, there is no trend to surf on to stay 'relevant' as a fic writer or a content creator. Fandom will always wait for you.
Your writing is good, and the more you write, the more you find your style, the better it gets.
Your writing made someone's day. Your writing is helping the fandom stay alive. Your writing should make you happy, and that happiness should not be proportional to how recognized you are in your fandom.
I know it can be discouraging to see tons of fic recs in your fandom and none of them including your fics. But yesterday, when I was feeling down, I re-read my own published works because they were the stories I wanted to read. And I enjoyed reading them, so much. And that is enough to keep me writing, because it showed me there is no better person to write the stories I have in my head than myself (a huge progress considering months ago, I couldn't reread something I'd written because I was cringeing too hard to get through two sentences).
Find your people that will always hype you and your fics up: you and your writing don't have to appeal to every single person in your fandom. Write niche fics! Rarepairs seemingly no one brought up before! Include headcanons and takes and interpretations you've never seen written before!
Write the stories you are dying to read, and I promise you, you'll find other people who were hoping to find that story somewhere, too.
Your writing is unique because it can only ever be yours and same goes for your stories; your writing is worth reading and your stories are worth being written <3
#feeling really nervous about posting this because my brain is convinced people will think it's a dig when it is absolutely not#but they're the words I needed someone to tell me for weeks so if it can help anyone <3#so I really hope no one interprets them as a dig lmao#every work published is a blessing to the fandom#kind of my take on the write for yourself i guess#writing positivity#on writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writing encouragement#writing motivation
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Just to chime in briefly on the "libraries pay authors" as an indie press - yes, we get money (that, as appropriate, gets paid to authors as royalties) every time a library buys our books. We also get money every time someone "borrows" one of our e-books - there's a per-read payment system for a lot of e-book library lending apps.
And also another small addition - I need to make it clear that small indie presses like mine aren't "big pub" even if we're technically legally a corporation (in my case, a "limited liability corporation," which just means "if the business folds they can't seize all my family's personal assets to pay my debt, so like, my kids won't be left homeless because my business failed" - my personal liability is limited/separate from my liability as the owner of a corporation.) I am NOT saying that Joy or Alex said this, to be clear, but I've noticed a huge number of people seem to think that ANY business that isn't "sole author publishing" is the same as Big Pub and like. We're so not. Small press people are generally only a handful of employees at most (Duck Prints Press has one employee - me) and we work our asses off to try to scrape by in an incredibly hostile general world environment. Every small press person I know is right on the limit of giving up, not because we don't love the work, but because we can't earn enough to pay our authors and ourselves. As a business owner who, ya know, has some actual fucking ethics...the owner gets paid last. I make sure the editors, the authors, the artists, the graphic designers, everyone else, gets paid, before I take a cent.
And as a result, I haven't taken a paycheck in the almost three YEARS I've been running this business. I haven't earned a penny from this business, even for my own writing - when me-the-author or me-the-editor might have gotten paid if I was an outsider, I don't take the money, I just leave it in the business pool. I'm currently working as much as 60 hours a week for zero pay and zero benefits, and I take maybe a dozen days off all year, and I still am a mom, and a member of fandom, and I wish I could still be an author but I don't even have the energy left for my own writing at the end of the day, and this is all because I believe that the people we work with, as a group, can potentially do better if we collectivize and publish TOGETHER than any of us could do alone if we tried to go the solo self-pub route.
To be honest, so far, I'm not sure that's true, because there's so much stigma around "it's a corporation" that people act like we're the same as a Harper Collins or something. WE'RE NOT. Small Press ISN'T THAT.
Okay, this didn't end up a small addition, and I could probably keep going, but coming from the small press angle...we're drowning too. Big Pub is trying to kill indie publishing - and that means self-pub AND places like us - and when people pirate from us, when people go "eh, they're a ~corporation~, they must be fine," when people just...assume that any collective (as in, any group of authors trying to work together to make this work) are Just As Bad, you really screw us, and it's so exhausting to constantly see people act like "everyone who isn't a single, solitary, starving artist is Part Of The Evil." And, like ariaste says, this is ALSO while we fight against the "self pub is all crap/impossible to succeed at/not worth paying attention to" stigma that exists in more traditional circles. People who want to "support small" think we're big and people who think only big exists assume we're only doing this because we suck, and so we get it from all sides.
(And again: This is NOT something I've ever seen thebibliosphere do, this isn't about OP or the other commenter ariaste, it's about general trends I observe in how people act toward DPP and other small presses. We're. We're working so hard y'all, and we're so tired, and it's so insanely difficult to even get enough traction to publish the stories that I see so many people on Tumblr claim they want, but when we actually make them, all we get is crickets.)
(really shutting up now. sorry. sweatdrop)
I both believe "poor people deserve art" and "artists deserve food", but it's hard to reconcile those beliefs. I blame capitalism. And I suppose it mostly matters who you're stealing from?
I don't mean to question you at all, I'm against people pirating your stories. I guess I was just wondering if you had more thoughts regarding the reconciliation the two beliefs I quoted above.
I think the reconciliation is working toward a future where things are better, and authors and artists don't have to beg people not to steal from them because they think every author is Stephen King, who wouldn't notice if you stole the pennies found under his couch when in reality most of us are hunting for spare change down the back of the couch because we are earning below minimum wage.
We need people to embrace the idea that art belongs to the working class, both in terms of consumption but also creation.
If you don't support the working-class creators, you'll only end up with rich fucks with no scope of the world beyond their own narrow view of privilege.
Indie creators are actually working very hard to change the way the industry works, and the publishing industry is shitting itself over it. They don't like the success some of us are having. It's why they keep upping prices while slashing corners on their own production (while never affecting the man at the top) to try and stay competitive within the rat race they've created.
They're not interested in the proliferation of art. They're not interested in making sure their authors can afford to live. They don't want more diversity. They don't want inclusion. They want profit at whatever the cost.
And while indie creators very much need to get paid because we live in a capitalistic society and everything is burning down around us, and a carton of eggs now costs more than what I earn per hour, our creativity is directly at odds with the type of profiteering big publishers want.
The money should go to the writers. Not the CEOs. The money should go to the workers in the print houses. Not the CEOs. No one needs the kind of wealth these people have. It's obscene. We need direct action against these conglomerates. We need unionization. We need a means to fight back so that we can make art and make it accessible.
So, how do we do that? I don't know. I'm just a very tired, disabled creator doing my best to keep my head above water. But I think getting people to realize that art and books are worth saving up for would be a good start.
That putting money in the pockets of creators is just as important as your own enjoyment of their art. Because if there aren't any artists, you've got nothing.
Getting them involved with their local libraries would also be a great start. Educating them on how the industry works is part of that. The number of people telling me they had no idea libraries paid authors is staggering. And that's intentional. It's a by-product of right-wing propaganda to make you think libraries are worthless and just sap taxpayers' money.
They're not.
If they were, the fash wouldn't be trying so hard to take them away.
Basically, we need working-class solidarity and for certain people on the left to rid themselves of the idea that just because something isn't borne of manual labor, it doesn't have worth. We need the artists and the dreamers as much as we need to bricklayers and the craftsmen. Otherwise, what's the fucking point of it all?
#unforth adds for no good reason#tbh i'm never sure if I should write and post things like this#especially on the business account#but i'm so tired guys#I've worked so fucking hard for so little#all while fighting up hill against the industry and the consumers who assume we're either shit or The Bad Capitalists#it feels like we can't win#i just want to publish queer stories#i just want to be able to put out books that play with genre and tropes in the way that fanfiction does but with our original characters#our writers are so amazing and work so hard#and it's so hard to get anyone to listen#i scream myself hoarse to get pittances#i'm so tired so so so so tired#and when I write tags like this I always worry I'm going to upset the people who DO support us#every single person who has ever bought one of our stories or books#i love you and i respect you and you shouldn't feel bad that you haven't done more#you've done so much just by spending a single penny to support indie publishing
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unpopular opinion but with the new tide of Greek mythology stories and retellings, Greek Cultural Sensitivity Readings are absolutely necessary. We are in 2024, with thousands of fics and retellings out there!! How is this not a thing yet?? There's vast improvement one can achieve by working professionally on their text with a Greek. I've seen it so many times!!
Also, duh, I'm offering the service BUT I want you to know that the situation with the inaccuracies of SERIOUS works is so dire that initially I didn't even do it for money. As a writer I just wanted to... fix things, to set a new standard for writers and the industry that sells us the most heavily Americanized pop-culture material and passes it as "authentic vibes of Greek mythology". (And of course there were writers who wanted to do right by their story and they had reached out to me. So kudos to them as well!)
Okay, but why does Cultural Sensitivity Reading make a vast difference and it's not just smoke and mirrors?
As a Greek, I am tired of well-meaning writers and authors butchering very basic elements of my culture. It's not their fault exactly, since they were raised in another culture with a different perspective. And nobody clued them in on how different Greek culture is from theirs, so writers sometimes assume that their culture is the default and they project that into ancient Greece. (Even published professionals like Madeline Miller have written "UK or US in antiquity" (with a very colonialist flavor) instead of writing "Ancient Greece". (Looking at you, Circe!)
Even writers who researched a lot before coming to me still had a lot of misinformation or wrong information in their text, easily verifiable by the average Greek. Again, not their fault. They can only access certain information, which does not include Greek scholarly work and scientific articles that DO offer valuable context.
Translation, accuracy, and meaning: If you ever wondered what a word means or how to pronounce it, here's your chance! There are Greeks like me who are knowledgeable and have a keen interest in antiquity and they will be able to read and compare ancient texts, and dive deeper into the work of Greek scholars regarding those texts.
If you want to create new words, you can do that as well! (It doesn't always work, but we can try. Greek is a really rich language and has a word about everything) If you use existing words, I can help you separate reality from fantasy in the context of your story.
(Do not assume we Greeks are ignorant of our heritage, or that we don't know how to research! Our archaeology sector is huge and archaeological museums are closer to most of us than your local Target is to you)
I guarantee there are things you never thought about Greece and the Mediterranean - from the ancient to the modern era. Sprinkling elements like phrases, types of interactions, customs, songs, instruments, dances, etc , into your text will make your text absolutely rich in culture.
Names matter!!! The genders of the names matter, diminutives matter (If I see one more "Perse" for Persephone I will claw my eyes out along with a few thousand Greeks), naming traditions matter!!! In many cases you should not even use a diminutive!!
You will be able to write about a foreign culture easily! Because of the continuity of Greek culture, you can even write a few more recent Greek elements to fill in the gaps. I can make sure they are not mismatched, and they will complement your ancient setting. I have observed a few things I didn't know we had since antiquity, but they make sense because our land has certain characteristics.
Non-Greek writers often miss the whole context of Greek culture! Do you know how Greek respect towards deities and parents looks like? What tones we use when we talk to our elders? When to use honorific plural - if your setting is more modernized?
Oh, and please let's avoid caricatures when describing Greeks?? (even fantasy Greeks) There can be heavy exotisation and odd descriptions of Greeks, as if we are another species. Even in published works. For many western writers it's difficult to catch, unfortunately.
The whole process is actually way easier than you think. You send me a text, I make notes and then we have some discussion on your vision.
It's always okay to seek guidance from the locals! You are not "guilty" when you admit you don't know! How can you know if you don't ask?? You can't imagine what relief and "πάλι καλά!!!" I read/see from other Greeks when I tell them another foreigner is using me for cultural sensitivity? Greeks want you to seek help and will NOT shame you for it!
(On the contrary, you have no idea how many eye-rolls Greeks do when they see a blatantly wrong thing in a story... Which has happened pretty often for many years now. Can we do better as an industry?? Please???)
You can send me a personal message to share your story, or ask what this whole cultural sensitivity thing is all about, or ask about what I have done so far and how I can help. But for the love of all that's good, don't let your story be another "generic greek myth retelling"! And don't let others sell you their generic greek myth retellings!!
#writing#writers and readers#novel writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#representation#writer#greek mythology#retellings#classics#epic the musical#epic the wisdom saga#epic the troy saga#greek myth#greek myth retelling#fantasy#ancient greece#history#books#ancient greek#roman mythology#greek history#mythology#classical mythology#greece#art#greek gods#greek heroes#achilles#odysseus
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Trying to make sense of the Nanowrimo statement to the best of my abilities and fuck, man. It's hard.
It's hard because it seems to me that, first and foremost, the organization itself has forgotten the fucking point.
Nanowrimo was never about the words themselves. It was never about having fifty thousand marketable words to sell to publishing companies and then to the masses. It was a challenge, and it was hard, and it is hard, and it's supposed to be. The point is that it's hard. It's hard to sit down and carve out time and create a world and create characters and turn these things into a coherent plot with themes and emotional impact and an ending that's satisfying. It's hard to go back and make changes and edit those into something likable, something that feels worth reading. It's hard to find a beautifully-written scene in your document and have to make the decision that it's beautiful but it doesn't work in the broader context. It's fucking hard.
Writing and editing are skills. You build them and you hone them. Writing the way the challenge initially encouraged--don't listen to that voice in your head that's nitpicking every word on the page, put off the criticism for a later date, for now just let go and get your thoughts out--is even a different skill from writing in general. Some people don't particularly care about refining that skill to some end goal or another, and simply want to play. Some people sit down and try to improve and improve and improve because that is meaningful to them. Some are in a weird in-between where they don't really know what they want, and some have always liked the idea of writing and wanted a place to start. The challenge was a good place for this--sit down, put your butt in a chair, open a blank document, and by the end of the month, try to put fifty thousand words in that document.
How does it make you feel to try? Your wrists ache and you don't feel like any of the words were any good, but didn't you learn something about the process? Re-reading it, don't you think it sounds better if you swap these two sentences, if you replace this word, if you take out this comma? Maybe you didn't hit 50k words. Maybe you only wrote 10k. But isn't it cool, that you wrote ten thousand words? Doesn't it feel nice that you did something? We can try again. We can keep getting better, or just throwing ourselves into it for fun or whatever, and we can do it again and again.
I guess I don't completely know where I'm going with this post. If you've followed me or many tumblr users for any amount of time, you've probably already heard a thousand times about how generative AI hurts the environment so many of us have been so desperately trying to save, about how generative AI is again and again used to exploit big authors, little authors, up-and-coming authors, first time authors, people posting on Ao3 as a hobby, people self-publishing e-books on Amazon, traditionally published authors, and everyone in between. You've probably seen the statements from developers of these "tools", things like how being required to obtain permission for everything in the database used to train the language model would destroy the tool entirely. You've seen posts about new AI tools scraping Ao3 so they can make money off someone else's hobby and putting the legality of the site itself at risk. For an organization that used to dedicate itself to making writing more accessible for people and for creating a community of writers, Nanowrimo has spent the past several years systematically cracking that community to bits, and now, it's made an official statement claiming that the exploitation of writers in its community is okay, because otherwise, someone might find it too hard to complete a challenge that's meant to be hard to begin with.
I couldn't thank Nanowrimo enough for what it did for me when I started out. I don't know how to find community in the same way. But you can bet that I've deleted my account, and I'll be finding my own path forward without it. Thanks for the fucking memories, I guess.
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Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?
(p.s. you can leave this off anon)
(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)
There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing
I'm going to tackle this two ways...
#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.
I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.
And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."
You know what I mean?
#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.
So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥
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The Beggar Student by Dazai Osamu
"I could feel the hands of fate upon me. I'd been caught. In his heart of hearts, the student is a thirty-two-year-old drunken poet."
"Not even the wisest reader knows the anguish of the writer who has sent a truly awful piece of writing to a magazine in order to survive. Here goes nothing, I told myself, pushing that heavy envelope into the mailbox. It hit the bottom with a thunk. And that was that. Another crummy story. On the surface, it pretends to be a mirror to my soul, although I know as well as anyone the slimy worms of compromise are wriggling in the muck at the bottom. It's a work in which the work is far from done. ... It makes me so ashamed I want to scream and run around in circles. I promise you, it's terrible. A lousy piece of trash. I have no right to call myself a writer. Such is my ignorance. No insights to impart. No illuminating views."
"I wish I could just cut my belly open and let all of the words come spilling out. No matter if it's gibberish, as long as it's my flesh and blood doing the talking."
"My work will disgrace bookstore windows all across the land. Critics will sneer; readers will give up. That hack writer has outdone himself again, they'll say, setting a low bar for writers everywhere. Tough to beat."
"I'll have you know, I may look like an ass, but I'm not a total moron, and when I say I lack conviction, I only mean it relative to my own high standards."
"You ought to try this out sometime, dear reader. Sit yourself down on the sofa of a coffee shop or bar, facing the fireplace beside the madam of the house, so that both of you are staring at the flames, and talk as if you're speaking to the fire - I promise, up against even the dullest mind, you'll be able to sustain a lively conversation for hour after hour. But take heed, reader: you must not look into each other's eyes, not even once."
"I couldn't shut up if I tried. The only way I can stand being alive is if I'm playing the buffoon."
"One might call reason the glue that holds society together. In that sense, the order we enjoy is artificial, but we need this artifice if we want to go on living."
"Even if I feel bad for a person, I'm certain of the cold hard fact that I can't do anything for them, which leaves me feeling even worse."
"Growing up, I found the name incredibly embarrassing, so despite being a string bean, I've been publishing as Osamu Dazai, a name that makes me sound like a street fighter who might break your neck."
"...This guy's a good person. Not egotistical like you." "Hold on," I said, bristling at being labeled a good person. "I'm plenty egotistical..."
"When something pushes me over the brink of fear, I have a nasty tendency to begin laughing like an idiot. A disturbing, wild laugh. I lose control, can't hold it in. An expression not of brazenness, but extreme cowardice that takes me to the limits of delirium."
"Truth is that grownups are the same as kids, except a little worse for wear. Kids ask a lot from grownups, but grownups ask at least as much from kids. It's a real mess. But it's the truth. We count on you to hold it all together. ...To put it gently, we're always one step away from being overwhelmed. To put it harshly, we're all babies who cant' take a word of criticism."
"Next time life gets you down, curl up in a blanket in your rented room and open a good book."
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Hi there! I just read through a few of your long form posts -- the one about the boss and the glue traps and the lizards, the one about the friend and the radishes and the cop, and the one about the breakup and the car and the neighbor's car and your dad -- and I'm just really blown away by your writing. And I'm just curious, are they actual experiences or are they fiction? They read like actual experiences, and the writing is so naturalistic and...idk, low key sweet, stream of consciousness without the major sidetracking that often happens in stream of consciousness writing and also more...more poetical in a way, I guess. I don't know. Are you published or wanting to? I mean I couldn't help with that or anything but if you've got a book out I'd love to read it.
Patrick McManus was kind of THE legendary writer to my family. When my dad was a kid, he'd sit on the porch the door that the monthly copy of Outdoor Life was going to arrive, and as soon as he got it, he'd run in with it and take it to his dad, who would gather all his kids around and read the stories out loud.
My dad loved it because his dad would make a whole performance out of the readings: He'd do voices, pantomimes, dramatic sound effects, the works. The stories are amazing, but the out-of-character behavior from his dad was half the selling point. Grandpa Hank was, to his core, a good man. But he was gruff, and socially, pretty stiff, and he didn't often show emotion. I think my dad said he saw him tear up one time growing up, and it was when he got dropped off at the MTC. My mom was married to my dad for three years before Grandpa Hank was comfortable enough to sit down in their house, and he liked her. That's just how he was.
(You just praised me for not getting sidetracked, but I'm letting myself wander down those memories a bit. He died last year. I miss him terribly.)
Anyway: Those stories were how I first started learning how to spin a yarn. I got older and I got more influence than just cowboys and Westerns, but the soul of my style is still just The American Tall Tale.
Which is to say that they're not outright fabrications. When I say that I cut all the worms up in my backyard and had a panic attack and hid in a tree until my mom got me, that happened. But I only remember the vaguest outlines of the words that were said. When there's a line in that story about my mom telling me that she's sure the worms will forgive me because they got six hearts to love and no bones to pick, that's not how she talks. That's how I talk.
Other stories, they're far less fuzzy than that, but I can still point out things I don't know. Wrestling story was from middle school, and a lot of those "crisp details" are just me painting by vibe. I've had some people that did wrestling through highschool point out things like refs not actually counting to three, or how double-legs are not actually super effective for tall wrestlers. I don't actually know how much the woman I wrestled weighed, nor do I remember how much I weighed, except that I was more than two weight classes smaller than her. Car incident, I got broke up with, went to her parents door, waited on the lawn, and was given some olives to go with a wireless phone. But exact wording of a lot of the people involved fails me. As a rule, the weirder an event is, the more likely I am to be distinctly remembering it and not just filling in the background. Except for dialogue, which often turns out weird because when I have to make up things for other characters to say, it carries too much of my own speaking style in it, and that's always been weird.
There are even points where things do come right off the rails. In the stories about J post, J himself became a sort of mythic figure after he moved, and lot of the stories about him, I don't even know I'm remembering them first hand or second hand from a story someone else shared with me.
I know it would be easier to just go, yeah, they're true, or no, they're not, but I did a weird thing and mixed them up and now even I'm a little confused.
Regarding publishing: I'm not published, and the thought of trying to get published scares the shit out of me. I
I don't know. If anyone has advice, I'd be interested.
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Take Me to War
PT1 Friendly Fire
Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader
A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.
Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.
PT 2 Here!
Two things I hate the most?
My neighbour and New York City.
They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.
I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.
It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.
I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.
I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.
It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.
Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.
The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.
I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.
Trust me, I have retaliated.
On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.
Almost.
I still hate it.
I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.
"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"
"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."
This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"
My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."
"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"
Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.
"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."
"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.
"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-
She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.
"Is everything alright?"
"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.
"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-
"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.
"Wait-
Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.
I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.
The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.
I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.
Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.
My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.
The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.
"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."
She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.
"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."
"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."
"What about the wall?"
Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."
I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."
"Okay?"
I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.
That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.
-
I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.
Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.
Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.
My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.
"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.
"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.
"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.
I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.
"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."
I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.
"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.
"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.
This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."
"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"
The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.
"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.
"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"
"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"
"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.
"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."
"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"
I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.
Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.
The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.
"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."
"Where's here exactly?"
"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.
I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"
"To make it out alive."
"And your name?"
"It's Ellie."
-
That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.
However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.
She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.
I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."
"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.
We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."
"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.
"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.
"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"
"Yeah, you've said-
"Do you wanna come and see?"
I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"
"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."
I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."
"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.
Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.
I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.
On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.
She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.
There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.
"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."
I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."
She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."
"Because I'd win?"
She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."
"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.
Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."
"Who are you talking to?"
"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.
"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."
"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."
"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"
"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."
"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."
"Okay, well-
"So you're like Logan Paul?"
Her eyes go wide "No-
"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."
"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."
I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"
Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.
The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.
My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."
A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!
#ellie williams#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x you#the last of us#the last of us ellie#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x reader#tlou#abby anderson#ellie williams au#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie tlou#joel and ellie#ellie williams x reader fluff#fluff#streamer!ellie#streamer!au#writer au#ellie x you#tlou hbo#tlou2
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art cr: @cokiicookies on twitter
Tags: Love Confessions, Bratfeen, Art Student Feenie, Law Student Bratworth, Ace Attorney-typical cringefail, Canon Divergence
and many others!
HEAVILY inspired by @cokiicookies's bratfeen art on twitter! check out the full comic there!!!
"Hey...so...uh..." Phoenix coughs out, voice scratchy from his most recent line repetitions. It's a small mistake, not unsalvageable. All he has to do is stick to the script. Stick to the script. Stick... His eyes flick down to his note cards. He swears he’d printed them in his best penmanship, atop one of the library's extra premium desks, but everything is spinning and he feels faintly like he's going to throw up. "Did you uh," he starts, letters swirling in his eyes. "Did...you fall out of heaven...?" Genius prosecutor-in-training Miles Edgeworth regards him with a blank stare. Phoenix thinks now would be an opportune time for him to locate the nearest possible bridge and promptly jump off of it. - The joys and woes (mostly woes) of being in love, as told by BratFeen.
so i caved and wrote narumitsu. another huge thank you to @cokiicookies on twitter for allowing me to write an accompanying fic for their work. i attached some of the comic here in an attempt to entice you to look at their comic (well? are you enticed?!), but if you wanna see the full thing, please do give their art a like, a retweet, a comment, and all the love on twitter! fic screenshots below:
misc commentary/musings under the cut :)
the way i wrote feenie inner monologue and narration parallels my informal writing style, so writing his freak outs weren't challenging. consciously changing sentence structures/verbiage to be more or less extra, on the other hand, totally was.
the bulk of my pain came from writing fluff in the first place, stumbling through dialogue exchanges (as always), and attempting larry dialogue...all of which i honestly think i failed at pretty badly HAHA. who cares tho? it's my work!
bratfeen is one of my favorite narumitsu "eras" if you will. i've always wanted to write them. i didn't know the opportunity would come so soon (and at my expense considering i still have a zine fic to finalize for a diff fandom), but i took the shot. the full fic was written over the course of a day which i do not recommend anyone experience. i was on a writing hiatus for months and wrote 8k words as soon as i came back. do you see why i burnt out in the first place?
the easiest part about writing bratfeen is that none of the things i write are exaggerated for the purpose of carrying the plot forward. feenie believing that bratworth is better of a human being than everyone makes him out to be? sounds about right. feenie insisting to others that miles is the best thing since grilled cheese? his raging savior complex says that's likely to occur. feenie fumbling the bag because he thinks miles is the prettiest thing he's ever seen? yeah, 20 y/o feenie would! feenie shoving the asshole who talked shit abt miles? we saw the exact same thing with doug swallow (and we all know how that ended...). all of it is in line w his character. also miles being a try hard. that's a given.
i am hoping i can showcase more of my technical skill aka the angst writer in me with my next work, though i've been closely following fictober (haven't been publishing because, again, zine fic obligations) and have plenty of angsty fics stored in my drafts. i hope you enjoy my poor attempt at humor and fluff. may i muster the strength to finish the rest of my zine fic...please...
#narumitsu#bratfeen#phoenix wright#miles edgeworth#ace attorney#narumitsu fanfiction#vel’s narumitsu fics
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