#and there may be a small epilogue | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yojeongin · 9 months ago

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it’s too bad you’re married to me | m.l

→husband!mark lee x f!reader | ft. jaehyun + jungwoo

genre: smut, angst, tragic romance, miscommunication, marriage au, 2000s au

synopsis: all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm denial, cum swallowing, jealousy, toxic relationship/love, insecurity, vomiting, work field harassment, mental health deteriorating, self sabotage, smoking, mentions of poor eating habits/self care, pregnancy, mark is a horrible husband. this is for the people who only know toxic and bad relationships, woohoo (...)

wc: 19.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

part 1 | part 2

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: it's been a year since I last updated the happy together series, I guess I lied when I said the stupid girl incident wouldn't happen with this one but hey it's finally over! this is an epilogue for happy together but can be read as it’s own part. yn’s character here isn’t the same as happy together, this is a completely different yn!! fun fact I came up with this before happy together lol

‘No one wants to think about it. About how your love may run out or hang by a thread because it’s that big, not able to be supported by one person alone. To even have the fleeting negative thought race in your mind. No one wants that.’ — April 25, 2004.

Life was sweet, it was a new romance never felt before (at least in your case). The type to make your heart swell at any sweet action. He was tender, sweet, and attentive. Whatever you asked of him, he’d have for you, ready and in your hands. Mark used to go out of his way for you but slowly the small things became a burden and any little task, he never wanted to do anymore.

Even so, now as you sit on your knees in between his legs, hearing his grunts from the pleasure he is enduring, you put off your own pleasure for his as long as the satisfaction of him feeling loved continues.

With his cock stuffed deep in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark held onto the messy comforter while you kept going. Your nose hitting his pubic bone, staying still for seconds just so he could feel the warmth of your throat around him.

At that feeling Mark allowed a disgruntled moan, loud and perfect. His hips buckle forward, causing you to gag. Tearing up and finger nails softly claw his thighs. That’s the most damage you allowed yourself to cause him. His hand wraps around your hair, the sting of his pulling mirroring the one of your clawing, he was relentless unlike you.

“You’re so good to me. You feel so good, fuck!” He groans, eyes tightly shut. “I love when you gag around me, it feels so good. As if your throat still hasn’t gotten used to me after all these years, pretty girl.”

Raking your nails on the lower back of his thighs, he hisses. With his hands holding onto your head, his thrusts get harder— almost as a counter attack.

The hand you had on his thigh comes in contact with his balls, pinching them where he likes. Playing with and twirling them. Mark’s thrusts become slow but harder, hitting the back of your throat more painful, nothing you wouldn’t take unwillingly, though. He knows you can and will take anything he gives you.

That’s how you knew he was extremely close. When his thrusts were rough and slow, the grip on your hair became tighter when he pushed you further down, becoming extra sensitive to the way you handle his testicles.

“Ah~ y/n… Please, just a bit more. Ahh…” He pants, stopping his thrusting momentarily until you pinch his scrotum, to which he whimpers loudly. Some sweat had accumulated on his neck and forehead. Glistening, he looked so beautiful, much more than he already is. Mark’s eyes were closed but he could feel your lingering gaze on him. He could feel the penetrating stare that looked at him with adoration.

When he couldn’t handle it furthermore and his thrusts against your throat were becoming sloppy, Mark’s eyes fluttered open, looking down at you, giving you one of his most tender smiles. You never got used to the way he looked at you. Even when he gave you his coldest glares, there was always a sense of adoration to them.

So one can only imagine the warmth and giddiness you felt when he looked at you this lovingly. Lovingly enough that he removed one hand from your head and placed it on your cheek. Thumb caressing your flesh, soft strokes contradicting the ones abusing your throat.

“What I wouldn’t do to be like this with you forever.” The words contradictory and cheeky to his caring caress, almost conniving.

Mark’s hips jolted forward, disgruntled moans left his lips but his eyes never left yours. Even after he screwed them shut momentarily from pleasure, he’d always open them to let you know how good he felt. Head thrown back, trying to regain his breath and calmness after the orgasm you had just given him. His hand strokes your head softly whilst you gaze up at him lovingly, your head resting on his thigh.

“Morning,” your voice snaps him out of it, looking down at you with a smile. “Really good morning.” He chuckles in a breath, leaning down as much to give you a soft and tender kiss, tasting himself on you. Pulling apart, Mark stands up, helping you up from the aching position you were in. Rubbing your knees momentarily to soothe the pang.

It didn’t take long enough to forget his care and make his path to the kitchen, you trailing behind like a lost puppy, ignoring your ache just to start the day for both of you. “Hey, can you do me a favor?” Your soft voice squeaked against his ear, making him turn to you slowly. A gleam of hope on your part as always.

“What is it?” You could see his emotions coursing through, already looking for excuses as always. “Just— can you pick up an order at Cafe 7 Dream? It’s for Venetia’s pregnancy leave party but I don’t have time to pick it up. Please? During your lunch break?”

Your eyes still glimmer with hope knowing well what his answer already is. “Oh… baby, you already know I can’t. I don’t even know where it is.” He ran a hand through his hair, walking past you after giving his famous apologetic pout.

Back to him, hopeful smile faltering, slowly closing your eyes disappointed but not surprised knowing the predicted outcome. You sigh quietly, basking in the background noise he made. Opening and closing the fridge door and pans moving around the stove top as if he truly had intentions to do something.

“I guess, yeah… it’s fine I’ll figure it out then.” Defeatedly, you make your way to him, watching him play with the knobs as if he didn’t know how a damn stove works, you only interfered when he opened the egg crate. Rushing to him you took it all off his hands, his faux complaining making you roll your eyes, him oblivious to how it wasn’t playful anymore. “Go shower, you’ll be late.” Still, your voice held no annoyance.

He chuckles, completely oblivious to your feelings as always. “Or we could shower together…” he suggests, not over the morning rendezvous. Wanting more and more, never satiated.

You didn’t have it in you to smile at him, shaking your head and dismissing him as you crack the eggs over the pan. He giggles, towards the bathroom, placing a playful slap to your ass on his way.

The walls were thin. You could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, the water running, and your thoughts bouncing off of them. Torturing you with the words and feelings you try to repress all the time in order to live in peace and in love with him.

You loved him. More than anything, to the point it was extremely painful despite him being yours. You’ve fought hard trying to make your love for him unconditional, there was no backing out anytime.

Moments like these in which he shut down your pleas, all you could do was restrain yourself from the ill thoughts your tired brain tried to throw at him. You couldn’t let anything get in between the both of you, not even yourself.

So instead you rather stand in front of the stove, moving the spatula around to make him his beloved sunny side up eggs. Funny enough, you hated them but if he wanted you to love them, you would.

Coming out of the bathroom, steam painting the mirrors and windows. Mark dries his hair with the towel sitting atop his shoulders, a sniffle leaves him, pulling the chair from the dining table, smiling at you with a ‘thank you’ rolling off his tongue while you set down his dishes and drink right in front of him.

“You’re not eating?” He questions the moment you sat beside him with just a pouch of Konjac Jelly. You could only smile and shake your head, suckling on the nozzle to get out the contents. You weren’t eating then and there, you just didn’t want to tell him you were getting breakfast with your colleague on your way to work.

Mark nodded before digging in on the yolk with his spoon, that expected smile on his face.

He talked and talked after every bite and chew. Mark was well aware of how much you liked to hear his voice, especially in the morning before he left you for work. Head resting on your palm as you watched him stack his plates, a smile plastered on your lips from his presence alone.

“Want me to drop you off? You’re gonna have to hurry though.” The clanking of the bowls on the sink as he passed water over them knowing you’d wash them eventually; making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting dressed.

Shaking your head as a response, he waits for your explanation. “I’m walking the entire week, don’t worry about me. Maybe I'll take the bus.”

How couldn’t he when both of your jobs were a tad bit far from home. It didn’t help that most of the time you got out late. At least he was thankful Jungwoo could drop you off whenever he wasn’t able to pick you up or simply didn’t feel like it.

“You know I don’t like it when you ride the bus, it’s always filled with… men at these hours. Take care, okay? Call me once you arrive or if something happens.”

Despite your smile of approval, what was he going to do when he can barely take care of himself?

Mark’s lips fell against yours the moment he opened the door to the apartment, towering over you for a few kisses before pulling away. “By the way, can you pick up my suit from the cleaners either later or tomorrow? I have a meeting at the end of the week.”

He was giddy asking you for a favor, clutching his backpack, ignoring the way you tried to not let your emotions show through your face. “Yeah… I’ll do it after work.” Your soft voice, trying its best to hide that tinge of bubbling vexation.

Mark smiled, a giggle leaving his throat whilst his hand caresses your cheek. “I’ll see you at night, baby.” You couldn’t answer, he had bolted towards the elevator. Only the daily bittersweet taste lingers once again.

Shutting the door behind you, your eyes immediately travel to the pile of dishes he left for you on the sink, not even allowing your sighs to escape by how familiar this scene has become. It was rather frustrating for Mark to not notice your obvious signs of unhappiness with him. He knew you loved him, perhaps more than he loved you, which he tends to ignore to not throw himself off.

But that love he thinks you have was blinding him from all the realities of how dysfunctional the relationship was. It was pitiful that his friends were the only ones to actually notice them.

“Markie, morning!” Johnny’s cheerful voice booms against his ear, hand softly patting the younger man’s shoulder as he signals to follow him and Jaehyun to the break room while handing him a cup of coffee.

Mark returned the greeting to both of the men standing in front of him, conversing as if he didn’t see them almost daily. From joke after joke, Jaehyun’s phone beeped constantly, the other two ignoring it as he checked it with a giddy smile plastered on his face; Johnny asks if they’d like to get lunch during their break.

Mark immediately agreed to the offer, taking some of the last sips from his coffee. They spoke about restaurant options but upon Jaehyun not answering, rather typing, the blackberry keys louder than his coworkers, the two turned to ask again.

“Jaehyun, you’re down for lunch?” Johnny questions, making his way towards the trash can, depositing away his cup, the eyes on the ‘7’ icon turning to Mark. Jaehyun hums in response, putting his phone away before actually speaking. “Uh, maybe next time. I have something to do.” An apologetic smile, Johnny understanding but Mark lets out a teasing chuckle.

“Lunch with a special friend?”

“Actually, I’m helping your wife.”

He didn’t want to make it obvious but Jaehyun put enough emphasis on ‘your’. “She asked for a favor and I always say yes, so...” Jaehyun shrugs, sipping the last of his own coffee.

The air was shifting to hostility the more Mark’s expression began to change, slowly but surely. His eyes followed every move Jaehyun made, ignoring how all the 7’s glared at him, even his own. Johnny was no fool, if Jaehyun couldn’t feel the building hostility, Johnny was clearly feeling and seeing it. His eyes advert from both men as he watched how quickly a mood can be annihilated.

“Always? What do you mean, always?” Mark turns his back to the other two —almost to shield himself from the accusatory numbers—, throwing away his not empty cup and going to the sink to wash off the stickiness from the coffee that spilled on the sides.

The second oldest man mustered a shrug, taking a cup from the water cooler and pouring some in to get rid of that coffee taste on his tongue. Bitter coffee taste, the one lacing Mark. “I mean, I can’t say no to her… if she’s busy and can’t run an errand she asks me to run it for her and in return she bakes me a cheesecake. We all win!” Johnny smiles at Jaehyun at the mention of the desert and his unconvincing naivety.

Mark didn’t speak, his mouth forming an ‘O’ at the realization that the reason you always baked was not for you or your coworkers but for his friend. For doing something you had originally asked of him. Just in the past month you had baked six cheesecakes and all of them after you asked him for a favor that he turned down. All this time he thought you were just baking for pleasure but now he knows Jaehyun helps ease your stress. Jaehyun, not Mark.

“I’m gonna head back…” Johnny’s voice broke him out of his train of thought, the elder’s eyes adverting from his two younger friends before opening the door. Jaehyun announces that he’ll follow behind, leaving Mark to his own thoughts for just a second.

One could call that the start of his demise. If anything Mark would’ve been better off knowing you did everything on your own but now he felt an unjust slight resentment that you ran to one of his friends. Guilt, if you will, for his own faults.

He didn’t let the thought go the entire day and it didn’t become better once you had arrived back home with groceries and his suit in hand. Worse off, he saw you struggle with the heavy items but he made no effort to help, rather analyzed the components in your hands. Contrary to you, upon seeing him, a warm smile spreads on your face. Putting everything down and going up to him to envelope him in an embrace and a tender kiss.

“Hi…” your breathy voice showing obvious signs of agitation.

“Hey… why are you so late?” He questions, accusatory for something he’s not sure what he’s looking for yet; a minute frown as he looks through the contents of your grocery totes. Cream cheese, graham cracker, sweet condensed milk… a pit in his stomach formed, a growing feeling of confusion followed.

“Another cheesecake?” He questions, taking out the items and starting to put them away. To say you were taken aback was an understatement, your chest swole and you felt some relief seeing he was actually helping. You nod, holding onto the back of a chair to catch yourself. Mark hums, turning to look at you. Upon seeing how sunken and dull you were looking, his expression turned to one of concern.

“Have you eaten?” Mark asks, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah! We had a dinner party for Venetia’s leave.” ‘I told you about it..’ you want to add. No matter, you knew it was futile with how he hums in response. It was true about the dinner part but you hadn’t eaten there, Jungwoo and you had decided to blow it off and go to a soup bowl restaurant instead.

He hums again, putting away all the other groceries and leaving just the cheesecake items. “Seventh cheesecake this month isn’t it?”

His piqued interest sounded hostile and cold, eradicating any sense of relief that he cared. “Yeah, why not?” Responding with a smile and knitted eyebrows, Mark didn’t add more. In turn, he took his items from the living room to the bedroom, opting to continue working there.

Looking at the empty spot he left, a sigh left your lips before continuing to fulfill your part of the deal with Jaehyun. You didn’t know if the sigh was from relief or grief. Regardless, his care was too good to be true.

The next morning he had woken to your spot on the bed empty and cold, a building resentment and loneliness starts to grow when times before he didn’t feel them. Odd.

Giving himself a few minutes of rest time until he decided to get up and do his daily routine. By the time he had reached the table, his breakfast was covered to keep the warmth in, glowering when he noticed it was slightly warm but getting cold. A note on the side of his dishes.

‘Decided to head early. Sorry in advance if the food gets cold. Love, y/n’

A small heart next to your name, Mark smiles to himself. As he ate his breakfast, his concerns and the slight jealousy he had gained overnight dissipated. He felt foolish for questioning your relationship with Jaehyun. What was there for him to be jealous of? Hell, Jaehyun was taking care of the burdens he didn’t want to, that’s a win-win situation, no? Jaehyun gets his treat, you remain content, and he isn’t bothered. Yeah, he can now think clearly and see that’s fair. Nothing ever comes out of your close friend being nice and considerate of your wife, right?

Hmm…

Nevertheless, Mark shakes his head with a goofy content smile whilst he drops his dishes in the sink, passing cold water over them. You picked up his suit yesterday and today it was hanging, freshly steamed furthermore. His shoes clean and shiny by the door, food you cooked for him in his system, and overall a lovely note you wrote him. Mark knows you love him and only him, what a stupid little preoccupation yesterday was.

“Dumbass.” He chuckles to himself, squeezing a plushie he had gotten you that ever since, you left on the bed, your smell on it; you’d always be near him and oh how he loved that security. Surely he has to let you know how he adores your love.

Walking towards your desk to look for whatever piece of paper, he sat on your chair, opening the drawers and searching for at least a sticky note.

Upon finding the nearest notebook, Mark pulled it out along a pen. Opening it to where he could find a clean page; he stumbled on multiple pages of frantic writing and numbers written all over. Sometimes they went down and sometimes they went up, if the number was higher than last, a large ‘x’ crossed it in red. He didn’t think much of it, maybe something to do with work statistics?

Curiosity still got the best of him, he’s never seen you write messily. Everything you’ve written has been tidy and neat, so this was interesting. Flipping through the pages, he found two lists. They read the same thing but the one on the left had more x’s whilst the one on the right had check marks, sometimes nothing.

Pick up cleaners,

fix the leak in the kitchen

pick up order from cafe 7 dream

find a new car inspection place

pick up Venetia’s leave cake

Those were all things you had asked him to do and things he had told you he couldn’t do on account of all the excuses he made. All striked through, ink bolder and fresher the more recent the task was. All those crosses were for him and he figured all the check marks were for Jaehyun.

Some of the stuff seemed too intimate for Jaehyun to do for you. Picking up the cleaners? Fix the leak? Find a car inspector?

Jaehyun had no responsibility to find any of this stuff for you but there he was doing what Mark couldn’t and that jealousy he felt yesterday was back again. That meant you hadn’t picked up his suit yesterday, right? It was Jaehyun who had done so and his grubby hands must’ve left oils for you to steam it again?

God, no… he was being irrational again!

The more he flipped through the pages, Mark read the small and longer paragraphs. Most of them written frantically and showed obvious frustration. It seemed to be completely full of vent paragraphs. You wrote down your desperations and thoughts, often seeming angry and saddened. He cared for all that but they became unreadable the more upset you became as you went on.

Few things that made his head pound and chest start to rip apart were how many times he read two names over and over: ‘Jungwoo’ and ‘Jaehyun’. You met them through him, he had brought them into your life but now he was finding that to be a mistake.

Ironic, isn’t it? You spoke so well of them. Every paragraph regarding them was neatly written and cohesive. For the most part you were just thanking them for making your life easier.

‘Keep forgetting to look for new posts, Jungwoo has been helping but he seems kinda down when he does.’

‘Dinner coordinator keeps bringing the same catering and it’s growing tiring, seaweed treats are hell. Thank god Jungwoo took me out instead. — 03.29.08, 22:37.’

Last night’s date. You had told him you ate at the company dinner but instead went out with his friend and didn’t think to tell him, opting to lie about it. He knew you loved him but now he was questioning if the amount was just as big as he thought.

‘Wonder if Jaehyun is getting tired of these favors and cheesecakes. I don’t think he even finishes an entire one in a month and I’ve baked seven for him, I fear for his fridge. It’s not as big as I thought now that he moved. Nevertheless, thank god I can count on him to actually do these favors for me.’

The last part stung horribly. It didn’t seem to be a jab on him from how you wrote it but he took it as such given he always did something wrong when you asked him to just so you would stop or he’d make excuses for the same reason. He now took issue with you preferring Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s help over his.

He also hadn’t told you Jaehyun moved apartments so there was no reason for you to know how big his fridge was. It stung more that neither of his friends told him about the close friendship they held with you, his wife.

The last note on the paper is what caught his attention; ‘Lunch with Jungwoo at Cafe 7 Dream, 12:30 today.’

It’s only 08:35 in the morning as of right now; he got dressed and put away all your stuff trying his best to make it seem like he didn’t rummage through. As he buttoned up his shirt all he could think about was going to said cafe and seeing what it was all about. A part of him told him to stop being stupid, you and Jungwoo were friends too given the company you two work in, so a lunch shouldn’t be bad. But he couldn’t shake off this uncertainty.

His day went monotonously. From the moment he made his way out of the apartment, to his daily drive through the freeway with a clear view of a big ‘7,' not drinking his daily coffee with his colleagues, to now being back in the car, looking at that same ‘7’ he sees daily while he roams for a parking spot.

Whatever was playing on the radio was static and the air around him stuffy, not even the rolled down windows being able to aid him. It was around 12:53 in the afternoon when he had arrived and parked a few spots away from the vast window of the cafe. Bringing down the sun visor, fingers strumming on the steering wheel, and his lips pursed, eyes roaming the area— Mark had spotted you and his friend in the outdoor section.

His initial jealousy wasn’t present right now, he was mostly focused on the image that had never been presented to him: you were visibly upset. Throughout your six years of being together, you always remained calm and even when he spewed vile things towards you during one-sided arguments you never cracked.

Maybe that’s why you’ve lasted this long. He could say whatever he pleased and kept off his chest while you never gave him a negative reaction. For the most part whenever you didn’t respond in the arguments he’d angrily walk out of the situation to go meet with his friends while he left you to scribble your feelings onto the journal he stumbled upon just today.

Your arms flailed, hands forming into claws that whenever you were spewing something that angered you, clung to your flesh, leaving dents on it— must have been that intense if he could see those forming. Your hair was disheveled but your clothes intact besides the pantyhose you were clawing at earlier. You didn’t look dull anymore but you did look on the brink of angry tears.

In contrast to you, Jungwoo leaned back on his metal chair, hair kept well combed, suit intact and ironed, with a shit eating grin on his face as he nodded with everything you said. His words were slow, helping Mark in reading his lips and only being able to read just that sentence: “Let it all out, you don’t deserve this.” Every time he said those words, you’d slump over the table, head resting on your hands and nodding to yourself.

The perplexed expression on Mark’s face never left. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, leaning in against his wheel as if any of that would help him listen to the conversation. It worsened when Jungwoo took a small box from his pocket, handing it to you in which you’d give him an apologetic smile for ranting to him while also being thankful.

He didn't understand where all this came from. You have always been so calm, never letting things affect you let alone smoke. Hell, you're the reason he stopped smoking but here you were doing what he used to do with his friend.

At this moment he didn’t understand why he had rushedly gotten out of his car and inside the building. All the courage he mustered to go inside dying whenever he saw the both of you stand up from the table after paying.

His heart was palpitating in horror. He couldn’t excuse why he was there this time, he told you he didn’t know where this place was so it would only worsen your already horrible mood. Not to mention, he had nothing to say. How would he start the conversation? “I know I’ve lied to you about this place but what the fuck is your deal with Jungwoo and Jaehyun? What’s your journal all about?” No, he can’t let you know he’s been snooping, let alone have you think he’s jealous.

Mark could only follow behind a group of people walking to the counter, hiding amongst them and hoping you stayed enthralled in your conversation to not notice him. At least he was thankful he could finally hear the conversation but that dissipated the moment he heard Jungwoo’s voice.

“If you keep pushing away and shutting off your frustrations with him this won’t end well. You can’t just conform to keep him with you and let him do all he’s doing. You can’t let him act the way he does and hope he changes without asking. You know what my grandma would say? If you don’t speak, God won’t hear you. And he’s not hearing you. Are you not miserable in the relationship?”

It stung. It painfully stung deeply in his heart that he truly felt he was having a heart attack right now, cardiac arrest— whichever. It sounded oddly familiar.

“Mark says, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.’ So which is it?” Jungwoo laughs, shrugging. “Seems God can’t make up his mind or he's fucking with us just because he can.”

Sadly for the both of you this was only the start of your demise. As for the following weeks, Mark had begun to dig deeper into this madness he was slowly learning he had created. Every time he was home alone, Mark began to read the notebook he had found. Your writing didn’t become any less incomprehensible but he was starting to learn what certain loops meant.

He wouldn’t say your writings were enjoyable, rather more concerning than anything but this is the closest he’ll get to truly knowing you. It still baffles him that after six years of being together, you were capable of hiding this much from him. The only time he could recall you actually being mad was the time both of you crossed paths with one of his childhood friends.

The atmosphere turned hostile and tense as the older male reprimanded him for not inviting them to his wedding to which Mark said he did, he even gave his mother the invitation directly to give to them. The look the two shared had made your insides churn, in that instance you wanted to cut your own chest to relieve that sting within.

You could handle a lingering look and his friends' questioning remarks whenever speaking to you, but what killed you was that it took him a week to regain his dignity after he bid him goodbye with a kiss to his cheek. The words: “They long to see you.” Cascading from his lips, but Mark smiles tenderly and awkwardly.

Mark only recalls you giving him blank stares and taking a while to answer him, conversations non-existent unless he started them. But Jungwoo got to see you tear your desk down, shred paper after paper, and cry in agony at the same time that entire week, knowing well what the older man had meant, you weren’t stupid after all, he’s not the only one who’s read someone’s secret stash of letters.

That’s the only time he thinks you’ve been mad at him or resentful enough. If only he knew how many fits Jungwoo has experienced and cleaned. But while you might not be foreign to an empty bed, Mark was. When he felt your side of the bed still neatly made and the duvet cold, a sense of fear made him shoot up.

He had gotten home before you that day once again, trusting that Jungwoo was giving you a ride not long after he arrived like always. After a few hours of working on some data and analysis to the point of not being able to eat the dinner you had woken up early to cook for him. Mark had decided to rest for a while not thinking of taking a nap until his eyelids feel heavy and his slumber commenced.

That was around 6:43pm, now it’s midnight with no signs of you in the bedroom and if he knew anything from those six months of living with a married couple— one of the spouses was up to something.

That’s where his fear rose and his chest started to constrain his breathing. You would never do anything to hurt him, right? Mark knew you loved him. Yes, you love him, you’d never do anything of the style. You're not her.

You're not her...

Opening the bedroom door with such force; he startled you, jumping once the doorknob slammed against the wall. His fears dissipated the instance his eyes laid on your sitting figure. Crouched over your desk with a pen on hand and arm covering the pages of that same notebook. While he was relieved to see you, now he was worried of what else you could add to wreck his nerves.

“When did you get home?” His raspy voice questions. You shrug, taking his presence, closing the notebook and shoving it into one of your desk drawers.

“Maybe an hour ago? Jungwoo got quite drunk so Jaehyun took a while to pick us up.”

Mark knew what jealousy felt like, he’s experienced it in the most hateful way and over all these years he trusted you enough to never feel this strongly ever again but his friends were starting to test his patience. It may be subconscious and a self inflicted fear but Mark knows what friends can do.

“You didn’t say you were going out with Jungwoo.” That pitch of irritation laced his tongue, every word getting louder the more he shook his slumber away. His eyebrows furrowed unconsciously. He really didn’t want to have any reaction but he can’t reap what he sows.

Mark always started like this when an argument would ensue. You could handle his vile words and reproaches but you had a presentation tomorrow and the last thing you needed was for him to treat you like shit at midnight. You’ve had enough of your supervisor for that.

“Company dinner meeting, Mark… I told you about the presentations.” Your voice was betraying you with how whiny it came out. But could anyone blame you? You had been ecstatically talking about this for almost a month, even Johnny knew about it. It just seems the man you married couldn’t be bothered enough to remember.

Mark tried his hardest to pick at his brain and recollect the memories of you telling him. It was of no help that you hadn’t written about it in your journal either. All he had left was to deflect.

“You could’ve called me to pick you up, though? Why did you have to call Jaehyun?”

“Would you have gone? You've been sound asleep the while I've been here.”

Your tone took him aback, this was the first time he could hear some attitude and mocking in your voice. He didn’t know whether to be happy that for once you spoke to him like this or angry that the mention of Jaehyun was eliciting this response, almost as if you’re defending him.

Noticing the look of confusion on his face, you retracted any possibility of continuing this ensuing argument. Just like him, you’ll avoid any further action.

“Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a bit.”

He didn’t listen, just sunk his feet deeper into the tile, processing the whiplash of your actions. On the contrary, you walked past him to the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the stereo system, hoping your nightly ritual would help you not think about these happenings. Him? He’ll sulk like he is not at fault.

‘Oh, I think you’re holding the heart of mine. Squeeze it apart, that's fine…’ The melody mocks and lulls him goodnight.

A similar situation happened days later. The days building up to that night, you hadn’t asked him for any favors. Times before he’d be glad but now he grew weary. The only outlier was that you weren’t baking, so had the rewards gone further than sweet treats? How far could you go?

No! Stop! Mark knows you’d never do anything like that, you’re not her, that’s a huge reason he fell for and married you. You ar– were perfect.

But then, why haven’t you asked anything of him yet? Was it truly futile now?

Deja vu hit, the bed was cold beside his own spot, your plushie thrown to the floor (the only difference), no sign of you, but the second he swung the door open, there you were. Sitting mindlessly on your desk, scribbling things he couldn’t see but knew he would struggle to understand later. He approached slowly, the only light source the lamp before you.

“What are you doing?” His voice is curious and soft in comparison to last time. You shrug like before, scribbling. “Nothing.” Precise yet somehow cold. No matter how much closer he got, by only a step, you shut the journal, throwing it in your drawer and turning the lamp off. He didn’t know how to take it, your actions swift and nonchalant but regardless you still made the effort to kiss him goodnight on the way to complete your night routine.

01:48 read the stereo system. Mark hums, this night’s song mocking him again while his eyes look into the darkness and curves of your desk, directly at the drawer that held all your grievances. He contemplates it but it’s no use tonight.

‘I love him so much, it just turns to hate. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake. And someday you will ache like I ache.’ He chuckles, turning it off.

The next day was enough. You had left before him again, no reason as to why either but later he had learnt that Jaehyun had gotten into the office late with a Cafe 7 Dream drink in hand and not bought by Johnny.

He had taken your absence as an opportunity, looking at the positioning of things in your desk carefully to remember how he’d put everything back. Slowly but surely, he took the journal out, opening it to the new pages.

With the journal in hand, he steps into the kitchen, sitting on the dining table where his warm food rested. Warm enough to let him know you left not long ago. Effortlessly, he uncovers it, sliding the plates towards him and standing up to get a drink. The ice-cold water pitcher sat in front of him and he began his tasks.

‘Guilt floods me every time I ask Jaehyun and Jungwoo for favors. Is this excessive? Poor Jaehyun looks so tired, I think I have to ease it. He may claim it’s fine but how much cheesecake or danishes can someone eat without feeling the weight of burden grow as fat around his muscles?’ “What a way with words,” Mark scoffs to himself, accidentally biting the inside of his cheek, his teeth scolding him.

‘Jungwoo on the other hand is probably exhausted from my complaining. I see this as my karma for all the times I told friends to leave their bummy boyfriends. I get it now. This feeling is too strong. I can't just end it, I think… Regardless, I do need to stop with the favors, hell they’re easy so I can do them but it’s nice to not hear them complain or make excuses instantly. That’s selfish of me but I deserve some self indulgence from time to time. No… not at their expense at least...‘

00:59 at the time you began writing that.

He didn’t like that. He’s read enough for the past few weeks but nothing like this. The bummy part even less.

He won’t deny that he wished your food got stuck in his throat and suffocated him so he can drop dead with your journal in hand and true guilt arises in you when you find his body but that’s not him, that’s his jealousy and anger speaking. Maybe he was getting influenced by your entries, this is something you would say just not to him.

Mark scoffs again, sighing heavily, and pushing his chair to get out. He leaves the food uncovered and dishes dirty to complete his morning routine. Despite his anger he puts back your journal not counting on the wet back from the water pitcher but flaws are meant to happen when you’re letting frustration blind you.

The day went in a blur from then until lunch. Snapped out of his trance by Johnny shaking his shoulder and their manager next to the taller man, Mark gave the two a fish out of the water look. One that made his manager pinch the bridge of his nose but shook it off while Johnny on the other hand gave him a questioning look. The man wasn’t stupid, he could see how distant Mark had been and at most kept to himself despite trying to act like everything is fine and bond with him and Jaehyun, but he’s not that great at covering the heart on his sleeve.

“Here, take the intern with you and ask for the lunch platter at Cafe 7 Dream, the meeting is in less than an hour and we still aren’t prepared.” The manager rushedly spoke, handing him his credit card, the gray hairs on his side seemingly growing with every word he spoke. It was a large investment meeting and he needed to secure this but he had been so careless that their hospitality was a wreck.

Nevertheless, Mark agreed, the new intern standing behind the other two men that he hadn’t noticed her until she popped out, startling him a bit. She was young and timid, he hadn’t heard her speak but that little jump she caused him made her laugh apologetically.

That’s the most verbal communication they had through the ride to the cafe. The radio was adamant on playing TVXQ and she enjoyed it while he focused more on the sounds the tires made and the honking from outside. Even when they arrived at the cafe they didn’t speak, if anything their expression said it all. He seemed tired and uninterested while she was indifferent with only polite smiles to her senior.

Crossing the threshold of the first doors, a familiar figure stops in front of him much to the other’s confusion when his indifference turns into a content smile. No matter how frustrated he was with what he had read, an inkling in him will always remind him of the affection he has for you. “Y/n, hi!” He exclaims, turning to you a hand reaching for your shoulder. You’re not too sure how genuine his giddiness is but in the moment for Mark, it’s the most sincere thing ever, more than you have ever been.

It’s not enough to convince you though, with your eyes flitting between him and the intern as he kisses your cheek and the other stands awkwardly behind only flashing you a quick greeting smile before looking around.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice broke the interactions, a hint of annoyance and to an extent accusatory over something that you haven’t voiced, turning to her again before looking back at him. The young girl wasn’t quite sure of how you felt but knew it was a safer bet to go order before their boss called, clenching his ass from how fast time went and he didn’t have things ready.

Clearing her throat, “I’m going to go order… The card?” She extends both hands, Mark takes out their manager’s card and hands it to her who bolts to the register. It doesn’t take Mark long to turn to you, smile slowly faltering, seeing your stare. Unsure if it’s a glare or if that’s how you look at someone when no longer adoring.

“Manager sent us to get something for a meeting.” He brings his smile back, hoping that would help. Yet, you hum and that’s all he gets. It takes a few seconds until your mouth, like a fountain, unexpectedly spouts something. “I’ve asked you to get things for me from here but you always say you don’t know where this place is.” A soft huff leaves you while forcing a smile. You can feel warmth rush from your skull down to your feet. It’s not pleasant, at all, but you can’t lose your cool right now. Not in front of him.

Perhaps if this had happened before reading your entries, Mark would have dismissed it but now he was growing knowledge of your behavioral cues and he can see your hands go behind your back, allowing your nails to cling onto your bare skin.

He musters a sigh and looks at his watch, the meeting was near. “We can talk about this later, pretty girl.” His hand reaches your arm to stop you although he makes sure to not let you know he knows about your little habit.

You shake your head, smiling up at him and going in for a kiss. “No, it’s cool, it’s fine. I just– don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later at home, okay? Okay.” You didn’t wait for a response and habits don’t die so he found it preferable to drop it. At least he’ll probably read about it in your journal soon and not have you complain in his ear.

Of course you’re not going to be in his ear when you’re on your phone frantically typing something and soon putting it to your own. Seems you’ll be blowing someone else’s ear off and it’s likely the poor loser will be Jungwoo. With every motion, flailing arm, and facial contortion– Mark knew enough of how this little thing made you feel and all he could react with was a grunt.

On weekends, by the time he began to rustle in bed and stretch, he’d be greeted with kisses and tight embraces. They often made him giggle but this weekend was much different. Once again, he woke up with the plush on the floor, a cold bed, and the window closed with only the racket outside the bedroom door. Everything was muffled but if there’s something he identified was the smell of food being made and those two laughs he’s known very well for quite a while now.

With some surprise, he jolts up. His body aches from the lack of stretching but his feet don’t care and drag him out of bed. Opening the door he’s met with Jungwoo and Jaehyun bickering about how heavy the couch was, soon to shift their attention to the movie that had been playing through broadcast TV. On the other hand he turned to look at you taking out things from a cabinet, Jungwoo rushing to help, a screwdriver in hand as he inspected the door– it creaked.

“Morning…” He greets, stretching a bit and hiding his yawn behind his arm. You make way towards him but the other two were quicker, taking his hand and continuing their greeting-shake. By the time you reach him, he kisses the top of your head, your arms around his torso in a hug like they should’ve been when he woke up. Jaehyun and Jungwoo throw each other a glance, one you both miss but that they mask with their teasing towards Mark.

“Morning? It’s nearly two.” Jaehyun begins, “Can you blame him? What does he have to do on a lovely Saturday?” Jungwoo continued but it came out rather bitter despite trying to be playful. Mark manages to laugh just like the rest of you, it doesn’t change the warning look you throw at Jungwoo who ignores it while removing the cabinet door, showing more chipped parts to it.

“Can you help me find something, then?” Mark dismisses the other two, looking directly down at you. Without hesitating you nod, walking to the room with him, your grasp on his torso not falling, rewarded with a tender smile of his. Unbeknownst to you two, the other pair give each other a glance again, although this time it lingers on each other. Disappointment and exhaustion painting itself on their features before going back to the favors.

The wooden door shut behind you two, Mark makes way to the restroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, leaving you situated on the bed and confused. “What are we looking for?” You question with some excitement as if this was a task you truly wanted when making him happy was enough.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” He finally speaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hair strands damp. “They’re just fixing some stuff.” You ease softly, smiling up at him as he stares at you.

His hand perched on your shoulders, pushing you down on the mattress and met with a surprised squeaking giggle that he shut immediately with a kiss. Those same hands wrapped around your body pulling you flush against him as his tongue works against your own.

Lips became slick by the moment but he felt so much pour into that kiss. So much longing and desire. A mixture of lust and guilt and that balance may be why he felt the need to keep you here in this room with him and not out there with those vultures.

Possession is the word he’s looking for.

His hands began a journey down your body, feeling every curve until they rested on your hips. Inching closer to the hem of your shorts, teasing their entrance under. It was enough for you to gasp quietly, feeling his cold damp fingers while he kissed you, smiling into it. He swallowed every word and protest before you could even spew them.

Your own hands on his hair, lips submissive to his. A moan when you feel his digits fully in between your legs. You shake your head but not in protest but rather of how much you needed his touch. “Say something…” He whispers against your lips, no smile on his face. “Please…” You beg, his fingers making slow circles to not hurt you but enough to get you to lubricate and use that instead.

The scene was greedy and lustful but ultimately, he was reminded of those two out there and the reason as to why they were present lingered. Was the couch and cabinet door that important that you had to call the little crew? No matter how displayed you are for him, with your hands holding onto him, lips kissing his own, and legs open for his own disposition– Mark was still aggravated.

Softly he pulled away from you, caressing your face with his free hand while his fingers went to work. “Why didn’t you ask me to help instead of them?” He tries to seem soft spoken like his caresses but those become rougher the more he speaks. “Would you have done it?” There he knew how much little faith you had on him and the scene from a while back repeats.

“I’d go to the end of the world for you, Y/n.” Mark confesses into the kiss, neither of you too sure how truthful that was. His fingers make their entrance into you, slowly moving to elicit a response. Your body ran hot, his clothed figure above you, silently begging for you to at least believe a fraction of what he said. Those pleading and mopping eyes as he pumped his ring and middle finger, increasing the pace.

You believe me like a God,

‘You’re being so cruel.’ You want to tell him, to engrave it in his brain but it instead came out as a pleased disgruntled moan, one he took as accepting his lies. Mark smiles, head tilting to the side before lowering it to begin kissing your chest. Tongue lapping on the dents your collarbones create, whispering his ailments in them to the point of flooding and creating lakes that flowed down to your perked nipples after unbuttoning your blouse. His tongue, scorching and velvet against them. Granted was a jolt and a gasp when you felt his mouth wrap around one, biting softly to soon suction on the tit.

I’ll destroy you like I am.

Teeth grace your goosebump filled skin, kissing where his teeth left razor marks. Threatening crimson to spill only to be a false alarm, lingering pain and pleasure was all that was intended to reside. His fingers slowed the pace, blunt thrusts per second that left an ache between your legs when his palm came in contact with your outer skin, but oh how good it felt when his fingers hit your sweet spot. It doesn’t help that by this point he had inserted a third finger, the stretch causing so much more need within you.

His mouth travels up the path he created after years of savoring your body. Tongue feeding the dried stream, cool when its source disappeared to carve marks on your neck. It was so juvenile but he wanted you to go out of that room with some swelling for those two to see. Eliciting another moan from you, Mark’s free hand softly comes up to your mouth, covering and sealing it with shushes against your ear.

“Do you want them to know what we’re doing?” He whispers in the same location, you shake your head fervently, feeling hazy and growing even more needy. “Good girl.” He grins, removing his hand to hold your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. His teeth gracing your lower lip, softly nipping it to soon ease the pain he’s caused with his tongue– as he always does.

His fingers kept working their magic between your legs despite the constriction of your shorts, his wedding band no longer feeling cold inside of you but the fact that he didn’t think about removing it made you feel more aroused. To feel that metal piece unite you besides legality but through flesh and body.

Mark must have felt your growing arousal, especially with how much easier it was to ease his fingers within you. The clamping of your walls, more of a clue. In this instance he wanted to be cruel, and he attempted so. His hand stopped moving, rapidly getting out of your shorts and causing a desperate groan to leave your lips, legs quivering from the abrupt halt.

Just as he was going to cause a drought to the land of your skin and mouth, your hands took a hold of his body. Wrapping around his shoulders to hold him near, causing him to stumble slightly but not to topple over you; able to hold himself up. He won’t deny that knocked the wind out of him to a degree, feeling like in any instant he could have crushed you but pride and satisfaction soon filled him.

“Please, Mark… let’s finish at least.” You beg, your voice drunk off of his touch and whiny from how long it had been since you received anything from him. “Yeah? You want that?” He questions, making fun of you with that smug grin on his face, remaining features feigning compassion. He smiles at your desperate nod, mimicking the motion when he laughs quietly, kissing you again.

Swallowing every single one of your silent moans that he told you to keep quiet to not let those two outside know what he was doing to you. Thing is, he did want them to know, he wanted them to see how fucked you will look once he is done with you. He wants them to see how your legs spasm when trying to walk and see how marked and irritated your neck is. He’s simply making fun of you right now and you’re falling for it because you will be anything he wants. Even a fool.

His hand slowly slides off your shorts and panties, caressing your warm legs in the process. His once calloused fingers from his creative days that he left behind now soft and tender. You held his face in between your own hands, making sure he never kept too much distance between your lips, that fresh taste of mint still lingers on his tongue.

“But do you deserve it?” Mark immediately stops his caressing and kissing, the words echoing in the cavern of your mouth, you swallow them. His gaze is cold but curious, scanning your own for a response, a witty one.

In this instance he tries to remove his touch from you, your grip on him despite how his knee teases its clothed friction against your exposed and destitute clit. He had been denying you an orgasm for the past fifteen minutes, depriving the other two from knowing what was going on but Mark didn’t care, he was luxuriating in this.

“You’re being so cruel.” You finally say the words that had been covering the walls of your brain and heart. Needy yet angry tears prickling the corner of your closed eyes. It wasn’t just lust but the fact that he was playing dirty when you’re so vulnerable and in dire need of getting something from him. For once.

“You think so?” His knee stops, eyebrow quirking, shit-eating grin falling. You nod, a pout forming, making things worse. ‘Did you really have to cry now?’ He asks himself, huffing as he shakes his head, pulling down his sleeping shorts.

“You jump to conclusions so quickly, it's always such a shame.” He doesn’t dare look directly at your face as he speaks this, knowing that the constraint and squeeze of your heart was showing. No, instead you’re met with the warm feeling of his spit falling off his tongue onto your cunt, some on the tip of his cock.

To be given something forced you to shut your eyes, a moan of relief enclosed within the four walls of the bedroom you shared with him. It became louder when you felt the intrusion of his dick within your walls, his mouth covering yours to drown those sounds. He likes to cherish these sounds for his own entertainment.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust to him, the girth feeling foreign despite how familiar you are with every inch and crevice of his body. Slowly, he picks up the pace, raising your leg to prop it beside him. “See how things turn out when you’re patient?” He asks, searching for your eyes but they’re shut.

The most he gains are pleasured moans in the crook of his neck. Mark can’t figure out how satisfied he is with that answer, so his hand opts to slap the inside of thigh, causing you to whine but reward it with kisses to his neck.

To be fair you didn’t think this could last long. Not when you abstain from self gratification, knowing that only he can bring you to an orgasm and given it’s been a while since you two slept together, an orgasm was long overdue. The friction of his pelvis on your clit while he thrusted was not helping. Just feeling that extra sense of overstimulation while his shaft filled every nook and cranny of your cunt, feeling his length bulge in your stomach.

Holding your body to his, your face buried in his neck begging him to please let you come. The hand beneath you pushing you flush against his own body. If it wasn’t for his shirt as of now, he’d be more vocal with how well you’re both feeling his cock go in and out of you. For now he’s relying on his sweet words, worshiping how well you’re taking him.

Specifically: “Feel how perfectly you were meant for me, pretty girl?” He grabs your hand holding his shoulder, pressing it against your stomach and for some reason that makes you feel like you could come any second now, begging him silently to let you. To please grant you this one thing.

“Fuck, Mark… just give me this, please…” You cry out, eyes screwed shut, lashes wet from pained and pleasured tears. You felt it in your core, you felt how bad your body clamored for some release.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks, his own words struggling to come out unlike the pre-come lining your walls. “As much as you.” You claim, fingernails clinging to his skin, a shallow groan leaving him. He likes to know how much you need him and if you were going to the lengths of hurting him to leave your message, so be it.

With every thrust, your nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades, sliding down his back. Whether he was picking up masochism or basked in the pleasure of the sadism he inflicted, Mark felt it. He felt how he gave out before you. Spurts of come followed with desperate deep moans that you swallowed in dire need of your own release.

But he was cruel. Very fucking cruel that the second that he stopped spasming and decorating your walls, his actions halt. For a few seconds he holds his position, head on your chest trying to relax his body full of adrenaline. If he was to look at you, he knew your face would beg him for your own release.

After a minute or two he pulls away slowly, taking his shirt off and reaching for the wipes inside his night stand. He warms them with his breath, moving them around to disperse the heat, only to lay them flat between your legs to clean off anything that fell out (although not much), propping your legs up and laying some pillows behind your back so you could rest for now.

Tongue poking his cheek before sighing and turning his back to you. “That’s cruel.” He didn’t say anything furthermore, his voice harsh and cold. Locking the bathroom door behind him and leaving you sprawled on the bed, arousal immediately terminated and the only feeling was of regret for saying what you did and letting things go this far. You couldn’t cry either, the other two would probably cut you off this time for good. So you’ll deny your body from letting out its emotions again. Afterall, Mark has made you be so resilient in that aspect.

Jungwoo’s and Jaehyun’s tasks were complete by the time Mark had gotten out of the shower, lunch too. The entire time underwater he spent it beating himself for the decisions he’s made to let things go this way. A month ago he was content thinking his wife loved him despite his flaws but Jaehyun’s big mouth made him unravel slowly that he was doing more harm than building an eternal home. Mark was resentful, he’s not going to deny that. He hated how quickly theatrics and how easy things he saw as fine can fall.

It stung more that you were laughing uncontrollably with the other two, seemingly neither had anything to mention of the marks on your neck or the completely different outfit you have in comparison to the shorts and blouse from earlier. Hell, Jaehyun is sitting in his chair rubbing salt on the wound and you are not saying anything upon noticing Mark; it sucked the life out of him. A slug in a bath of salt.

“Sit, I’ll fix your plate.” You smile at him as if nothing had happened in the four walls of the bedroom, your conformity noticeable. By this point he had taken the cold seat he was unfamiliar with. Sitting across from you was not something he was accustomed to, not in his own home at least, but here he was, watching two men who actually do drop everything for you. Two men that were his friends first, cracking jokes just to make you smile and laugh at which you did, enough to hunch over, something you haven't done with him in a while.

Mark had blocked out the conversation completely, watching your moves and theirs. Your facial expressions and where your hands landed from time to time. That deafness fell when you placed the plate before him. The presentation made it obvious that others had gotten to your food before him. The mixture of ingredients painting the canvas of his plate faster than prior times when he was the first to cut through the masterpiece of your dishes. This time it was tampered and by the looks of Jaehyun’s still neatly moved around plate, he was the one to break through first.

Throughout lunch Mark tried his best to not speak, only replying when spoken to or agreeing in some sense. Things got worse when your cell phone kept buzzing and buzzing uncontrollably on the kitchen counter that made the other two give each other a glance, this time, not gone unnoticed by him and piquing his interest further.

The incessant buzzing continues, enough that Jungwoo sighs before lolling his head to give you a weird look. “Is it that dick?”

‘Oh?’ Mark thinks to himself, an eyebrow raising as he begins to chew slower. Your glare towards Jungwoo to hush him is futile when Jaehyun joins. “Haven’t you told him to stop bothering you after work?” He sounded angry, the type of rage Mark should have, not Jaehyun. In his mind: Jealousy and that made his feelings worse.

How selfish.

“What dick? What are you guys on about?” Mark was so annoyed and frustrated at this point that venom laced every single one of his words, spraying it as he flayed his hands. Your silence made it worse, more painful was that you did so while Jaehyun and Jungwoo took it upon themselves to explain. The two, immensely tired of you not saying anything, of not speaking up.

Jungwoo goes first, he knows, they work together for Christ’s sake. “What’s his name? Ah, whatever… Y/n’s floor colleague has been bothering her for a while, you should know.” He frustratedly shakes his head, fork digging into his plate without noticing the look Mark throws at you. “Yeah…” He mutters, eyes never leaving you, all knowing he’s lying and upset.

“You should really report him, Y/n-ie.” Jaehyun breaks through, forcing Mark’s neck to snap and look at him. He was just making things worse because all Mark could feel was his lunch rapidly collecting in his throat. Cutlery dropping from his hands.

‘Y/n-ie’?! What an insolent fuck! That’s what Mark thought of Jaehyun. How dare he use a diminutive for you? Who the fuck did he think he was? Not even he, Mark, your husband called you that. What a fucking asshole.

How selfish.

A coward too, he wouldn’t know how to react either way. Instead he revels in your words as a distraction. “My boss seems to like him a lot. The only one getting in trouble would be me.” You sigh, fork moving food around. Mark looked between you and your actions, you noticed him, that you took a few bites to make him stop.

“Why don’t you apply to where we work?” He suggests, chewing what was on his fork, now using it to point between him and Jaehyun. Foolish to not grasp yet how that would mean seeing Jaehyun more and having it rub in his face that even under the same roof you’ll run to him for favors.

You liked the idea, it was easy to notice how much you perked up at the fact that he suggested being together 24/7 no matter the different departments.

Jungwoo had other plans, “Then you’d leave me alone.” He pouts childishly. On other occasions he’d laugh too and call him cute but he doesn’t think he can see Jungwoo as fondly as before. “Move to my floor instead.” He continues to test the waters but is met with a kind giggle and shrug from you.

The afternoon transpired with finishing lunch. Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning the dishes while Jungwoo the pots. Mark on the other hand sat on the couch, eyes often stealing glances on how you interacted with the other two. If you tried to clean, they’d reject the idea and tell you to just go sit and do what Mark is doing: nothing; an obvious jab.

Ending their visit with discussing the kick-back Johnny was hosting at his place in a few weeks. Something about the Champions or US Open? You’re not sure. You were growing more worried about Mark, that you ended up telling whoever to just text you the deets. They smiled with a nod… and a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye while waving to Mark who perked at the scene. He felt his eyes warm and heavy. Not sure if they were tears beginning to form from jealousy or insecurity.

You throw him an acknowledging smile while making your way to the bedroom. He stood up, leaving the TV on to follow behind. Before you could open the closet door to fetch something to sleep in, you feel his arms wrap around you. There was desperation to his grab, his hold was rough. Your back hit his chest, feeling his exasperated breath on your neck. Soft kisses at first but nipping soon after to leave his name all over you again, claiming you since it seemed like the others weren’t being repelled.

“Mark?…” You call out, his hands knead your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?… Why did you keep–” ‘everything’ he wanted to say, “that from me?”

“Come on–” you intend to plead but he’s not letting it go. “Why?!” He asks exasperatedly against your face while he leaves wet kisses on the skin, pleadingly. “I didn’t want to burden you.” You confess, a whine at the harsh grasp.

“You’re my wife! I need to know these types of things, Y/n. You can’t just keep things from me, how can we be good to– how can it be good for us?” He exclaims; angry and wailing all at once.

‘How can we be good together like this?’ He wanted to say, biting his tongue to not tell truths while sober. Mark didn’t know what it was, but it hurt. He had been thinking about this for weeks. How to ask you overall about the things you’ve hidden from him but now that he has the chance to bring it up, he can’t help but feel resentful and pained.

Why did you trust Jaehyun and Jungwoo more than him? He’s your husband.

He expected that once married, loyalty would be granted to him no matter what, one way or another. Just like she had granted it to Donghyuck despite how flawed their marital logic was.

Sure, he made things worse but would the universe be cruel enough for him to be in Hyuck’s shoes years later? He deserved it, he knew, something at least, but that ill side of him– what he had learned from her plagues him and demands you to love him unconditionally. To do things on your own without the help of others even when he’s the one to deny you any aid, when he’s at fault.

Mark is miserable and he expects you to be so too… even more than you already are.

Misery loves company.

His hands stopped their harsh kneading, turning you around to look at him. His tired and weary eyes looked straight into yours. But while he felt resentful and confused, you felt odd. Why was he acting like he cared all of the sudden? It was strange and while you appreciated it to an extent, you also hated it.

You weren’t used to it at least, and you weren’t sure if this act would last. You don’t want to admit it but that voice hidden in the vault of your heart loathes him more than anything.

“Okay…” You nod. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you things more often, yeah?”

“Please…”

You nod and he nods, pleadingly; he’s not content and neither are you.

After that discussion, the day transpired as if nothing had happened. He had returned to the living room leaving you to do whatever while he kept his distance. Only answering with hums and nods whenever you come out of the room.

Did you mind? No, it was so normalized it didn’t make you angry anymore. You actually felt like things were back to normal and this was sufficient enough. Mark on the other hand tried everything to ignore how he felt or regulate those emotions since he wasn’t too sure who he was mad with.

By the time he had figured he was over it, you had fallen asleep alone like all those times he did weeks prior. A warmth filled his chest at the thought. An inkling telling him to wake up before you do the following day just to leave that dissatisfaction you had left in him, not accounting with how disappointed you were with him already that it wouldn’t affect you in the slightest.

He wouldn’t do it, though. Not because he cared enough, but because he wasn’t planning on waking up early to be petty. What he will do is go back to the living room and let his fingers roam like Thing until those crumpled and messy pages sat on his lap and he laid on the couch, stereo system on.

Instantly he’s met with those familiar sharp corners and loops. Numbers, increasing and decreasing significantly. The larger ones bold from rage, the decreasing one's neatly written with smiley faces next to them. He still couldn’t figure out what they meant but he surely enjoyed the recipes you kept adding to the journal and the doodles of how they turned out. Although, he felt that they lacked so much substance.

All of these felt either welcoming or asked that he be eradicated from this earth for the way he’s breaching your privacy, acting like an over controlling strict father despite being your husband. Almost like his dad, but don’t tell him that or he’ll throw a fit. For having lived so many lives, he's surely turning into the worst version of himself.

Through more flipping to see if he missed anything, he came across some interesting notes. All which made his stomach churn and that pride he would once feel, turned to– well, some type of disgust and concern…

‘I’ll do anything for him but every day I’m going insane with tense trials. It’s fine. If I have to go insane to stay with him I will.’

Mark sighs heavily, hands covering his face to soon slide off hoping his flesh would fall with them, groaning to himself.

Fuck, he loved you. In a fucked up way he did but how much could he endure knowing things aren’t fine and dandy? Sure, his first instinct is to try and fix things but there’s also that part that won’t let him strive for any change and it’s winning.

Change hasn’t been the kindest to him in the past. Hell, it’s the reason he’s morphed into what he is now but you accept him this way. That’s what the incessant and pestering part of him told him to let things be and just act like he doesn’t know what you truly are.

He should be glad, no? To know that you love him so much that it’s killing you. Yet, he isn’t. He’s not sure why, maybe because of his deep buried true morality but he has also grown to be selfish and he wants to relish in the glory of your love until you hit a breaking point.

For once he doesn’t want to be a Bernal character and it seems this is where he is slowly breaking that pattern— albeit, he is not enjoying it either.

Perhaps it was the hour, his growing resentment, anger, and hurt, or he was overstimulated that caused the music in the background to tremble and clog his ears the longer he kept reading. Lists upon lists of things you had to do at work followed by entries on how much longer your hours would run every instance you paid no mind to that dick that the guys described.

Countless entries of your boss calling your attention after that asshole complains. Instances in which, despite how many pictures of Mark you put up in your cubicle, he makes an effort to make them disappear any time you’re not near. On company dinners, Jungwoo and you make it your life’s mission to slither away from the crowd– to be seen but not noticed, enough to not be reprimanded when you’re miles away from danger.

‘Jungwoo mentions in passing every opening in his floor as an incentive to ask for a transfer. Going as far as getting letters of assistance to request my temporary time in the department. Hours to days, they have been great but not everything lasts. With just one foot back inside in my department, the entire mood shifts and it’s back to reality.’

Mark doesn’t understand why his chest aches every time he reads your journal. Perhaps there’s a moderate amount of empathy but he also feels hurt knowing you’re hiding so much from him.

Years worth of things and even if you don’t say it, you make it known you hate the person he is. Mark is sure that if you weren't attached to him like you are, you’d loathe him the way you loathe everyone who has wronged you. He wonders how long it will be until your love runs out and he will finally become one of them.

He shouldn’t expect it but if it happened with Donghyuck who promised to never leave him, of course it can happen with you who he has wronged just as bad as his brother, even if you do everything in your power to prove him wrong. Mark tends to bite the hand that feeds him, if he gnaws for far too long, surely there will be consequences.

03:46, a warm night in 2008… Aggravated and nauseous from making your suffering about himself, Mark dictates that it was enough meddling for the day. Tiresome and bleary-eyed, head thumping achingly with the music debilitating him; Mark stands up frustratedly to turn off Sinead O’Connor angrily screaming ‘you’re a liar’ over and over making him forget about the journal on his lap.

The vegan leather taunts him with its loud thump against the floor, screeching as he picks it up but in the process he drops some notes. “Fuck me!” He curses frantically, knowing you’ll definitely know he’s been snooping when none of these end up where you originally placed them. He starts to panic, he feels his heart race dangerously, his aching head is now spinning, flipping through pages to see where he can put these in, yet in the process he stops.

“Don’t beat yourself up because of him. I’ll always be on your corner and so will Jungwoo. I love you, y/n. – Jaehyunie ♡”

I love you, y/n… Not ‘we love you’ but ‘I. I love you’.

Mark’s blood runs cold, his eyes bulge. In that moment he feels his chest and heart compress, squeezing the life out of him.

This is what Mark’s fears came to. He worried so much about your unconditional love becoming conditional, that the universe allowed him to see the incriminating clue that told him that sooner than later that was to happen. Right?

‘Dinner on me today! NO buts! Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?! XOXO — Snoops XD.’

The pitch black ink taunts him, questioning how recent or how old these must be. The handwriting felt juvenile with every smooth corner and small bottoms. The top of every letter felt bubbly and messy when connecting. Jaehyun’s could still be neat when messy and for some reason that bothered Mark more.

Unbeknownst to Mark, the papers were crumpling between his shaky fingers. As shaky as his breath restraining whatever he was feeling. ‘Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?’ Mark repeats to himself that same question for a hundred more times, each making him more angry. ‘Who else but her husband? Me!’ He wants to yell at the top of his lungs. Drill it in the minds of everyone in your shared circle. He was capable of taking care of you!

But being capable doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t nor put effort into doing so.

No, Mark didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to jump into conclusions of infidelity or anything down that rabbit hole. He knew you wouldn’t do it. He wants to think that, he wants to believe it. You’re literally ruining yourself for him, so why would you do all that to throw it all away? Regardless, he can’t swallow the lump in his throat.

He also once thought him and Hyuck would be in each other’s lives until they died. It later turned into him believing Hyuck would fade into the shadows of this earth and not ever see him because she would be his, choosing him, but that didn’t happen. In fact it was the opposite. He also didn’t become the renowned artist he was in his college years with a list full of connections that left him when he fell from grace.

He didn’t end up thriving in the studio where he was meant to start over and is now in a dead-end design engineering job because of his father and his connections, not Mark’s. Did he know anything about it going in? He knew the word design but oh god how far can connections go if he landed something like that.

Even you, he met you because of his father, and the bells of the life he avoided for years rang incessantly letting him know no one can run from their faith. No matter how hard they try.

It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t in Hyuck’s shoes, it only mattered that he now knew how much pain Hyuck was going through seeing his wife rejoice in the care and love of men he considered friends. That and the fact that he was making your unraveling all about himself, at least they can share that too.

He couldn’t understand how you acted so peaceful and put together when during lunch he’d visit the cafes you frequented with Jungwoo and found you the same as the first time. Exasperated, vexed, and angry with a cigarette between your fingers when you two were to leave.

A chuckle on his lips remembering all the times you pestered him to quit smoking because you wanted him for many years to come. Now he’s not sure if you want to be with him as much, no matter how many times you write about it.

“You’re still a liar, you’re still a liar, you’re still a liar!”

Monday rolled around in which Mark swore to not allow Jungwoo another lunch date with you. Furthering his selfishness and restricting your moments of relief so he could take that time up. You wouldn't mind, right? It’s him after all…

It goes to say that when he stepped through the ample threshold of your floor with a cute little bag in his hand and some drinks in the other, that confusion crossed your mind before that thought was pushed back by adoration.

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a warm smile. You felt like a child whose parents never showed up for any activities but this one. That childish glee and relief of knowing that you are loved. “Can’t pay my wife a visit?” Mark retaliates with a cheeky smile, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss.

You want to say it felt like when you first began dating. So sweet, tender, and soft. How he was before you married and his facade fell, showing how dependent he was. His small acts of love come through.

You want to believe it so bad that you’re willing to push back the tiny voice in your head trying to force you to question what he wanted out of you if he was willing to visit you this far.

“Well yeah,” You giggle in an effort to leave your desk. “Come, let’s go to the rooftop.” Your hand takes a hold of his wrist, pulling him along until that incessant blob of human flesh presents itself right in front of you both, blocking the way.

“Well look at that. Your husband, right? Didn’t think you’d like the soft ones…” A mocking grin slapped on his face, arms crossed against his chest. He wasn’t much taller than Mark but he sure was confident to take a step closer to you both. Mark opts to carry all bags in one hand, twisting his wrist to hold your hand rather than you him.

You sigh, looking for ways to respond but Mark doesn’t give you time, walking around him with you in front, ignoring any calls from him to go back for a conversation. Such an insufferable man, Mark was aware but to you, this moment, you were still treating it like one of your earlier dates. His attentiveness and courage of protecting you. You missed that Mark and any resentment from marrying him faded for now.

“That’s him?” Mark breaks the silence, the walk to the rooftop consisting of him complaining from these few seconds they met. If he thought this much from only that timeframe, you wonder how long he would have lasted in your shoes.

You responded to his complaints with nods and hums, taking a seat across from him on the bistro table. He laid back on the chair relaxed, if it wasn’t for his babbling one would think he wasn’t really affected.

“And, I mean, he’s such a dick.” He groans, sitting up straight, his roll of eyes halting upon noticing you pick at one half of the sandwich.

Mayo wiped off, pickles on the bundle of used napkins, the turkey they touched on top of them, chunks of old avocado added to the tower. “What are you doing? Why are you picking at your food all of the sudden?” He leans against the table, elbows on the glass to be closer to you. In that instance, you stop your actions, looking at him through lashes before raising your head.

“Mark, I don't like these. I thought you knew by now…”

Fuck.

“No, yeah, I know. I’m sorry…” His hand leaves his chin, stretching it to hold yours. “Sorry, I forgot to check the order at the cafe, I didn’t want traffic to get me.” You smile at him, he smiles at you. You know he’s lying but it’s the thought that counts. “Plus, I think I came at the perfect time. Imagine I had come later and he had bothered you more?” His fingers squeeze yours, a little too hard if you say so.

He’s received with a shrug. “He’s a dick, like you said.” You giggle softly, pulling your hand away to wipe them with another napkin. “He doesn’t react like that with Jaehyun, though. Does everything to avoid him.” Your head tilts, reassembling the sandwich to presentability.

“Jaehyun?” You gave him that same look as when he questioned you seconds earlier, except it was softer and almost incriminating. You didn’t mean it in any form, more casually but after his findings, Mark can’t say he’s too happy with this information.

“Oh, well, when you can’t bring what I ask you to, I… sometimes ask Jae. So, they've met before…” Your gaze lowers, taking the other sandwich half onto your hands. “I think he’s scared of Jae, to be honest.” You giggle in attempts to break whatever tension you felt from your husband.

‘Jae, Jae, Jae. Christ, what a broken record.’ Mark thought, an urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his coworker. For fucks sake, he was the last thing he wanted to think about or even see. The only reason he saw him today was because of work but that should be it. He shouldn’t be hearing or thinking about his name here with you. Let alone hear it coming from you, his wife.

Stretching your hand towards him, you smile. “Here, eat the other half. These are huge on their own.” He took it, lunch soured by your incessant need to bring up Jaehyun and that dickhead from earlier.

Was this how he was paid? Making an effort to be a good husband just to have things be thrown in his face?

Lunch ended not too long after, he was on his own lunch break after all. It goes to say that his drop off and goodbye bid seemed lackluster in comparison to his greeting.

“Um, and don’t forget to file a floor change.” He gave you a tired smile and a quick kiss. It was the last thing he said to you while fixing any pictures of you two on your desk —three missing now— before heading towards the elevator.

Like an act of a malice-meaning demon, when reaching the twelfth floor, the doors yanked themselves open like a grand introduction to a world renowned boxer or an all-show wrestler, showcasing that smug pug-faced asshole. A silent chuckle upon placing himself next to Mark who slumped against the railing and mirror walls.

Mark greeted him with a huff, head lolling similar to his eyes. The feeling got worse when he heard him blubbering, “At first I thought that the other guy was her boyfriend. You know, tall, dimples; suits her better.” He nods to himself, egging Mark’s ringing ears.

Here they went again. Bringing Jaehyun into every conversation. It’s made worse knowing that this idiot felt even Jaehyun could be your partner. That no matter how many images of Mark you display, to the world only Jae was good enough for you. Because he’s the only one who shows up.

“He seems like an actual man or that guy from the floor below. The orange haired one, a little weird but he surely goes out of his way to not let me have some fun for the day.” He laughs, snorting at his abhorrence. He turns to Mark, swallowing that disgusting lump of mucus in his throat, hand itching to come in contact with Mark’s smooth cheek. A pat of mockery. “She’s doing charity work with you.”

Ironic, Mark would say. Ironic that he thinks you’re doing charity work with him when this idiot was never an afterthought. The older man insists on glaring at Mark, not letting their gazes drop, seeking any response from Mark even when the elevator rings, letting them know they’ve hit the garage lobby. He felt victorious feeling as if he had struck a nerve when Mark hopped off without a peep. Only for his triumph to be shut down shortly after.

“No wonder she has never mentioned you before. You’re repulsive to even think about and a sorry excuse for a man.”

A disgusted scowl replaced Mark’s poker face, glaring at the once mocking jackass whose face had sagged, shock turning into anger that he didn’t know how to express before the doors closed, making his target disappear from view.

Mark might have felt great in the moment but things could only go worse for you. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions. He never did. He didn’t think about how it would affect you at work and the repercussions you faced for the weeks to come. Mark hadn’t processed he was at fault until your journal became frantic, pages with holes from how hard you wrote on them. Crumpled from the anger you couldn’t express besides abusing those pages.

He didn’t notice because he was indulging amongst the side notes and words highlighted with your tears about how scared you were of losing him. Your quick remarks on how you felt him pulling away or acting odd. Imploring to whichever higher being to not take him from you if that was the case. While you’re wallowing in the pits of your sadness hoping he won’t leave you, Mark enjoys the feeling of warmth seeing your desperation.

It meant you loved him, right? With how things were going on with Jaehyun, Mark took any crumb of your love that only felt real when you wrote about it. It’s hard to understand why he didn’t feel it was real when it came from your lips but it did when you confessed to the things you’ve put yourself through for him. For him, not Jaehyun, him, Mark. That felt like love.

Right, only on paper it felt like love. Not like now that you found yourself in Johnny’s kitchen with Jaehyun next to you like a guard dog, chewing your ear off with whatever he was saying despite your look of anguish. A worrying look to Mark and the likes of his— well, your friend it seems.

He had been enjoying the final match with Johnny, Yanyang, and the other coworkers they shared. You had been sitting by his side for most of it but it wasn’t until a few minutes ago that Jaehyun pulled you aside, asking for your help to make some drinks for the rest of the guests but now he was holding you hostage, begging you to drink some water.

Mark figured the drinks you had were getting to you and Jaehyun could tell. He won’t say he’s fond of that fact. That Jaehyun knows you well to the point he can tell when you need to be cut off.

Mark tried not making it obvious but when only his head isn’t turned to the TV and the host is making sure his guests are having a good time, well it’s hard to miss. Johnny notices it too, how Jaehyun was fixing you a slider, the words: “You haven’t eaten well, stop trying to fool me.” sternly spewing from his mouth.

No mayo, no pickles, no condiments at all. Just a plain cheeseburger slider. He knew how you liked it by heart and that’s something that makes Mark’s heart pound in hate.

The feeling becomes worse when your whispering turns frantic and almost audible for the rest to hear. Your words whining like you wanted to cry about how hellish work has become after Mark’s visit. Jaehyun shakes his head, hands pressing against the counter to lean against with an angry look on his face. That infamous look of hollow cheeks and sunken dead eyes. He wanted to say something but knew it was best to be a shoulder to lean on.

“And don’t tell me to talk to him about it because what’s the use?! You know how he is. I love him, I do but—” Your hands come in contact with your forehead, shaking it a bit, “Why can’t he just be a tad bit like you?…” You hiccuped, hands slowly sliding down to your mouth as you shut your eyes. It wasn’t a sign of regret but exhaustion, vile stuck in your throat.

Jaehyun’s face softened, standing up straight to turn to you. To some form of comfort, his hand extends to rub your back, pulling you in for a side hug while you try to hold in whatever you feel. Jaehyun understands your words come from a place of hurt but confessions like that can be taken wrongly.

“Why can’t he be just a tad bit like you?...” Just like Mark had, who now felt his heart shatter. Disillusioned and hurt, stupid for thinking that you would want him no matter what. Worse off, it was Jaehyun who you confessed that to. Someone that everyone thought was a better fit for you.

I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.

Johnny took it upon himself to raise the volume of the TV, sparing Mark from any more anguish and saving your business to be heard by the other guests who by the graces of God were more interested in who would win the Stanley Cup this season.

His attempts didn’t work. Mark felt his world crashing down on him in this instance. He wanted to go out and scream, cry even, at the reviving memories flashing through his head. He’s seen this before— no, he’s experienced this.

Her cries to him about Hyuck to soon commence their affair in that same instance. If that was to happen in these walls, Mark thinks it’s his time to take a leap out of Johnny’s apartment balcony.

So when you leave me, I should die. I deserve it, don’t I? I can feel it getting near.

The vile stuck in your throat had been persistent on coming out, enough to push Jaehyun out of the way to run towards Johnny’s bathroom. It’s amazing how enthralled with the game his guests were to not notice anything happening behind them. To not feel Mark’s radiating poison as he watches his wife and ‘friend’ rush towards the bathroom, door slamming behind him. If it wasn’t for Jeno’s and Yangyang’s cheering scream, they would hear you hurl the slider into the toilet bowl, crying along with self-disgust.

Mark couldn’t hold it in anymore; abruptly he stands, ignoring Johnny’s sympathetic look. Not only for him but for you too, aware of Mark’s own flaws. He had thoughts of barging in and blowing Jaehyun’s ear off with his barking. Questioning you about what was going on, but he slowed down when he heard you hiccup and cry before and after vomiting. Jaehyun’s soothing hushes to you making his head spin but innocent enough.

Innocent until he opened his mouth. “Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay, pretty girl.” Jaehyun coos into Mark’s eardrum through a megaphone to imprint the notes of his voice onto his brain.

Pretty girl. That’s his pet name for you, Mark’s pet name. Hurt floods him when you make no effort to correct him and present this fact.

Since when have you become someone else’s pretty girl?

He couldn’t take it any longer, angrily slamming the door open to watch Jaehyun soothing you with backrubs, holding your hair as you went.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Mark spits out venom, mimicking that of a cobra. His eyes widened by hot fury as he approached you two. You wanted to speak, but the invasion from your gut stopped you, tears being the only thing you were able to respond with.

Jaehyun on the other hand gives him a look as if to tell him to calm down, that everything was fine, more worried about your well being than Mark’s insecurities. “Just helping her out, calm down.”

It aggravated him how collected Jaehyun’s words were, how little mind he paid him or how you made no effort to have Jaehyun stop giving you supportive squeezes (almost like you weren’t fighting for your life).

Mark huffs, hands taking purchase on his waist watching you two, the volume to the television and the guests drawn out by your heaving. He whispers, walking towards Jaehyun with that same menacing look– eye roll worthy, Jaehyun would say.

“I just fucking heard you, she’s my wife. What the fuck are you trying to do?” His finger rose to poke at Jaehyun’s shoulder. The taller one of the two feeling offended by Mark’s accusations and thoughts that he’d snake him like that. Jaehyun was not Mark.

“Sorry, that’s on me,” Jaehyun slaps Mark’s hand away, creating some distance. “I'm just helping her—” “Back the fuck off, she’s my wife…”

Tired enough by this facade, Jaehyun scowls at Mark, pushing past him towards the door. “Then don’t be a shitty husband and she won’t have to seek other people to do what you can’t! I know how to respect marriages well enough, if anything I’m just helping her. Something you should do for once in your fucking life.”

Jaehyun bites back, watching Mark’s face falter as he slams the door behind him while you continue your sobbing. Overwhelmed by your bodily reaction but mostly for what just ensued in this room. With no form to defend yourself and Jaehyun. Hurt that Mark thought you two would betray him like he’s done to those before you.

You believe me like a God, I’ll betray you like a man.

In that instance Mark wanted to run to Jaehyun and gouge his eyes out, rip his stupid freshly bleached hair out, and beat him until he was nothing else than liquid matter. The words rang horribly inside his head to the point he was seeing red, his vision blurred and stars were floating in his eyes.

History was repeating itself and he was finally paying his wrong doings. He thought Jungwoo and Jaehyun were his friends but Hyuck thought the same of him and now he’s found himself in this predicament.

You're sweet, you're lovely. You go out of your way to make Mark happy so it was him all along. He's the problem and karma is finally making him pay the price.

Jaehyun understood it was his fault for being careless and using pet names but can one blame him when he was worried? Someone has to if not the one who bowed to do so. Even when he’s gone from eye sight, Jaehyun’s efforts are felt through Johnny who knocks on the door. Mark opens it slightly, Johnny standing before him with a glass of water and baking soda. Telling him about how Jaehyun sent him before leaving; for you to swish your mouth with this and drink some sparkling water to soothe your stomach ache.

Mark took it without a word, nodding at Johnny before shutting the door in his face as if this wasn’t his home. You were up on your feet by the time Mark turned around, lid closed as you flushed the toilet, reaching the sink to rinse your mouth before taking the glass from his hand. No words from either of you.

He looked at you through the mirror, arms crossed and factions softening upon noticing how tired and sick you looked. Gauntly, lips and eyes puffed out, and cheeks streaked. It was best to go home after that incident, only giving Johnny an apologetic goodbye while the rest of the guests paid no mind. On your end you were out of the apartment already, embarrassment laced on your face.

And even through the car ride, all you could think about was Mark’s words and actions. Memories of Mark smugly telling his ex-best friend words Jaehyun spat at him flooded his vision, making it dangerous for him to be driving. To his side you grunted in discomfort, feeling as if vile was to rise from you again but he paid you no mind, made no effort to comfort you, more focused on his own feelings.

The look Hyuck had on his face eight years ago was the one Mark mirrors this night. One way or another one will pay for all their sins and you were his cross.

He didn’t talk to you for the remainder of the night. Didn’t care enough to question why you fell ill or how frightened you were about the possibility that this may be it, that this was his excuse to leave you behind.

The thoughts, his actions and words clouding your mind through your shower, skin care routine, and brushing your teeth. Spending minutes upon minutes doing the latter, disgusted by yourself. Brushing away all the vile you wanted to throw at him but instead ended down Johnny’s plumbing. For only Jaehyun to hear and understand.

Mark laid down on his side by the time you came out of the bathroom. You knew he was angry, his stiff body making no effort to move even when feeling the bed sink under your knees. He tried not to move when he felt your arms wrap around him seeking comfort in his warmth, but Mark wasn’t willing to give it to you. Without a care if he hurt you, which is what he did.

“Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Your words made his eyes open. Startled, his body hardens under your touch, almost like your upcoming tears were freezing him on the spot. Damp on his sleeping shirt but hot on his back. He turns abruptly, pushing back a bit in the process. “What are you even ta—”

“Why don’t you love me anymore?!” You cut him off, voice raising to something he’s never heard before. “You’ve been so distant. More than usual and I can’t take it anymore!” Your palms cover your eyes, pushing back tears, forbidding you to look at that mocking grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief.

You’re the one who grows distant when I beckon you near.

His voice on the other hand makes sure you know how he feels. “You think so? I think this is the closest I’ve been to you.” He chuckles, taking into account that look of confusion on your face as you put down your hands, resting them on your lap. “Why don’t you tell me anything, Y/n? You tell Jungwoo everything. You ask Jaehyun to do everything for you. I’m your husband, why don't you don’t you trust me enough?”

Your confusion falls, disgust and anger replace it. “When I ask anything out of you, you never want to nor know how to do it.” Your voice was hurt, head shaking a tad with every syllable, hate laced into each one. He hated how much your reaction resembled Jaehyun’s.

He doesn’t want to admit you’re right, “You ask the most absurd of favors.” He scoffs, sitting up to be face to face with you. “Are you fucking serious? You’re a grown man who can’t cook or clean for himself. Up until I saw you at the bakery I thought you didn’t know where it was but then I saw you with another girl there.” You huff, arms flailing like when you’re with Jungwoo.

There would be some satisfaction in him to know your true self is here talking with him but bringing old news made him groan. “I thought you said it was fine and we’d drop it there.” He takes into account the glare you’re throwing him, smoke coming out of your ears the longer neither of you speak.

If he had known a few drinks would do this to you, he would have not let you drink. The thing is, Mark pays no mind to you to not notice you’ve drank mocktails all night. He was more worried about Jaehyun than you.

“It’s not fine when you’re with some other girl to a place you keep avoiding when I ask you to go. Is it because of her? Is she the one taking my place now?” Your voice came out choppy, acheful, with the question, inhaling and exhaling to calm yourself down.

He on the other hand doesn’t take it kindly, annoyed that you’d think about him that way but that's what he’s been thinking about you, so what difference does it make? It would not be his first rodeo, so are you that insane to think of him like that?

I’ll betray you like a man.

Mark stands from the bed, crouching to eye-level with you as if you were a child he’s lecturing. “It’s not because of her, I don’t give a fuck about her! I barely know her, she is just an intern, and hasn't been there for a month now! We were sent by my boss!” His fingers poke his temple, in a form to tell you to get it through your head.

“But I’m right? You don’t love me anymore.”

Mark stands up straight in disbelief with your words despite none defending his case coming from his own mouth. He could see how your heart was crushing with every passing second.

The truth is hiding in your eyes and it’s hanging on your tongue. Just boiling in my blood.

“All this time I thought you were calm… level headed— but you're the opposite... you don’t talk to me, you tell Jaehyun and Jungwoo everything. Why can’t you tell me everything? Why can't you need and trust me?” His voice softens, calming down.

“Because you don’t ever want to listen to me! I can’t need you when you do everything in your power for me not to!” Truth is, he did know how to clean and cook for himself, he's done it before but he's grown selfish and dependent.

Your outburst left him speechless, all the sighs he had to give stuck and dispersed through every crevice of his interior, poisoning his flow. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t want to believe it.

“I give and give and give but I never receive! I love you so much, it's become so painful that I rather let it slide than be far from you.” You crawl closer to the edge of the bed, hoping to minimize the distance between you two. The feeling of proximity only seems to feel farther, leaving room for a blizzard to rest between you two.

Mark knows he’s not man enough, your coworker said it. He knows he doesn’t help or take care of you, Jaehyun and Jungwoo told him so. None of these men had to tell him for him to know he doesn’t deserve you. It just so happens to be that Mark is selfish and wasn’t able to process it until now. He swore he believed you through writing but now, with you telling him directly— reality is forcing itself upon him.

“I think we should take a break.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“What?” You ask confused and startled, looking up at him with fury in your eyes. “What? Don’t be fucking stupid. We’re married and we’ll stay this way! It's not as easy as you let out, asshole.” You sniffle, getting off the bed now, approaching him despite the gap he’s formed between you two. In all senses.

“You’re just not who I fell in love with anymore.”

You wanted to rip his hair out, claw his skin and inject your pain and love into him so he could understand what you felt. You knew he was selfish but how fucking stupid could he be?

“You’re so— you’re no fucking better than anyone else. You fell in love with the idea you made of me. Whatever the fuck that is! Any chance you get to see the real me you shut me down, Mark! Why can’t you just love me?! Not the stupid girl you thought I was.”

Your cries stopped, hands taking purchase on his arms, squeezing tighter with the adrenaline of wrath coursing through your veins. You were tired, tired of his foolishness and in times like these, you weren’t going to let him ruin what you’ve built.

“You fell in love with an idealized version of me too, if you’re still this in love.” Mark gulps, making no effort to move but his eyes felt heavy and tired. Hurt even, not sure if for himself or for you, empathy winning for once. Pity sounds better.

You think that I can’t see what kind of man that you are. If you’re man at all.

“I see you for who you fucking are. You’re selfish, you don’t want to do things for others unless you’re getting something out of it. You weaponize your incompetence for me to do things for you. You’re insecure especially with other men around me because you think of yourself exactly the opposite as them unless they’re more pathetic compared to you.” Your finger poked his chest, reminiscing on how he began berating Jaehyun.

“You’re especially jealous of your friends because they offer more for me than you do and that’s your fault. You project your insecurities and mistakes onto them and me because you’re a bad friend, husband, and ultimately a bad person. Yet I’m still with you because I love you— even with everything you put me through and how you can’t help but compare me to— to her! Get over it and through your head, that was loneliness and you were the easiest victim. No one leaves their husband for someone they don't love.”

Like the pathetic man he was, he broke down. No amount of swallowing and gulping down the knot in his throat would go away. Tears streamed down his cheeks upon hearing you project onto the world what you had whispered to the toilet bowl earlier. Mark wasn’t aware that you knew about Hyuck and her but he wouldn’t doubt if you had come across letters from them both in the past just like he came across your journals.

Having you voice what he had been thinking about since that experience caused his world to finally see true color, despite you being purposely vicious. He knew what that fling meant for her, for Hyuck, and for him. It just so happens that it meant more for him and here he was taking it out on the only person who has stuck by his side.

You loved him but you also hated him and that was more than clear to him now.

“Better reason for us to take a break. You deserve better… I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.” He sighs, sniffling, throwing his head back to not let any more tears shed.

“I don’t care. If I go without you I’ll—I…” you clinging your nails to his shoulders trying to cut off your words. You knew what you wanted to say wasn’t healthy, not for you and not for him. Mark knows this, weeks of reading your entries allowing him to understand what goes within the walls of your brain.

"Y/n please stop... you’re hurting me." It doesn't change the fact that feeling it was worse than reading it. “Then you’re a coward who would die within an hour in my shoes if I treated you the way you treat me.” You sternly and ferociously spit. He wails before doing the only thing he knew would calm you down.

Leaning in, he kisses you, meekly. Pouring in the love he once had for you and the remaining he has now. But your body rejects it, feeling how phony it is. Pushing him off, running to the restroom to repeat the happenings of earlier. Mark sighs in relief to have you not corner him but in this instance concern floods him.

He follows you to the bathroom, standing by the door frame with crossed arms. Watching you hold your hair like Jaehyun had done earlier. Tears back in your eyes as you continue to lash out your rage against the white porcelain that's witnessed this on other occasions. Although this was one that should symbolize happiness, yet it’s clear you both won’t take it as such.

Mark took a look at his watch, 11:28PM. “Come on, get your shoes. I’ll take you to urgent care, you probably just need some electrolytes.” He approaches you, aiming to help you up but you resist, shaking your head defeatedly.

“I’m not drunk.” You let out through gritted teeth. “No?” He questions smugly, annoyed at your rejection. “They were mocktails. These are normal symptoms.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Look in the drawer, Nancy Drew.” You huff, mocking him for his detective work these past weeks. It was only natural he’d find out eventually if he kept meddling in your journals.

With furrowed eyes, and look remaining, Mark pulls at the white drawer, the cold metal burning his warm hand. He digs and digs through piles of papers. All bills or old letters neither of you cared enough for. Reaching the bottom Mark feels something solid wrapped around a newer piece of paper. In comparison to the yellowing pages, this was white and bright, tied with a rubber band around the solid material.

He throws you a quick glance while taking it into his hands, unraveling the rubber to open it and come to view with three sticks, all with matching two-pink stripes. Any ounce of hope to restart is gone with the weight in his hands. Disappearing when he read the paper.

‘Laboratory report Patient: Y/n Lee. Sampled collected: May 15, 2008. Report date: May 20, 2008 Status: Pregnant Gestational age: 5-8 weeks.’

Mark reads it over and over, finally having the courage to look at you. His eyes wide and dim, reflecting on your cold angry ones. This was it. It was his life. What you would have taken as a beautiful moment, you can now agree this seals your faith. The look you gave him mirroring his misery. At least now you both were on board for once, basking in the fact this was a deadend no matter what.

You both know nothing will get fixed, all there is left is to pretend for the life that’s growing within you. Wreckless as ever, and the cycle of life continues. An innocent life to suffer the trails of a failed relationship for years to follow. That’s all Mark knows, that’s all you know. Generational curses don't end with either of you.

if you liked happy together: it’s too bad you’re married… to me, you’ll enjoy: stupid girl !

join yojeongin’s taglist to be up to date with future work!

taglist: @haknyeonsju @seungjiseyo @theskzvibe @wonyofanclub @lovingvoidgoatee

#neohub #nct-writers #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #nctcreations18 #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark lee x you #mark lee x reader #nct 127 #nct dream #nct #nct fic

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rex44201 · 7 months ago

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Good ORV Analytics

I've come across many good analysis of ORV the past few years, and I can't pick which one to pin on my profile. If you're interested, check them out! Some of them may just be small excerpts of people's opinions, though :)

(This will be continually updated!) The Relationship Between Sooyoung, Dokja, and Joonghyuk; Self-Sacrifice As Their Love Language

Han Sooyoung and Kim Dokja's Relationship To The Apocalypse (short)

ORV's Epilogue (short)

Kim Dokja's Story Fragments (short)

Personal Intrepertation Of ORV (short)

TWSA and Kim Dokja

YooHanKim and Sooyoung's Importance (short)

Kim Dokja's Tragedy

Yoo Joonghyuk's Contradiction

Kim Dokja's Tendencies; The Thin Line Between Self-Sacrifical and Suicidal

Us As A Fragment Of Dokja (short)

Kim Dokja Is Fucked Up (short)

Dokja and Sooyoung's Special Bond (short)

Han Sooyoung's Paradox (short)

Love As An Act Of Consumption

Kim Dokja's Role Reversal

ORV Is A Love Story

ORV's Connecting Themes

ORV Is A Love Story 2.0

Han Sooyoung’s Love To Kim Dokja

Lee Sookyung As A Character

I'm well aware most of these analysis are only towards the trio of the novel.. I wish we can see more of the other characters :(

#kim dokja #orv #han sooyoung #yoo joonghyuk #fhujidospskofdjgfjbnfipenbgfinihhguhh.........yoohankim....

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soombee · 3 months ago

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ଳ⋆｡˚𖦹 caught in the current of you — kim leehan ,𓆝₊ ⊹

dear diary, manifesting an aquarium date with him!!

༉‧₊˚. soombee presents… Caught in the Current of You!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 in which .. you stumble upon your classmates’ band and immediately became attracted to the most oblivious man known to earth, who, of course, has no idea you exist beyond the accidental glances you share in chemistry

or .. you unexpectedly meet your realistically unrealistic crush at an aquarium, a chance encounter that shifts the tides and, maybe, just maybe, the currents of fate will finally bring you two together—only if leehan manages to catch on !

𓇼 pairing . kim donghyun (leehan) x yn (mostly as @dessi_dessi_d on ig!)

➻❥ incl. bonedo, kiof, aespa, trainee a, iland

𓇼 genre . m.sci major!leehan x bio major!yn , obvious x oblivious , artist x fan , “got it?” x “yes ma’am!!” , bonedo as a small band , fluff , crack , half smau + half written🪼

𓇼 warnings . curse words , sensitive jokes (kys, etc.)

𓇼 status . fin! :o

୨🪼୧ taglist (closed) ! @saintriots @yourmyst4r @sftsohee @httpenhoon @alisonyus @astrae4 @lynnimini @enhacolor @mari3s @voikiraz @yveol @sol3chu @saritahwang @kazemiya @kamfaye @meoriapeuda99 @1starqi @dylanobr1ens @lisaswifey

note/s : lowkey started rhis as a one shot but then the banner i made would be a waste so here we r 😮‍💨 ++ plot may be subjected to small changes ! (comment or ask if u wanna be tagged!!)

‘’🐚,, chapter catalogue !

profiles .. boynextdoor // divas (plus sangwon)

prologue ; fine shyt acquired

ch. 1 : fish facts & a lil chemistry

ch. 2 : ionic bonds

ch. 3 : when worlds collide

ch. 4 : sangwon is fakeness

ch. 5 : 𝓲 𝓯𝔀 𝔂𝓱𝓾 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝔂

ch. 6 : chemistry or chemistry ?!

ch. 7 : which could mean NOTHING

ch. 8 : there’s other fish in the sea =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇)

ch. 9 : checkmate !!

ch. 10 : what are we, kim donghyun?!

ch. 11 : #takeleehanback

ch. 12 : diva down!

ch. 13 : i sea us together forever

epilogue ; our forever <3

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iheartmalec · 7 months ago

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Alec learned constellations for Magnus

I’ve been rereading the shadowhunters books and I noticed this! Just another small detail that makes me love Malec even more.

From the Red Scrolls of Magic:

From the City of Heavenly Fire:

which means, canonically between October 2007 (when the Red Scrolls of Magic takes place) and May 2008 (when the Epilogue to the City of Heavenly Fire takes place), Alec learned constellations for Magnus to be romantic.

NO one does it better then Malec <3

#malec #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #magnus bane #magnus x alec #alec x magnus #the red scrolls of magic #city of heavenly fire

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hazelfoureyes · 8 months ago

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The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (deleted scene)

⟢Alastor x Reader - The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (A Valentino Production)

Valentino has acquired a living, breathing human in hell. But at the begging of Angel, Alastor makes a deal in exchange for her soul.

Part 1 smut 💦 Part 2 smut 💦 Side Story Part 3 smut 💦 Part 4 smut💦 Epilogue sexual Deleted Scene smut 💦 📍

I simply couldn’t fit this in anywhere but it’s still a fun lil read so figured might as well share. Wrote back in like February 😅 you may see I cannabalized some lines from this as I never intended to post it

「Warnings/Promises: Alastor x Fem Reader short smutty scene , love making???, Alastor is oddly affectionate and loving, you got him so fucked up, cream pie, riding him like a coin operated airplane in front of the grocery store, so like slow but still super fun?, deleted scene so starts and ends abruptly, redemption is for losers, Alastor moans」

Minors, hey,

hey

💥🗞️DNI

“I’m hopeless.”

“About what?” You glanced at him, a small laugh coming.

When he didn’t reply, you looked back at him, lingering a little longer.

His smile softened, eyes seeming to dilate ever so slowly as he stared. Finally, “Redemption. What a silly little thing.”

You hummed in agreement, going back to your phone, “Right? Who needs heaven when I have everything I need here.”

Had you said it on purpose? So easily cut into him? Was this surgical precision or dumb luck?

He laughed , “You always seem to understand perfectly, my little doe. How do you do it?”

Your smile reached your eyes, “I was made to be your undoing, remember? It comes naturally, mon cher.”

He pulled the phone from your hands and set it on the blanket, mouth coming to the well of your ear, “Say it again”

A chill ran down your spine, fine hair standing on end as goosebumps ran down your arm. “Mon Cher,” the words barely left your mouth before he kissed you, swallowing them into himself. Why? How? A hunger still foreign to him, rising from his lap and igniting his chest.

You felt his hands trembling on your chin, "Are you okay Alastor?

He shook his head no. "I want all of you, my love."

A word you hadn't anticipated. Hadn’t planned for. Hadn’t even dreamed of.

"You have my eternal soul, pretty sure I also threw my body into the deal," He kissed along your jaw then down your neck, making you sigh and relax against his mouth, "What else is there?"

"I don't know. I dont know what I'm saying." He pulled you onto him, setting you on his lap with bent legs holding you steady. Bringing you down for a soft kiss on your lips, "Why does heaven get to decide what redemption looks like?"

He moved aside your sleep shorts, humming happily to find you wearing nothing underneath.

Alastor famously hated you on top. You learned intimately what inspired him to be in the mood, and you on top was decidedly not it. He pulled down his own pajama pants, and began to rub his sticky wet head against your heat.

"Alastor, you -- I thought you didn't like me on top?" You asked, trying to not discourage him.

"I have an odd appetite today, dear. Entertain me?" He began to push in, hands coming to your hips to bring you down onto him. You rested both hands onto his chest for balance, breath already quickening with the burn of him stretching you out first thing in the morning.

When he began to lift your hips and move you up and down his length, you could understand why this would still satiate him. He was still taking the lead, still the one in control.

But something unusual was happening, he was uncharacteristcally vocal. Normally, the only sounds during sex with him were your own pants, his breathing, and the sound of his body slapping into yours. A rare moan tumbled from his mouth, making you clench around him. You licked your lips, wanting another. His eyes were on your connection, watching himself sink into you and disappear entirely. His face was…indiscernable. Somewhere between entranced and desperate.

You took a chance, seeing he was in a different mood than ever before. Putting his hands in yours, you brought them off your hips and laced your fingers into his. As his hands met yours, you leaned into them and let him hold your weight as you rode him. As you tried to find a pace, you watched his eyes tighten close, another breathy moan forced out of him.

Oh, the things that sound did to you. Was this was how good he felt when he was fucking you? Was this that high he seemed to be chasing every time you eagerly let him pin you down?

Unpracticed and clumsy, your hips rolled over his cock. Soon you were letting your full body weight fall into his lap as you plunged him as deeply as you could. You leaned in for a kiss, your own motions making your mouths slide over each other as your lips tried to make contact in the right places. Failing, you left kisses on his chin, his cheek, just below his nose. Another moan, a sigh, then--- did you hear your name ghost over your mouth?

That was all you needed, you slowed and ground down on him, friction bringing you to the edge and tossing your body over it with a violent shudder.

As you stilled, trying to ride out your orgasm, Alastor bucked up into you. A little scream as your softened walls jumped at the contact. Another thrust up, until he was fucking you through the after effects of your orgasm, chasing his own. You wanted to say something, but you didn't want to push. This was already so out of the norm, you felt the moment was fragile.

He whinced, a series of moans threatening to make you cum all over again as he met his release. You could feel his cock jerking inside you, twitching as he flooded you with his seed. What a lovely feeling, warm and full. You wanted to roll off before you dripped down him, another thing you knew he was uncomfortable with. But when you tried to move his hands went back to your hips and pressed you down. His head pushing deep against the end of your cunt.

"Please, just-- stay like this for me." His voice was low and soft against your cheek, a loud crack of static peppering his voice.

You'd stay like this until the inevitable heat death of the universe if he asked. You'd never leave his cock if he so much as mentioned the idea.

#alastor smut #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfiction #alastor x you #alastor fanfiction

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xoxo-surfergirl · 1 month ago

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dawn of winter

aemond targaryen x fem!stark!reader

abstract: just moons ago, the realm was at peace and you were stealing kisses with aemond in the red keep. now, the dance of the dragons has begun, aemond has arrived at winterfell knowing your brother would bend to rhaenyra, and nothing feels certain. themes: winter vibes, lovers to enemies to lovers, light smut, romance, angst (because they enemies!), forbidden romance if you squint, hand stuff, you are lady stark, aemond goes for what he wants, the northman not being happy abt it

lucy's notes: ao3 link. just a little something for the new year :) the north is cold and that is my holiday connection 😤 (that's what i'm telling myself because I really wanted to write SOMETHING for this time of year but didn't fully know what). jacaerys did not leave for his mission quick enough and aemond beat him to winterfell 🫢 cregan still hates him tho. and since aemond didn't go to the stormlands lucerys lives too. this will probably be a one shot, though I started a short epilogue which might be posted. it's just an excuse for romance and vibes. i hope you enjoy this story! any interaction is deeply appreciated <3

word count: 7.2k

What little sun there was fettered a white glow in the ever-churning snowfall. The winds of winter had begun their journey south from beyond the wall just a few moons ago, but their strength had built furiously since then. The treetops hadn’t seen a pale morning’s dawn in over three moons, and the wolf’s choir had grown in numbers near Moat Cailin. The elders of Wintertown had spoken of a harsh winter then, noting the heavy fog in late summer, thicker tails on the burrow rats, and tougher skins on the onions.

It had certainly come. The storm that had hung low over Winterfell, carrying all the way from Castle Cerwyn to Deepwood Motte, had settled thick winds and heavy snows on every stone, tree, and fort. And to mark the special occasion, the Great Hall of the castle would be set alight for winterfest.

All families of bannermen were being called to share in the centuries honored tradition of hosting a great feast and celebration in honor of the coming snows. And, as happenstance may have it, there was urgency to discuss the matter of succession in the south.

As if the usurpation of your Queen wasn’t enough, unexpected guests had descended upon Winterfell. One of which had bronze wings as wide as a small keep, and another bearing a halo of Targaryen silver hair.

Upon your return home, you had dreamed of a moment like this: Vhagar bared in the snow, each frozen flake blistering against her scaled skin. A mountain of her own, even the closest ground to her steaming from her eternal heat.

But things were not as they were those moons ago, hands and touch lingering under the beat of the southern sun. The water there had been warm enough to swim in, ankles brushing against the lapping tongues of the break and toes worming through the sand. There was no snow, and the realm was united.

The men had armed themselves at the sight of her shadow, hands gripping their weapons tight. Movement in the castle was always a flurry of feet, but now all were either frozen or frenzied at the arrival. All the feelings of summer pooled in your belly, the taint of winter now upon them. Shouts of men filled the battlements, calling for the warden of the north to meet the crown prince of the realm, the unspoken part following in silence: brother to the usurper. Your belly sank, dragging your heart with it.

Any pleasant thoughts of Aemond’s arrival had long faded the moment a raven had arrived from White Harbor. Things were different now. Vhagar’s proximity to the gates of the castle had to be an intentional act of dominance, her wings spread to their fullest length in a show of size and prowess. The thought certainly soured things more than they already were.

Men in heavy blue wools and leathers ran past you, gathering at all posts. Servants gathered the young children and corralled them inside. Your feet caught on the ground, unsure whether you should run or join the entourage gathering to meet him. Watching from above, you could see the doormen heeding orders to open the gates to the castle, hesitation in their every crank of the pulley for what awaited them on the other side. As the gate lifted, so did what felt like your last defenses, no matter how meager they felt against a dragon.

The Umbers and Flints flanked your brother on their exit from the Great Keep, and you knew you must act now. It calmed you to watch them: each northman walked with pride, furs sitting as a second skin against their long dark hair. It was a show of strength you needed, though you were sure you were not alone.

Your boots clicked in a scurry down the steps of the battlements, pushing hurriedly past any servant or workman that stood in your way. Ultimately, you decided that if Aemond did have any care left for you, your presence might de-escalate any arising tension. By the time you had entered the courtyard, the east gate had opened and Aemond stood as one against many in greeting.

A black fur sat wide on his shoulders, but the large cloak that fell beneath it hardly concealed the hilt of the swords he carried at each hip. He looked every bit as lethal as his dragon’s head rearing over the gates. Your heart ached against your rational judgement at the sight of him, and you slowed your movements.

A figure made in the image of Gods, you were sure of it. Imagining his silver hair and sharpness in your mind’s eye did no service to the beacon of beauty he was in the flesh. For a moment, it was summer again, and your stomach bubbled in cheerful anticipation and not caution.

Tentatively, you emerged from behind your brother’s side, snow crunching lightly beneath your boots. The moment he noticed you, the air turned warmer.

“My Lady Stark,” he bowed to you, his eye fixed loyally to yours.

It was beneath him to honor you with a bow. Your belly twinged at the thought of him being so brazen, and the eyes that gazed upon you with a new peculiar interest.

The formalities felt foreign and out of place, but arising more suspicion with familiarities felt worse. “Prince Aemond, I welcome you to my home.”

Before another word could be spoken, Cregan placed a firm hand on the back of your shoulder. “The prince is here to talk over some official matters. Come, let us get warm inside.”

Introductions were passed away from you, Cregan continuing his tight lead on your shoulder.

Northern furs suit him quite well, you thought.

—

The sun had long descended over the hills, the icy night’s breath beyond the wall welcoming anyone who stepped outside. The Great Hall was adorned in pine wreaths and winter berries, and cedar cones and noble fir dressing for the festivities. Candle holders layered upon another to flay light across the walls, the wax of days upon moons dripping down the sides of the holders like heavy icing on cakes.

It felt like ages since all of the Stark bannermen had been together, and old friends across families traded stories and card games over spiced ale and honey mead. The raucous had already begun, the succession crisis and Aemond’s presence be damned.

But you were less immune than the others to southron matters. If it was any other night, you would have abandoned your seat to join the Mormonts the moment dessert had been served. You had hardly flinched from your seat, Aemond sitting on the other side of Cregan.

It wasn’t just you that struggled to enjoy the festivities. Rickon sat solemnly, and though you couldn’t see her, you could feel Alysanne’s itch from across the table. In your memory, there had not been a sup as tense as the one before you now. Not even during the most raucous moments of Bennard’s regency.

From what you could see, Aemond sat chin up at your brother’s right hand in the Great Hall, daring to meet the eye of anyone who looked directly at him for too long.

Did he remember? Joining in the merriment felt far as Aemond’s closeness held your mind and heart in the great bind that you had all fallen into at the defiance of Aegon’s coronation. Between the warmth of your southron days in a peaceful realm and the uncertain tidings of the inevitability of your families splitting across enemy lines, your stomach turned at the matters in Aemond’s head.

Cregan stood, the jolly room following the attention of their liege loyally. “Prince Aemond Targaryen has graced us with his presence for our winter festivities.”

“The honor is mine to be in the north at such an important time.” At his own recognition he stood, raising his cup.

“Hear, hear!” Cregan cheered, the tension in his jaw visible to no one but you. Cups flew in celebration, horns clattering and ale spilling. With a signalling of his hand, the bards began fiddling with strings and bells.

Dismissing himself from the table in what you knew was an act meant to soothe himself before he swung Ice at the nearest unlucky post, your brother stepped down to greet the Reeds. Mulled wine danced in your cup, the dark purple echoing cinnamon and anise. There was now nothing between you and Aemond besides the empty chair of the head of house Stark. The hearths were lit—the giant towering stone was hardly cold—but there was no stopping the twinge of a shiver.

So many words had been shared before Aegon had stolen the crown, and you wondered if he remembered all of them. It had been moons since you had seen each other last, and there was no promise of what played in his intentions anymore.

Your mouth was in front of your head. “These are curious times, but winter comes anyway. The one force we must all bow to.”

“And you celebrate instead of damning it?”

You had imagined begging the gods to bring you two together again. But winds can switch within weeks, days even. It was a child’s folly, or a wish upon a monkey’s paw—you couldn’t decide which.

“Aye, we do. The longer nights, nature calls us to rest and gain our strength,” you paused. “We could stare at it for the death it brings, but it’s more than that.”

“Hmm,” his eye washed over the scene below: jubilant dancers shedding their furs, others shoving their faces with cranberry roast goose while the songs bounced in the high halls of the winter kings. There was a carefree nature of your fellow northmen that you had never seen in the south, and you wondered if the warmth built up more layers than it shed.

“I know you southerners don’t understand our ways. I’m sure this is very new to you.”

He turned, eye dancing over your face. “I find it interesting.”

Dragons rarely came north. Aemond stood lone.

Perhaps it was the merry presence of all those you loved dearly, or the choke of death you could sense from miles away, but the distance between you and Aemond felt treacherous. Or worse, traitorous.

You met Aemond’s eye. For so long, he had been a figure in your mind, his presence almost a hypothetical. He existed in a warmer land, one where the sun and sea sparkled off of one another and the dirt sprouted grass and red brick rose the heights of the cliffs to the heavens. Crisis in the south were always so far away, great rivers and mountain passes requiring over a moon’s journey lying between. But he was here now: skin flickering in the flames burning not for light but for warmth as well, Targaryen silver hair feathered down his back like the hands of a ghost, scar dividing his face, as beautiful as the day you had first seen him.

He studied you just the same. Between you, wintry tunes twiddled by the practiced fingers of the musicians sung of the kings of winter, slayers of skinchangers and defenders of what lies beyond the wall, the keepers of knowledge that southerners can not begin to grasp find their home here carried through your blood.

This was your time to share those stories, celebrate the old kings and the promise of winter’s darkness with the singers and all of those that had gathered here for what is thoroughly a northerner’s celebration. Yet here you were at an invisible crossroads with the prince of the realm who would not stand to be denied in mind or matter. His royal blood continuously pulled at you to attend as if you were still in the Red Keep and not in your very own halls.

A Targaryen or two had visited Winterfell once, though the last was under much less grievous circumstances. Alysanne’s was the last dragon to brave the frozen lands, her and Jaehaerys on a true diplomatic mission with no threat of doom hanging over their heads.

You lot were wolves, fur thick and jaws tight, sturdy and hard enough to endure the ice—and yet dragons cowed the winter kings. Aemond’s presence was a cold reminder of that. Dragonfire had never teased Winterfell with ash, but the threat of it lingered now like a stubborn ember in the hearth ready to erupt if a nasty draught came through.

Cregan settled back to the table, his face stern and carrying judgement. He took his seat between you once more, dissolving your attentions.

“My father swore an oath to Rhaenyra,” he began, unbreaking of his eye contact and at a level only detectable by those sitting closest to him. “A Stark never forgets an oath. I would have assumed our reputation would be well met.”

“I understand this, Lord Stark.” Aemond began. There was no hesitation spared from the proud dragon prince. “I simply wanted to make our stances official in the name of the crown.”

Apprehension and distrust hung in the low firelight. The bells beat on behind the attention of the table, singers caroling the haunt of winter between the silence of the prince and the lord.

“Your dragon may be fierce, my prince, but we will not be intimidated.” At Cregan’s declaration, you could feel the ears of the northmen sitting the closest to your table perk up, straightening their backs and harden their own faces—an assertion of pride and a foregoing of the fear that painstakingly had etched itself in their movements at Vhagar’s every grumble.

“I do not seek to intimidate you. Only to draw our lines.” Aemond sat back in his chair, eyeing you.

“Very well then. Our lines are drawn.” Cregan’s brow tensed, and you knew he was biting down hard in restraint.

The singers sang their songs of winter’s past, and the promise of an eventual spring.

—

“He wants us to see that fire breathing monster—

“He’s come to sabotage our army, or count our numbers, or—”

“Aye, I don’t trust him. There’s something not quite right, the Targaryen madness—”

The hour was late. Spittle had spattered across the table, fists flying, heads nodding, voices climbing higher and higher to be heard. The bards had returned to Wintertown, and all the celebration left with them. The northmen were restless, and understandably so with bellies full of too much ale and a dubious dragon prince lurking in the halls. All you lot had prayed the days of clandestine meetings were over once Cregan took the seat of Winterfell, but it had been too soon to hope.

Volleys of theories here or there made their rounds back and forth from all ends of the table. A pack of barking dogs was no better than the fur cloaked rowdy men who were in the heat of spitting at each other now. Cregan’s fist slamming on the wood was enough to draw quiet. “Enough. I demand order to this conversation.”

The hounds had been admonished, tails sinking between their legs at the scolding of their master. There was a moment of reprieve, where sensibility was able to override unordered chatter.

Satisfied with the settlement, Cregan nodded. “Aye, let us speak about this reasonably.”

It was most prudent to speak quietly anyways, considering the halls reeked of dragon. The candle marks were ever shrinking and your energy with it into what had to be the longest night you’d endured in ages. No amount of shouting could awaken you, though you prayed a reigned conversation would allow you to slip into your chambers faster.

Until the words spilled from Wylis Manderly’s mouth and promptly stole not only any draft of sleep in your body, but the breath in your chest as well.

“I know why he’s here,” Manderly started. “Her.”

It wasn’t supposed to be an accusation, but it sure did feel like one, the way it made your chest nearly cave and your defenses rise. The finger he pointed at your forehead felt like an arrow finding its target: lethal and sure of itself. The rest of the eyes at the table followed suit, curious.

“He’s here for her.” Manderly repeated, as if his pointing wasn’t enough.

There were very few times that you had been the subject of a council meeting, and you preferred it that way. It was no fun to have yourself torn apart and examined, no matter the purpose. Your eyes found those of your brother’s reflexively, breath catching in your throat in disbelief.

He returned it carefully. “Explain, Wylis.”

“His eye finds ‘ers. I know the look. He fancies her.” Manderly cocked his head. “She spent more than a few sun’s turns in the South. ‘Twas not more than about seven moons do I remember you comin’ home. Enough time to court our fine lady of the north, don’t ya think?”

The Lord of White Harbor might as well have stripped you bare, prying each layer of your dress with his claw-like hands to leave you exposed in view of the table. It wouldn’t feel any different.

“Is it true, sister?”

Fingers danced across your flesh, platinum hair sliding through your fingers. His thick, masculine moan vibrated on your tongue as his hands tested the weight of the flesh of your hips through squeezes and shakes. It wasn’t a sennight before that when your own fingers twirled your bud and you discreetly thought of him, despite everything.

“Prince Aemond and I were acquainted as friends. Nothing more.”

There was hesitancy in the way the men looked at you now, men of your own blood and land. A separation only possible between those with a cock and those without: the innate distrust that comes with the potential of reaching across enemy lines for the sake of living in a singer's tale. If you could sink down between the floorboards, you would have.

Cregan furrowed his brows, eyes never leaving you. “To you, maybe. The prince may feel differently.”

A bow of your head was all you knew to do. There was no need to deny anything further and spin a mummer’s tale. Lies never sat well in your stomach, to your brother no less.

The lords were dismissed per the late hour and the dreadful sense that Manderly was right. The back of your chair scraped along with the others, but your leave was halted.

“Not you, sister.”

It felt like being a little girl again, and your shoulders tensed to be scolded.

Voice small, you obliged. “Yes, brother.”

He walked towards you, placing his hands on your shoulders. Cregan’s grey stormed eyes passed through yours in a knowing, but you dared not say a word. Once the door had shut behind the very last man, he exhaled.

“He’s a dangerous man.” You could see the other words on his tongue, but you never heard them.

“I know.”

He held you there for a moment, and you wondered if he would tell you what was on his mind, what exactly he believed, and you wondered how you would react if he did. All you needed to spill yourself was one more weak push. One more word and he would know how you knew Aemond cared for you, he had promised several moons ago that he would come see you.

But he never asked, and the truth stayed buried in your throat.

—

In the darkest cave of the night, silence was unyielding. Every wolf’s howl was clamped over the mouth by snow, each sound buried alive in the cold white. It made each scurry of a mouse or crackle of a hearth in the castle stiffeningly louder.

Including your footsteps, which you were carefully navigating for discretion all the way to Aemond’s chambers. There would be no sleeping without putting your own matters to rest.

Unthinking, you reached for the door handle and rattled against the lock that held it tight. Your urgency felt out of place in the quiet tranquility of the night. His footsteps within were hesitant and slow. When the door opened, Aemond stood dagger pointed. For a moment, you felt what it was like to be on the other end of his blade, neck laid for the slaughter and his own eye hardened at the intruder who dared seek him at this hour.

At your wide eyes, he softened.

“Lady Stark.”

You didn’t want to waste any time. “Why are you here?”

“Hmm. I think you know why I’m here.” Aemond stalked closer. “I told you I’d come, little wolf.”

“They know.”

“Do they now?” a faint smirk played on his lips now. He stepped aside to welcome you in. “And what did they say about their fairest maiden and their newfound enemy?”

You stepped inside, unable to meet him. “I did not tell them.”

Aemond’s movements stopped. “Why not?”

For all the time you knew him, Aemond was supposed to be smart. A learned man who you could count on not just for knowledge but strategy and cleverness. His stubbornness to see your reasoning surprised you.

“It’s too dangerous. We’re entering war times.”

He scoffed. “If Winterfell wasn’t the safest place for you to be, I’d drag you on dragonback to King’s Landing. The second most safe place to be is by my side.”

“My father swore an oath to Rhaenyra.”

Aemond hardened then, cocking his head. His silhouette reflected that of his warrior nature.

“Are you sure you Starks are strong in your word?” His glare tore through you and you knew the memory he had held on so tightly to come all this way. So he did remember everything.

“I never promised my hand.” The moment the words left your lips, you felt their harshness. Guilt crept in, sinking in your heart.

Aemond exhaled sharply. “Did you have to? Was a pledge of your feelings not enough?”

“Aemond,” you warned, a careful hush of urgency in your voice, “I can’t.”

He burned. You could see it plain. “War is coming. You will stay here in Winterfell.”

It wasn’t as if you wouldn’t—he had told you nothing you were not already beholden to. But you saw Cregan and the others, thick in furs and heavy swords strapped to their backs marching south. Every further thought sickened you: dragons overhead, iron-melting flames casting over them.

There was a promise in his words, unspoken but just as present in the implication of safety. I will not bring war to Winterfell.

“I don’t want this.” The words slipped mindlessly. It was helpless to speak aloud. Aemond knew it, as did you.

He stalked towards you, face solemn yet set in the firmness of him. Gently, he took your hand in his, raising it to his lips. “I will come for you when the war is done.”

“But my brothers—”

“I don’t give a shit about your brothers.”

“Aemond,” you scolded.

“Do you not want this?” Aemond said in both query and anger, as if he could not fathom the idea of not being with him.

In truth, you couldn’t either. Memory melted in the sun, the cold that knocked on the gates of the castle chased away by the bright burn of a summer’s passion. Days watching the sweat on his brow as he swung his sword at Ser Cole, using the trivial training yard victories as reason to celebrate with your hands on his chest and his on your waist. Feasts spent sending cheeky looks to each other in a tease as he sat on the high table with the royal family, until he could come down and join the likes of you.

There was something precious between you, far beyond drunk desire in flesh. It made each kiss you shared all the sweeter.

You enjoyed it, the way that at first, he pretended like he wasn’t desperate for your affections. It made things fun, because the truth rested in his eye the moment of your first meeting. Over time, the mask melted and the truth was in his words, actions—and nothing he felt for you wasn’t returned.

At the time, your secret tongues and lips found themselves in the only shadow that you knew existed. but there were many more beyond your knowledge, whispering about what you had believed to be a decided matter of succession.

Winter had come and things were so, painfully different now.

“I want this, but I can’t.” Every bit of what you felt was evident in your voice. “How can you not see that?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“We are on opposite sides, Aemond.”

He shrugged. “You’re a lady. It’s not like you’re going to fight.”

“My brothers are. My men are. They will be on the battlefield, as will you.”

He pursed his lips, looking away from you in resignation of the truth. “Let us hope that our paths do not cross.”

The sink of your stomach was heavy enough that you took small steps backing away. The depths of the winter night whipped at your window. The wind sang a deathly tale, a warning to any who may try to brave it. Or maybe it was for you, the old gods finding a way to tell you that you were damned, as was he, as was whatever it was that lay between you both. Aemond stood, all of the fire in the hearth catching in his long starlight hair, the determination of the warrior he was—and would soon become—deep in his being.

“Don’t look so afraid of me.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? You’ll be commanding armies against mine. And you have a dragon.”

He took careful steps towards you, reaching a tender hand towards your face. “I would never hurt you.”

Words came to your tongue, but the feeling of his skin on your cheek dissolved any refute. He was even nearer now, the bend in your neck needed to find his eye. Aemond’s other hand found your bare cheek, and you stopped yourself from melting in the comfort of his gentle hold.

“Let me just be Aemond, not a prince,” his thumb caressed the pillow of your cheek lightly. “Let yourself just be you, not Lady Stark. Just this once.”

It was a nice thought: an escape from the lurking turmoil of metal on metal, metal on skin. The sword at his hip pressed into the side of your belly, the very thing that by winter’s end will have the blood of hundreds soaked through. Prince Aemond Targaryen, the deliverer of souls to their eternal sleep, whether it be damning them for choosing black or for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dragonflame was like that, wild and uncontrolled.

And you, Lady Stark, sister to the keeper of the north who had chosen black, who must follow in the steps of your kin for the sake of upholding honor. Who will sit in the dead of the north by the weirwood each day and pray to the gods that her brother will return, that her burly friends will join her by the fire once more to shoot the shit, that no one will be so unlucky to be caught beneath the wings of the beast that lay outside the castle walls or under the blade of the man in front of her.

No, you couldn’t be her. Not right now. Your lips parted in a pitiful protest—the very last you had in you, you knew—but his desperation silenced you.

“Please,” he nearly panted. His lips came closer, breath hot on your lips.

Was it honorable to feel the tongue of someone your family had sworn against? No, perhaps not. But—you reminded yourself, in a sorry attempt to make excuses—for now he was just Aemond.

And ‘just’ Aemond had delightfully silky locks to lightly twist your fingers in as your kiss deepended.

His doublet was thick and you wondered if he had it made for his visit. His visit to you. Running your hands along the sides of him, you felt the daggers at his hip, subtle but ready. Aemond was already feeling through your own dress, sifting through the layers to get to your skin. Each of you searching for one another’s flesh.

The heel of your foot lifted out of your slipper with the help of your other toes. Aemond was reaching to unclasp the buckles of his doublet, the both of you doing your own part while keeping your mouths on each other in your climb to get close.

Of all your frolicking, you had yet to see each other so bare. Your time in the Red Keep hadn’t allowed for many private moments. Kisses were frequently stolen between training sessions and feasts, but the risk of being found in Aemond’s chambers—or him in yours—could be far too incriminating for your reputation. The one or two moments where you did find yourself alone in his chambers solely to see a book or another in his favor, and you were never there over a candle mark.

Winterfell was different from the Red Keep. There were far fewer vipers and spiders on the hunt. The hour was late, even later than any potential vipers may burden themselves to stay awake for. If one happened to see you, they served wolves and not dragons anyway. It was freeing to have him like this, a moment you had been long waiting for.

Aemond’s kiss was a seal of your condemnation, for from the first touch of your tongues those moons ago, you knew that at no point after tasting such a sweet nectar would you not seek it out over and over again. It was just as mind bending as it had been every other time: soft at first and leading into fullness. You had dreamed of his tongue on yours again, down your throat and lips on yours to consume you. He was hungry and you gladly fed the beast within him. The blood beneath his flesh burned hot, and the buds on your chest hardened at the feel of your bareness against his.

Long platinum locks lightly brushed over your shoulders in a sensual dance. Your hands roamed his body in curiosity and a thirst for closeness. It was hardened and soft all at once, the shape of him only feeding the burn of your desire.

It was difficult to admit to yourself how much you had needed this, having pushed it down when the sun set day after day and you struggled to remind yourself that Aemond was now a traitor to your queen and therefore your honor. His hands in your hair, feeling the dips and curves of your own body. Now, such things dissolved in the spit that passed from your lips to his, the animal of desire breaking through any code you clung to.

Holding you by your hips, Aemond backed you against his bed. His hands urged your thighs upward so your back may rest on the bed, as if he was preparing you for himself. You followed his lead dutifully, each graze of his fingers along your bare legs sending your belly alight.

Aemond leaned above you now, having joined you on the bed. “You’re all mine.”

“Yours,” you replied, rejoining your fingers to lace in his locks, holding his face as if it were a holy grail.

His fingers trailed lower across your stomach, past the heat between your legs and the dip where your leg met your hip. At their slight movement, you could feel more wetness begin to drip out of you, the teasing motion of his hands feeling so close…yet so far. Wide palms and lithe fingers moved to caress the skin just deeper than the inside of your knee. Featherlight touches on your skin reached outward towards your

Aemond moved patiently over your wetness with time to spare, despite your squirms and soft moans telling him that you were more than ready to feel the pads of his fingers. Soft kisses lined your cheek before dipping his lips and tongue into your mouth in deep union. His cock, covered by the cotton of his small clothes, sat heated and heavy on your leg. Every feel of him made you want him more.

Breaking you free from your prison of desire, his fingers finally brushed over your center. They most delicately gathered the nectar at your lips, playing with it against the flower of your entrance. The simple movement, yet another tease of his touch, weakened you into a puddle beneath his hand. His thumb found your clit, beginning slow circles there.

He was winding you up like a toy, playing you on his hand to make pretty noises. If he had asked you to do anything at that moment, you would have said yes.

Aemond’s other had reached up to meet your bottom lip, letting the pad of his thumb rest there. With wide eyes you accepted it to sit on your tongue, drawing it softly into your mouth before pulling back once more.

“That’s it, my little wolf” he said, releasing your lips their fixation.

There was little else you cared for, sitting on your bed in the humble guest chambers, hearth warmed and Aemond’s fingers sinking deep into your core and curling deliciously.

“Shh. You don’t want your northmen to hear, do you?” He said it, punching his words with another tight movement at the perfect place deep within you in a smug maneuver that he knew would have a moan choking from your throat despite the deep silence that surrounded you.

He was right, you didn’t, but you hardly cared if it meant his hands continued their sync. Every drop of hesitation and secrecy you had so desired earlier had been drowned out by the tight wanting of your core, wetness slipping down his fingers and coating the very inside of your thighs.

When your pleasure peaked into ecstasy, your honey soaked walls squeezed and fluttered around him, arms looped and holding him tight to you in breathy moans that were meant for him only. There were truly no boundaries wrapped between you now, even if just for a moment, the long absence of his touch and feel sinking deep into your essence.

Humming in satisfaction, Aemond slid his forefingers coated in your syrupy sex into his mouth. “I didn’t know the honor of a Stark tasted so delicious”

All the furs that had once sat heavily on the bed had slid off. Flesh against flesh, you were content in your afterglow, pushing away thoughts of tomorrow or the day after. Aemond’s hands were hungry more, his own desire hardly satiated. His cock weighed on your stomach, hips needily pressing into yours.

“Baby, you’re so soaked. Your body needs me inside you,” Aemond brushed his nose with yours, cock sliding over your pillowy lips.

He must have been a devil of some kind, the enemy, for trying to convince you that your maidenhead could be sacrificed while he was on a diplomatic mission.

Sensing your hesitation, he hummed into your mouth, drawing you into another kiss.

“Who would I be to leave you like this? You need to be fucked.” he purred into your ear, and your own hips flexed in release.

It was tempting. It was. But your virtue remained imperatively prudent, and no amount of Aemond’s want would change it. “I’m a maiden. You know this.”

“Does it matter if I want to marry you anyway?” His voice was lust-drunk, buried in your neck and leaving traces of kisses there.

You giggled, shifting under him. “Yes, Aemond.”

“Hmm.” He grumbled, lifting himself onto his elbows to look you in the face. “Guess I’ll just have to do it now then.”

It passed between you then, a faint look of heartbreak at the reality of what such things would mean, or what they would take. The betrayal of your brother, of your fellow bannermen—the question of Aemond’s truest allegiances, marriage or not, always sitting in the back of your mind. Roiling dragonfire and singing blades sliding against another in strain.

“I don’t care where we stand. You’re mine, Lady Stark. Nothing will ever change that.”

A kiss was your only reply, caught in the trouble and pleasure of his words, a sentence that fulfilled everything and nothing that you wanted to hear. Desperate and searching it was, searching for an end to the madness you were both inevitably walking towards and away from your unity.

With your limbs intertwined, heart to heart, each of you felt all of the possible flesh you could. You let yourself close your eyes in his embrace, candles dying in the latest hours of the night. Maybe, you thought, this moment could be eternal if you let it: if you were truly present in his warmth and flesh, it could anchor you both in time, allowing you both to feel and hold each other for centuries. No blood would soak into the dirt nor stain your hands. Never had you clung to an idea of peace so hard.

In another world, Rhaenyra ascended the throne just as the realm had thought. Your journey south would have been fulfilled just the same. Someone of importance would take note of your affinity for each other, and given that you were not being clearly stowed away for one dragon versus another, a marriage proposal would be signed and sent to your brother north. He would read it and scowl at the thought of his sister being tied to the Targaryen blood almost all Starks were partial to hating, but at the sight of your ease, he would relent. A wedding would be hosted in the Great Sept to please your prince and southron overlords, and another at the heart tree of Winterfell’s godswood.

You clung to your fantasy in the low hours until your knuckles turned white, Aemond’s soft breathing warming your cheek. But clinging to anything fleeting often meant bloodying your hands or being dragged until you let go.

Those in the south lived in an endless summer, whether they realized it or not. Many would claim a chill or swear they felt the winds change. Perhaps snow even fell occasionally—but such a faint dusting would cower in the face of the fronts from beyond the wall. Such a front scratched at the window of Aemond’s chamber now. It was a most cruel master to any bare skin unlucky enough to bear it, beating it raw until cracks formed and blood spurred. A similar iciness was threatening to drown you from the inside, only made stronger by the beat of Aemond’s blood in your ears.

No matter how much you wished it not be true, your honor could not allow you to stay in his arms for another moment. Especially not after you had indulged yourself on his fingers and lips.

Sloughing off the furs, you crept carefully to the mess of layers of your dress on the floor. It was late—or early, put differently—enough that you could do your best to get away with not wearing your full dress back to your room. As long as your previous state of savagery wasn’t obvious, the essentials would do.

When your eyes awoke once more in your own bed, it was to the ancient cry of a dragon. Your heavy legs and eyes ran to catch up with what you knew was happening, what you must confirm quickly in a hazy winter’s light. From the window, you could see Vhagar lifted her bronze head into the sky, fire threatening to leave the cavern of her throat. Her solemn grumbling echoed through the valley, swirling with the wind singing through the trees.

Cradles of snowflakes fell as falling stars, silver embers burning in the early light. It was still night—constellations just barely beginning to fade. Grabbing your furs to quickly wrap around your shoulders, you rushed out of your chambers. The torches in the hallway burned low. It was the last hour before they would be re-lit for another day’s warmth. Flames flickered past you in your hasty steps to the outermost walls of the castle.

You caught sight of Aemond, stalking into the arms of the frosted northern wild, a sickened determination—or resignation, you didn’t know which—in his steps. The black of his furs cradled his silver hair, a delicate, feathery mix of dark and light.

A goodbye wouldn’t have been wise, for you knew if you hadn’t left his chambers you would both wake up and refuse to leave each other’s side—or rather, he’d refuse you to leave his. If he was in front of you, he knew he could convince you of anything. There was too deep of suspicion for the prince to arouse the maiden Lady Stark, and Aemond was a smart man.

Or at least you told yourself so, hoping that he wasn’t bitter like he was in your fears, and that he understood.

The battlements on which you stood were tall enough to rise over any enemy that Winterfell might face. Thousands of years had seen enemies fall in front of the stone giants that guarded the innermost castle. Enemies of centuries past faltered against all kings of winter, sound in their defenses and strong in their charge. Any enemy but Aemond.

Heavy wings wafted through the north wind, the shadow of Vhagar draining the moon and snowlight from the sky in the shape of war-torn wings. With a large curl of her body, she turned to the walls on which you stood. Muscled and bronzed, Aemond and his beast came closer. You had never seen a dragon in flight so near to you. Her heavy legs hung in the air, the claws themselves thicker than your largest studs.

A few men below began howling in fear, but you knew something they did not. Even as she drew nearer and her wings covered Winterfell in shadow and her maw roared close enough you could see her blood soaked teeth and feel her boiling breath in the chapped air. It was warm against your cheek, a balm against the pale morning’s frost, comfort blooming where it touched. Near everything but the foundation of the castle itself shook against the dragon’s cry, mountainous wings curling wind through your hair.

There was a time when Harren the Black had seen a similar sight: the interchange between day and night, a beast larger than a small keep looming over his home, an impenetrable castle. Fire had burned deep in Balerion’s chest, and his black teeth were the gates of hellfire to all those who rested in Harrenhal. Aemond and Vhagar loomed above Winterfell now in a fierce stand, leaving you and all of your men as nothing but ash in the wind if he so desired.

You knew he didn’t.

Vhagar roared again, something painful desperately clawing from her chest, and you could feel the solemn echo of Aemond’s own turmoil. Her wings lifted higher through her cry, large body clawing through the sky until the darkness of her ascended into the heavy snow clouds.

The next time you saw the prince, the crown of the conqueror sat on his head as if it was made for him, and winter had licked your skin raw.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!stark!reader #ewan mitchell smut #i was slightly unhappy with this #but alas it must be posted eventually #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond targaryen smut

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slytherizz · 1 year ago

Text

Everything, with you - Sebastian Sallow x F!MC/Reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+ | Breeding Kink | Size Kink | explicit sexual content | Dad!Seb

All tags can be found on Ao3

Summary:

"Watching you carry my children is one of life's greatest pleasures. If it's possible - you're more beautiful now than you've ever been.”

“Do you ever think about…”

“Having another one?”

A/N This works as a stand-alone but if you happened to have read either of my long fics this would sit either after the epilogue of 'Whatever it Takes' or in between the final chapter and the epilogue of 'In the Shadow of Us' (but I omitted the Azkaban references so it works for both). I have literally nothing to say for myself for this one other than...

For the thicc Seb girlies 💕

Dark curly hair tickled the underside of Sebastian's chin as he adjusted his son nestled in his lap. Book resting against his knee which was bent at an awkward and rather uncomfortable angle where he'd managed to cram himself onto Sam's little bed. Sebastian’s neck ached and his left leg was almost completely dead. Not that he minded. He knew his youngest would outgrow this one day, and would no longer need his father to read him fairytales. So Sebastian succumbed easily to Sam’s pleading and let himself be the dutiful mountain against which his son could rest.

"Now, this word’s a little tricky, so take your time with it,” Sebastian tapped his finger on the page. "What does this say?"

"I'm not sure." Sam frowned. He traced his pudgy finger over the unfamiliar word and along the bright plume of fiery feathers printed in rich shades of red and gold on the page. The enchanted bird ruffled its wings as it clicked its beak attempting to nip at Sam's fingers. Each time the bird squawked soundlessly as he stroked its plumage Sam giggled with delight.

"Sound it out. You see right here? The 'Ph' makes an ‘f’ sound.”

"Like ‘t’ and ‘h’ make a 'the' sound?"

“Exactly right. Two letters. One sound,” Sebastian said, ruffling his boy's hair proudly.

Alice, his eldest had always had an uncanny ability to memorise words. Could recall the contents of practically every book he'd ever given her once she’d devoured it. She'd taken great pride in unnerving her primary school teacher by listing every ingredient in ‘A draft of living death’. Which may have seemed like a feat within itself…until she’d insisted on doing it backwards.

His unique form of parenting had been called into question more than once by her teachers but who was he to tell his daughter that ‘most potent potions’ was not appropriate bedtime reading? Restricting her inquisitive mind would be a far greater sin.

Sam's little mind on the other hand worked like a tinker. Slower it may seem than his sister as he pieced together meaning. But that wasn’t nearly the case. Simply because he liked to fiddle with things more than his sister. Take a word apart and rearrange it before dismantling it again entirely. He picked apart the rules as he learnt them. All whilst, humming sagely from time to time like he was some great philosopher and he wasn't in fact, a boy of four who had spent the morning sulking when there was no honey left in the pantry for his toast.

“Try sounding it out," he encouraged.

"Fee-nix?" Sam’s brows furrowed slightly the new word unfamiliar and clunky on his tongue. "Pheonix?"

"That’s it. You’re doing well. Now I know you know the rest of it. Reckon you can read the full sentence?”

"The p-phoenix went up in…smoke?"

"Clever boy!"

Sam turned to look up at Sebastian, puffing out his chest with pride. Sebastian kissed the crown of his head affectionately. Sam burrowed his head into his shirt trying and failing to disguise a yawn against his father's chest.

Snapping the book closed and placing it on his bedside table. Sebastian scooped him up as he shifted off the small bed placing his son snuggly under the quilt constellations in golden thread adorned its edges.

“Right, I think that's enough for tonight. Bedtime for you mister.”

“But I'm not tired,” Sam protested. Rubbing his drooping eyelids which did little to rally his father to his plight. Eyes so like his mother's framed under furrowed dark brows. Stubbornness was an inherited trait and with how pigheaded he and his wife could be Sebastian should have known his children would be no different.

“I'm sure you're not,” Sebastian chuckled. Tucking the blankets tighter around his squirming limbs. “But it's already way past your bedtime. If you settle down I’ll put the stars up - How does that sound?”

Sam grinned, nodding his head eagerly as he buried his head deeper into his pillow. Sebastian pulled out his wand. Sam’s eyes lighting up. Glittering as they always get in his eyes when either of her parents performed even the simplest of charms. With an unnecessarily large flourish, Sebastian extinguished the bedside lantern plunging them into darkness. He whispered his modified charm.

Stars small but dazzling began to twinkle into life one by one across the steepled ceiling painting the cosmos across the wooden beams.

It wasn’t nearly as elaborate as the charm in the Hogwarts great hall that had given Sebastian the inspiration. Not quite a replication of the overcast sky outside, but to Sam’s childlike wonder; his father could conjure the heavens in his bedroom. Pluck the stars from the sky so he could sleep bathed in starlight.

For all his folly into the persuits into the darker sides of magic - there was no spell more powerful than the ones that made his children’s life a little more magical.

“Night, Dad.”

***

Undoing the buttons of his shirt Sebastian shucking the material from his shoulders. Wincing as he kneaded at the tight knot that had formed in his neck from too long spent hunched over in his son's small bed. Stretching like a bear ripe from hibernation joints cracking audibly.

His dark brows lifted in alarm as he caught his reflection in the ornate oblong mirror tucked into the corner of their bedroom.

Sebastian had always looked like his father. Same bow to their lips, unruly chestnut hair and soft brown eyes like sodden earth after rain. He could practically divine how his features would change using the brushstrokes of the portrait of his parents that hung proudly on the stairs.

But it was the things that went beyond the superficial that made his parents' old friends stumble on his name and acquaintances double-take in the street as if the dead still walked among them. The determined set of his jaw, the curious glint in his eye. There truly had never been any mistaking exactly who Sebastian’s father was.

But he didn’t just look like his Dad ; he looked like a Dad.

Not that he'd ever been particularly lean . A stockiness to his frame as all Sallow men carried. Violence practically carved into his marrow. Built more for quidditch or boxing, than for scholarly pursuits he'd always been drawn to; but this was getting out of hand.

Sebastian frowned at his reflection. Still strong in the trunk in a way that he never minded, especially not with how it elicited such sinful looks from his wife but he had become notably softer around the middle. What had once been a sparse tuft of hair on his chest he’d taken great pride as a lad, was now thick dark hair trailing down his stomach.

It seemed as unprepared Sebastian had been, stumbling bowlegged and awkwardly into fatherhood, not having nearly enough time with his own to have much to go off; his body had settled far quicker into his new role than he had.

Scratching at the short beard he kept neatly trimmed. Well, for what could pass as neat considering his hair was unruly no matter where it grew. Sebastian twisted and turned, appraising himself from different angles.

When was the last time he'd duelled? Worked up any kind of sweat?

Perhaps he should consider himself lucky he was in the shape he was. Carrying his children upstairs to bed and lugging stacks of heavy stacks of old manuscripts and attifacts charmed against magical interference around the Department of Mysteries hardly counted as exercise. The closest thing anyone would consider vigorous was fucking his wife. But then again holding her small frame against a wall hardly felt like work.

He rotated his joints, and the tendons of muscle in his heavy shoulders flexed under freckled skin. An old puckered scar long faded to white across his shoulder now a mere remnant from his past life. Underneath the soft exterior of the doting father he’d become still lurked the shadow of the hellion youth he’d once been.

Delicate hands slithered around his middle running along the breadth of him stroking at the hair on his chest. Her warm cheek came to rest, nestled between his shoulder blades. Sighing affectionately, her breath tickling his skin. Sebastian leaned into her touch, even after all these years he still felt sparks.

"If you keep scowling your face will get stuck like that,” she chided. Sebastian snorted twisting in her hold to face her. She’d loosened the soft braids she usually wore at her temples so her hair hung loose around her shoulders. She smiled up at him, crooked and his heart stuttered in an unsteady rhythm.

“Alice, go down without any fuss?”

“Has she ever?” She quirked an eyebrow at him far more amused by their daughters' antics than cross. “Caught her trying to get into your study after I put her to bed - again. Luckily she isn’t half as stealthy as she is mischievous.”

Sebastian grinned at her, arching his eyebrows. “She gets that from you.”

“I think Scribner would have disagreed.” She said rolling her eyes. “But something tells me it's not Alice's nocturnal antics causing that face. Tell me what's wrong my love?"

Placing a warm hand against his cheek fingers combing through the hair on his chin. He shifted uncomfortably under the weight of her gaze. Failing to suppress the heat he could feel rising in his cheeks most likely staining the tops of his ears.

"Nothing, Pet. I’m uh-” he hesitated, wincing slightly. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed. And is she hadn't, he was reluctant to point it out. Lest it change the way she looked at him. She was still as radiant the first time he'd laid eyes on her but Sebastian was a far cry from the roguish boy who'd made her heart race.

He leaned heavily into her hand resting against his chin. Letting the tenderness of her touch and softness of her gaze quell the unease. “Just carrying a bit more timber than I'm used to. I hadn’t noticed how much the years had caught up to me. After two kids and all."

"You’ll always be the same stubborn and reckless boy to me," she wrapped her arms around him tighter. It was only a chaste peck but an inexplicable blush darkened her cheeks as she nibbled on the inside of her cheek contemplatively. Her hands grazed along Sebastian’s freckled shoulders, through the sparse hair on his chest nails scratching softly. "But I must admit…I rather like you like this. Broad. Manly.”

" Oh - Do you now?" he smirked. Admiring the flush that had stained her cheeks at her admission.

Seeming to take an unnatural amount of interest in the pattern of their curtains she averted her eyes blushing deeply. "Yes. I do. And don't let it go to your big head.”

Far too late for that. After all these years she should really have known better. His chest already swelling with pride a smug smile pulling at the corner of his freckled cheeks.

Tugging at the sleeve of her pale blue dress. The cotton slipped away to expose more of her skin. Sebastian snaked his hand around her waist to settle on the small of her back. Ducking his head to pepper kisses along the dip of her shoulder.

The faint smell of mallowsweet that always clung to her hair far sweeter than any perfume; a herb balm that had soothed and tamed his stubborn heart. Heat rose where he'd exposed her as Sebastian's mouth worked its way down her neck towards her clavicle. Her fingers pressed a little harder into his flesh feeling the tight coils of muscle that still lurked underneath.

Despite Sebastian's intention of letting his wife thoroughly enjoy the body, she found so desirable. She seemed distracted. Her breathing hitched a little as he grazed his teeth over her delicate throat. Sucking in just a way that would usually drive all the thoughts from her pretty head - that was not the case tonight.

“Besides - it's not like I look the same as I did before Alice and Sam.”

"Mmm, but watching you carry my children is one of life's greatest pleasures. If it's possible - you're more beautiful now than you've ever been.”

“Do you ever think about…”

She trailed off. Mouth opened and closed lamely as she searched for the words her eyebrows furrowed.

“Having another one?”

The high-pitched and uncharacteristically nervous noise of agreement she emitted made Sebastian pause his efforts to adorn her shoulder with dark love bites which were now blooming like wild grapes.

It was rare to see his wife nervous. Even rarer still for her mind to be elsewhere when it came to their marital relations. But he could understand her trepidation; it wasn’t as if either of their children had exactly been planned.

Before either of them were born he often wondered if they should have been parents. Not a single guardian between them to cobble together any semblance of what a parent should be. A trail of lost souls he'd not been able to protect.

Hazy memories of love weren't exactly a blueprint for success.

So Sebastian packed those feelings away even before he'd let them fully bubble to the surface. Resigned perhaps to the fact that although she may have fallen in love with the rough-edged boy he’d been; she'd still bore witness to the worst of him. A dark unsightly stain on his soul he kept cloistered away but they both knew would never leave him. Or her.

And why would either of them want to burden a child with him as their father; or her with his last name? It did not do to dwell on something Sebastian never thought he’d be able to have.

Then one day their world shifted and as willfully unprepared as they’d been for it; so did they.

Alice bloomed in the cracks of space in their lives they hadn’t known something had been missing. But perhaps had always left vacant and wanting for her.

Sam, followed so shortly after. Alice - barely a year old when they’d realised three would quickly become four.

By then, Sebastian had put to rest that gnawing anxiety that told him perhaps they should have never been parents. Fatherhood suited him. Soothed an old ache that had been throbbing since the passing of his own and now he wore it like a familiar coat.

He allowed himself to bask in the elation of their growing family; in a way, he’d not been able to with Alice. Not only taking pride in his wife, who practically glowed more beautiful than he’d ever seen her; but pleasure in watching her stomach swell once again with his child.

So much in fact, he lamented over the missed opportunity for what it would be like to take her with the sole intention of filling her with life. Could practically taste it every time he felt her unravelling on his cock. Dragged his feet at the apothecary when she asked him to purchase extra dandelion root for her monthly brew in the years that followed.

Already Sebastian could feel his blood rushing south at the thought. Inhaling sharply, calming his heart which was now thumping hard against his sternum as that familiar desire pooled.

“I love our family. Alice and Sam, are plenty troublesome and we have our hands full as it is,” he began carefully.

Sebastian cupped her chin, shifting her soft gaze to his. The smile he wore, genuine if a little weak. What he said was true. Sebastian did not wish to burden her with making such a decision simply to satisfy his elicit fantasies. He would not begrudge her if she didn’t want another child after she’d given him so much - more than he’d ever let himself hope for.

But she visibly deflated with his words. “Oh…so you wouldn't want another one?”

“No! I mean- not ‘ no’ . Merlin, it’s quite the opposite. In fact, I think I’ll always want more ,” Sebastian spluttered. Tongue tied and feeling the opportunity slipping through his fingers Sebastian took a breath to right himself. “Neither of us has much in the way of family outside of the one we made for ourselves - each child you give me is the greatest blessing I never thought I’d have. I’d love nothing more than to grow the family that we created.”

“I just want to know you're sure. You don't have to just because I want one.”

“There is nothing within my power that I would not give you. But, trust me love there are other reasons it appeals to me.”

“Oh?”

Hands glided down her spine grabbing the soft curve of her backside. Her eyes widened as he pulled her flush against his body where she could feel the growing bulge press against her stomach. Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, Sebastian ducked his head to nip gently at her earlobe before he whispered.

“Getting to fuck you purely with the intention of filling you with my seed. Watching you swell with another of my children. Breeding you. ” His voice, a low rumble reverberating from deep in his chest. Domineering. Predatory. Every point his body was pressed against hers felt like a fire that ignited a desire that lay dormant inside him. Desperate to claw its way out. Claim her as his - again . "Wearing the evidence under those pretty dresses of yours for everyone to see. So they know exactly what you let me do to you. Who you belong to.”

A visible shiver ran down her spine. Goosebumps prickling across her skin at the filth of his words. Feeling pressed hard against her stomach exactly how much the idea appealed to him.

“Sebastian-”

“Tell me you want it and it’s yours,” he murmured huskily against her neck. Nipping at that spot below her jaw he knew made her knees buckle.

His little witch had never been the obedient sort, as wild and stubborn as a poorly bottled lightning. But after all these years together - Sebastian knew exactly which buttons to push. How to make her laugh so hard her cheeks ached from smiling; a sound so perfect it washed his worries away like a tide. The ones that made rage; burn so fiercely he was reminded she was barely a witch at all but a dragon merely playing at domesticity.

Most favourably to Sebastian were the ones that turned every rational coherent thought in her head into a blinding fog of lust.

He trailed kisses across her skin, her pulse quickening under the tender brush of his lips. An eager whine slipped from her throat. Hips pushing against his in search of friction to soothe the heat pooling in her abdomen.

“Yes- fuck. Please, I want that. Another baby. Your baby.”

The choked sound that clawed its way out of Sebastian’s throat sounded far from anything human. Somewhere between a groan and a growl.

Wasting not a second longer he grasped her hips lifting her swiftly as if she weighed nothing at all. Thighs wrapped tightly around his hips as she moulded into him. Heat radiated from her core barely concealed behind the thin fabric of her undergarment.

Fingers tangling in his hair, she pulled his lips forcefully to hers. Kissing him greedily. Tongue delved between his parted lips as if he were the air she breathed.

From the way she ground her hips insistently, his wife cared little if it drove him to distraction; she knew there was no way Sebastian would let her fall.

Carrying her over to the bed to practically launch her down onto the mattress. Hooded eyes, devoured every inch of her husband standing above her. Her dress dishevelled had ridden up to expose the tops of her thighs which squeezed together in anticipation. Sebastian palmed his hard length through biting hard on his lip to stifle a moan.

Her nimble fingers came quickly to fumble with the buttons of her dress. Sebastian batted her hand away with a grunt to tear into them himself. His mouth trailed kisses further down her body with every inch he exposed.

Stopping as in his journey towards her core to pay particular attention to the soft curve of her belly. She whined under every press of his lips against her stomach squirming impatiently under Sebastian with the need for him to fill the womb he worshipped so reverently.

Sebastian pulled her hips sharply towards the edge of their bed dropping to his knees between her spread legs. Folds already glistening with unrestrained desire. Sebastian ran the tip of his nose through the sparse hairs. The heat of his breath teased against her growing slick. Shivering with anticipation her hips bucked craving - no, needing Sebastian to provide relief to the ache between her legs.

“Sebastian - please,” she whined.

“Impatient,” he scolded. Despite his own clothed erection strained against his trousers twitching desperate to be buried inside his wife’s impossibly tight core. But to Sebastian there no more perfect sight than her laid out before him. Bare, flushed and eyes darkened with desire. A nymph from some Greek tragedy he hadn’t tamed; rather merely a disciple come to worship at her altar. “Such a good girl. Already so wet for me.”

Her fingers tangled harshly in his hair hips bucking as Sebastian at last ended her torment. Licking a broad stripe with the flat of his tongue across her weeping entrance. Her head fell back in a broken whine finally relieving her from her torture. Sebastian released a groan of his own against her folds, lapping more needly at the growing slick. Savouring every drop she offered him. A man lost in a desert and her his bountiful oasis.

He knew her body better than he knew his own. Chasing her keening mewls a wordless plea for more, pleasure only he could offer her as he flicked and curled his tongue against the hooded bundle of nerves. Releasing his grip on her hip to slide his fingers into her tight heat. Savouring how her fluttering walls gripped him as he worked her open with every pump and curl of his fingers.

Her back arched, legs shaking the cool satin sheets scrunched in her fists as she writhed in ecstasy. Clinging desperately to them a last bastion of as she teetered on the edge of oblivion.

He chanced a glance up at her, mouth still servicing her fervently. Their eyes locked her voice caught on a silent plea for release. Sebastian sucked. Devouring her quivering clit and she broke.

Screaming curses and praise to forgotten deities her body jerking to grind frantically against his tongue. Sebastian’s hips rutted forward into nothingness as her body clenching around his fingers as he brought her to climax. His own need growing almost unbearable as he felt her dissolved into pleasure needing to feel that pulsing release around his cock not just his fingers.

His patience was now paper thin, he needed to be inside of her and from the way her fingers tugged at his chestnut hair impatiently as her orgasm ebbed - she seemed to agree.

Bed springs creaked as he crawled onto the bed beside her. He slid his hands along the dip of her waist gripping her soft flesh to flip her onto her stomach.

She peering back at him from over her shoulder. Her lips were swollen, her hair in a wild tangle but her eyes burning into him as if she could set him alight - daring him to take her as she arched her hips up and back towards Sebastian.

Gripping her side he bared down on her. Large body resting heavily against her back she curled up into him sighing contentedly at the feeling of his weight resting against her.

How many wizards had coveted her affection since their school days? Cursed the very ground Sebastian walked on because since the day she’d become his. His cock achingly hard grinding against her arse at the mere thought of her wearing the reminder to them all exactly who she belonged to under her dress.

He scrambled with the buttons on his breeches before pulling them off entirely cock springing free arching proudly and achingly hard. Slit glistening in anticipation that coil inside of him already tightly wound at the mere thought of filling her.

"Going to fuck even more of my kids into you," he purred low in her ear as he settled himself between her legs dragging the head of his cock through her spit-slicked folds. Their nerves practically vibrating with carnal anticipation.

She cried out, broken and rasping as Sebastian finally pressed into her with a strong deliberate thrust. Stretching her open inch by inch groaning low, his head falling against her back when he buried himself inside her to the hilt. The sheen of sweat coating her back salty on his tongue as he mouthed brainlessly at her bare flesh.

“Fuck,” she hissed as Sebastian began to cant his hips in deep maddening strokes. He hadn't expected such a lustful fog to overcome him. Like some primitive part of his brain had overcome him and now he was entirely consumed with the thought of her. Filling her with seed.

His eyes flicked up catching their reflection in the mirror. Sebastian groaned her name as he watched himself pounding into her relentlessly. Tiny body nestled under his own her spine curved in pleasure but her face was buried in the sheets. Stifling the delicious sounds of ecstasy she only made for him into the mattress.

Sebastian grunted in annoyance. Snapping his hips harder she only seemed to bit down harder on the sheets.

He didn’t just want her to feel him filling her with life; he wanted her to bear witness to it.

Tucking his arm around her waist he hauled her up flush against his body. Her yelp of surprise dissolving into a moan as the new angle had her sinking deeper onto his cock. Her back pressed against his chest she rolled her hips, eyelashes fluttering as his crown teased against her sweet spot. Sebastian curled a possessive hand around her throat to keep her upright. The other kneaded her breast, rolling the pert peak between his fingertips.

Despite the utterly filthy position in which he took her. Sebastian’s hands were gentle, large arms cradling her body. He whispered sweet reverent praise and encouragement into her ear with every roll of her as she sought her pleasure.

“Look at you,” he whispered. Pressing a kiss to her temple coaxing her to look and witness how fucking perfect she was. Her eyes cracked open, gaze settling on the mirror in the corner of the room. Sebastian's reflection grinned at her. She blushed deeply at the sight but she made no move to cover herself. Eyes devouring the sight of her bare, legs spread wide and impaled on Sebastian's cock.

“Fucking look at you.” He punctuated the statement with a sharp buck of his hips into her cunt.

She whined desperately with every deep maddening thrust. She leaned back further into his embrace, head tipped back in a wanton moan but she didn't tear her eyes away. As if wishing to burn this moment into her mind. Cunt fluttering greedily around his cock, coaxing more slick onto his shaft.

“Fuck- you're taking me so well. Do you- fuck. Feel how deep I am inside you?” Sebastian groaned at the slight swell of her stomach. He released her breast hand ghosting down the planes of her stomach. “I can feel you clenching around me - fuck . Feel where I'm going to fill you. Where you'll grow our child.”

He barely recognised the cadence of his voice, low gravelly more akin to a growl than anything human. He pressed a little harder onto her stomach. Feeling the head of his cock against his palm, he groaned. Forehead fell against the crook of her neck pumping into his palm as he ground into her with deep thrusts. Gently teasing his thumb over the blunt head through her soft stomach.

She whined readily, shivering with pleasure sinking deeper onto his cock with every needy roll of her hips. Blood pounding in his ears Sebastian could feel the pressure mounting. He released his hold on her throat, taking hold of her hips so hard he knew even if his seed did not take her skin would still wear the marks for days.

Leaning back so she could rest against him, his toes curling in the sheets as he found purchase to thrust into her frantic. Her arm wrapped around his neck keening and whimpering with every strong thrust.

“Please Seb- fuck. I need,” she rasped. Too deliriously close to the edge to tell him what she needed. What they both craved so desperately.

“Tell me what you want, darling,” he grunted. Peppering kisses behind her ear, along the curve of her jaw. “Do you want me to come deep inside you? Breed you? Make you mine again?”

“Yes. Gods. Yes!”

“Tell- tell me,” he grunted. Clutching her hips to pound up into her brutally. The coil inside of him tightened, feeling his release rushing in. Visions narrowing and cock twitching eagerly. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“I-I want your seed. Your baby. You. Please, Seb- fuck,” she cried out.

Deft fingers found her clit. Still so sensitive from how he’d already made her quake. Sebastian circled the swollen nub and her head tipped back in a husky moan. Grinding her hips against him, Glistening with a thin sheen of sweat everywhere their bodies were intertwined.

“You're going to look so perfect. So bloody beautiful carrying our child. My child.”

She gasped as that familiar feeling pooled in her core. “Fuck- Seb please. I'm close.”

“Fuck I can feel you. So tight - around my cock. Let go for me, my love. And I will ah - for you,” Sebastian groaned into the shell of her ear.

Despite his vision blurring as Sebastian teetered so close to the edge of nirvana, he couldn't tear his eyes from their reflection. He doubted there was a more mesmerising and all-consuming sight than watching her come completely undone. Head tipped back all words stolen by how expertly he fucked her so a tune to her body. Beads of sweat clung to every curve and dip on her.

Shimmering. Beautiful. His .

Teasing faster circles over her still-swollen clit. Bucking into her hard and faster. Biting down on his lip so hard he tasted the metallic tang of blood on his tongue as he desperately held back his release. A final uneven snap of his hips burying his cock deep inside her climax broke.

She cried out suddenly; a clap of thunder announcing a storm. Like the heavens split apart and she submitted to drown in the waves of her pleasure. Nails clawing against his shoulder. Cunt tightened and spasmed as she sucked him in impossibly deeper as Sebastian followed her. Pulling her hips down as her came hard.

Her name and filthy praise erupted from his lips in a sound he could only liken to a primal whine. Spilling his seed hot and purposeful into the deepest part of her channel. Grinding against her arse, Sebastian milked every last drop from his pulsing cock.

Willing it to take root.

Her body slumped against him boneless but every nerve alight and still shivering from the last throws of pleasure as her orgasm ebbed. Rasping in broken pants as she tried to recapture her stolen breath.

He kissed her cheek, tender, lovingly and with as much gentleness as Sebastian could muster with how he practically rattled with how hard his heart was hammering against his ribs; he shifted strong arms guiding her onto her side. Cock still sheathed inside of her. Unwilling to remove himself from her his mind still overcome and entirely consumed with the need to fill her with life.

Sebastian pushed his release deeper inside her with shallow thrusts. She whimpered hips bucking away from the overstimulation of the motion. He peppered soft apologetic kisses across the small bruises beginning to bloom around her throat wrapping his arms around her and cradling her body to him tighter. But Sebastian held firm. Hand pressing against her stomach a silent prayer. Willing his seed to take.

"I love you. You're going to look so beautiful. Full of my baby," he cooed, with a languid roll of his hips. Tucking her a sweaty lock of tangled hair behind her ear. She sighed, angling her face to meet his gaze. Dishevelled. Swollen lipped. Beautiful. Her soft crooked and familiar yet it still takes his breath away.

He'd once thought the greatest thing he could do was burn the world for her. But now he knew - It was to build one.

A life. A legacy. One that they forged and fought for together. Everything, as long as it was with her.

Despite his efforts to keep her full of him, he could already feel it leaking out around his shaft, hot and slick, coating her thighs. The crown of his cock dragged over her sweet spot before pushing his further in. “In fact - why stop at one this time? Twins do run in my family.”

“I don't think that's how it works-” she stuttered. But her core clenched greedily around his cock. Still stiff and firmly inside of her, it twitched with approval.

“Care to test the theory?”

#i headcannon dadbod seb so hard #daddy!seb #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow smut

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fangsandfeels · 1 year ago

Text

The vagueness of Astarion sleeping mechanics drives me mad sometimes

So, the game says that elves don't sleep - to the point where it's ironically stated that the only way for them to experience sleeping is to either drink a potion of Angelic Slumber or "get hit really hard with a chair".

Instead, they enter a semi-aware meditative state (Revery) where they experience memories from their past lives (usually most positive and emotional parts). Or they just sorting through their current memories.

Now, we've seen Astarion meditating if his way of lying on a bedroll is anything to go by. He is also immune to sleeping spells. We could also see him sleeping (in a Durge run). I know that devs technically recycle the same sleeping pose for all romanced companions, but still. Also, Astarion has nightmares, which is not typical for elves.

Of course, when I was going through the lore, I scratched the surface, but from what I understood, Revery is supposed to be a controlled state, and nightmares aren't exactly controlled.

But, I've found a very interesting bit that (so far) is still considered part of the official canon:

Elves can sleep and dream just like any human, but almost all surface elves avoid doing so. Dreams, as humans know them, are strange and confusing to elves. Unlike the actual memories of one’s primal soul, present life, or past lives, dreams are uncontrolled products of the subconscious, and perhaps the subconscious minds of those past lives or primal souls as well. An elf who dreams must always wonder whose mind these thoughts first arose from, and why. Priests of Sehanine Moonbow are an exception: they sleep and dream to receive signs from their god, and elves consult such priests to interpret their own dreams."

From: Mordenkainrn's Tome Of Foes, Chapter 2: Elves

And not only does this little bit explain a lot, but it also provides some food for your fic writing purposes.

Now, I'm entering the headcanon territory, so be warned.

Astarion's access to Revery got horribly fucked up after he had been Turned. Not only does he no longer have access to his previous lives since he is technically dead and plucked from the cycle, but he also can't even have his happy or good memories before he became a spawn. Even if they are still there, somewhere in the memory palace, getting to them requires going through the catalog of traumatic and painful memories he acquired after being enslaved by Cazador. It's like running through a burning house trying to rescue your family photo - and the hall gets longer each time. So, entering a trance means confronting the worst memories of his life over and over because there is nothing else there.

Due to this Astarion may resort to sleeping, which elves don't usually do. Elves don't like dreams because dreams are subconscious, and they can't be controlled, which scares them. For Astarion, however, it means there is a chance of him subconsciously dreaming of something nice or just being blissfully empty. However, it doesn't safeguard him from nightmares which (because they are the product of his unconsciousness) get even more twisted than simple memories.

Additionally, there can be a possibility that after becoming a spawn he got cut off from meditation and trances completely, relying on sleeping only: at least, the cut spawn epilogue by Withers mentions how while Astarion needs to sleep again, he doesn't sleep alone. While we don't know what that means exactly (and whether it will ever be implemented in the game), I assume that the tadpole gave him the ability to meditate back, but it was a small improvement because his memory headspace no longer holds happy memories capable of offering solace or refuge.

So, my personal headcanon is that he switches between meditating and sleeping depending on how aware he needs to be, and whatever option feels less torturous at the moment.

For instance, in his Origin run, when he remembers the moment of Cazador carving scars into him, he is in a trance. Which is why the memory is so horribly vivid, as if he is reliving it anew.

However, when he has a nightmare where Cazador finds him, he is sleeping and experiencing a memory affected by his subconsciousness. Which is why he jolts himself awake and desperate to know the limits of his freedom.

So, yes, the man literally can't catch a break.

On a happier note (and for your hurt/comfort fanfiction purposes), once Astarion starts traveling with Tav and the group, his memory bank gets updated with memories that are actually fun and nice, so he has something to linger upon when he is meditating. Sleeping gradually becomes a bit more pleasant experience because his subconsciousness got more material to work with, so the quality of his non-controlled dreams has to gradually improve.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion brainrot #dnd elves are strange #feel free to correct me if i goofed up #because it's quite likely i goofed up

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sandflakedraws · 2 years ago

Text

✨The Touch of Sunlight Comic Book✨

This short romance is an enchanting tale of warmth, choice, and of breaking bonds.

🌑🌘🌗🌖🌕🌔🌓🌒🌑

Our story begins with Nulo, a night-bound fae who emerges from a well every full moon to grant wishes. They withstand the solitude by the short contact they have with their guests, and the trinket each leaves behind for a brief moment. But what should happen, when a guest wishes for something they don't even understand? What does it mean, when she says she wants to know… how are they?

🌑🌘🌗🌖🌕🌔🌓🌒🌑

Newcomers to this tale, you're in luck! If you want to see what emotions are in store for you, you can read it in full, in its premiere Webtoon form right here.

-----------------------------

At last, we are live!!! This project marks my entry into offering standalone, physical merch. If you've ever wanted to have some of my art in your hands, here's your chance~ Alongside the book itself, there will prints and stickers. And if we meet the stretch goals, even more!

There is also a special tier where you can receive a little traditional doodle I'd make with copic markers, but be aware that those are first come, first serve.

That said, I've added a lot more to the kickstarter version to make it sing like:

50+ additional panels 📝

small emotional sequences 💖

A nine page epilogue for those who wanted a little more touch in the touch of sunlight 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

If all goes well, I'm hoping that this kickstarter will help me get my footing to start making comics full time, something that I've always, always wanted to do.

If you have read this far, Thank You. It means a lot for this even to be seen, and I'm truly grateful for any and all support. That's a form of sunlight all on it's own to me.

-----------------------------

The campaign will run from April 28th to May 28th!

#kickstarter #comic #webtoon #fundraiser #the touch of sunlight #sandflakedrew #feel free to reblog this just for japes! for the bit! the shenaniganry of it all!!#all notes and boosts are immensely appreciated i Promise #i am but one small bean doing my best

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zoropookie · 2 months ago

Text

SWEET MELODY

☆ epilogue || there are weirder ways to learn about each other (🎂)

Admittedly, reading that text, you fumbled your phone remembering the short time limit.

Your pulse quickened as soon as you did, though. And instead of acknowledging the prevalent gong that struck in your chest, you knew by just a glance of the clock and the blaring concession that you were still in your pajamas after getting home that you were pretty much screwed.

The message glared at you bluntly. You scrambled to your feet with the finesse and charm of a terrified deer. Clothes, socks, shoes, for some reason while you were searching for everything you were wearing, they didn't fit as snugly as before. You were also putting them on entirely wrong, in theory too, but you weren't thinking about that too much at the moment. Everything you did need was scattered in complete disarray, and your brain continued to move too fast to remember where you even left anything in the first place.

You hissed in mild defeat, dropping to your knees to snatch just the plain sweater you were wearing and hiding your pajama shirt that said 'Certified Almond Lover' on the front.

A strangled laugh escaped you, half-amusement, half-panic that this was happening again. You were getting deja vu despite not having lived through this for the absolute longest time, and for some reason, it flooded your soul with an intoxicating, more interesting rush of life. A torrent of the evocations you had yet to revisit now that you brought the memorabilia to the front of the house and cleaned up everything else.

By the time you burst outside, his car was already in the driveway, where he stood there, scrolling through his phone in the frosting air. Even standing in place, he seemed so unbothered, the biting winter failing to even faze him. A dark scarf loose around his neck as his strands of hair brushed over his cheeks in the light gales. The sheer image of him was making the mess of your chest come to a complete stop.

Your breath was puffing out the chills of the atmosphere by the time you bolted down the front steps, the sight of your ex-boyfriend giving you a different type of chills. His head slowly moved up towards you once aware of a peep, clutching the phone in his hand for a minute, sucking in his cheek.

"Cutting it close, huh?" He asked, his timbre questionably calm and his expression unreadable but for the glistering mirth in his expression, eyes sizing you up for the first time in a while, taking in your, to some degree, untidy appearance. "Did you forget?"

You started toying with the bottom half of your sweater, intentionally oversized as you avoided locking gazes with him. "I...may have lost track of time."

"Mmhm," he replied, clearly unconvinced. He noncommittally slipped his phone in his pocket and took a slow inhale and exhale. "After giving you an hour and a half, I would have thought you'd at least have the thought not to show yourself out in Satoru Gojo pajama pants. In the snow."

Your hands spontaneously flew down to your sweater as you attempted to pull the sweater over your sleepwear, you yanked it further with a small heat crawling up your neck and to your ears. "I...I wasn't planning on you showing up until you were ready. Who knew that you would be ready...right now? I got distracted!"

"Yeah? By what?" He asked, and while his tone wasn't accusatory, it was in the same energy, curious. Unfastened and disconnected in the way that made you feel twelve times more ridiculous.

"Cleaning..?" You sputtered impulsively, looking away.

"Cleaning." He echoed flatly.

Your lips opened and closed like you were trying to find a better excuse, but the actual truth was lingering on the tip of your tongue and fizzling out constantly, not even deniable to how you actually felt. Tidying up wasn't an excuse, rather than a genuine way to cope with you not really feeling like you knew how to distract yourself from the growing bow in your chest. "Too far-fetched?" You asked, a small laugh in the place of inopportune.

He was in a intricate contradiction, whittled, but aerially tender. The turn of his jaw was defined, in a soft capture of your molten irises, it was kind of holding him captive. Staring at you with a vehemence that was on the verge of insufferable. Endless expanse of his contemplations and the feeling billowing beneath the surface. It wasn't loud, or crystal clear; no, it was the kind of typhoon you felt seeing him again at Ei's house for the first time.

Drawing you in again, his lashes were dark and fine, firming his optics with a featheriness belying their polish. Like glass, impossible to ignore after a cut, his lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but it was with hesitant composure. "I'm leaving."

Your shoulders dropped at him, disappointed that this was the news he decided to bring along to your house, but you didn't falter this time. Your heart skipped a beat, not having much of a useful answer right away. At least, not one you wanted to say aloud. "So I've heard," you sighed, breaking eye contact again. "You didn't have to visit. I know you're busy."

His hands disappeared in his coat pockets once he started discerning the frigidness. His breath was visible between you two as he scoffed. "We're past being selfless.” He muttered, but there was no real heat in his voice. If anything, he sounded tired.

“Well, calling sounds a lot better when you’re under pressure, and a tour sounds like a hard swallow.” You swallowed hard and thick, voice quieter now. “I don’t want you to do any catering, you know what you need to do, and so do I.”

"I wanted to see you.” He snarked half-heartedly.

Your stomach twisted, it was the simplicity of his words that got you, and you forced another shaky laugh to ebb the rest of your tenseness. “Okay…” You said, a lot more disjointed than intended.

He leaned in slowly, the change in his stance creating flimsiness within the distance. He carefully dismantled it, his existence alone was pressing into you, pulling you into an ellipse without ever laying a finger on you. His face hovered closer, head tipping slightly to memorize you, study your new movements and practices now that you were…unfamiliar.

“Okay?” His voice was low, pulling you much like the sinewy drifts you felt in your stomach. Faint scent of his light trace, testing the heft of his words with a lace.

While your gaze darts away involuntarily consistent, Kuni didn’t let you escape so easily. He moved nearer to you, chin aslant downwards, chasing your expression with little purpose other than to get some sort of rise out of you.

As a small and teasing smile graced his lips, the sound of your own pulse was beating in his ears as you slowly lifted your eyes back to his. It was near impossible to ignore him like this— the same person who you were entirely head over heels for. And in a sense, you felt like you still were.

“There you are.” He said, more elated while his voice remained silent as the neighborhood they lived in. The corner of his lips twitched…from amusement? Frustration? You couldn’t tell. Even if he hadn’t touched you, it felt a lot like he had his hand on your back, comforting it leisurely. It sent mold shivers down your spine, and a leering heat stroke from how bad you were feeling it.

You bit your lip, “The tour,” you tried to make out, but you were jittery the second you attempted to control yourself. “It’s really tonight?”

He nodded. “Midnight bus.”

You hesitated, your heart dropping to the bottom of your stomach in seconds. It rendered strange to you, even with the current circumstances leading them here. That Kuni would be like this again. “How long?”

Kuni mulled on it, “Three months,” he mulled, tone even. “It depends on how well it goes.”

There was no problem waiting an entire three months to do something, you were usually used to that prospect anyway considering you owned a business at one point, but there was something extremely agitating about this trial of patience in particular.

You couldn’t control it, nor put it to an immediate stop. You were forced to bear the burden of realizing you couldn’t hold back change no matter what you did. Even if it was fluid enough to come back. “You’ll come back, right?” You glanced down at your hands, fidgeting with the sleeves on your sweater.

Almost as if scrutinizing you in silence, he gave way to something gentler in comparison to his usual approach. You didn’t necessarily feel like you were standing on the edge of prejudice these days with him, “I always do.”

Nearing silence was not spoken for, but it wasn’t awkward nor painful to sit in with him this time around. It said words that neither of you could even fathom about yourselves, about the times that have passed. Your chest tightened in expectation still, and you stiffened. “Did you come by just to say that you’d miss me?” Your eyes lit up.

He leaned back ever so slightly, his breath was seeable in comparison to how he was again. He tilted his head just enough for his hair to shift against the angles of his face. His exterior a crack in marble, only showing its light in the right position. “Did you get the message, or did you want to wring it out of me?”

The fervor in your face increased, and you were left to simply say something incoherent under your breath. “I’ll miss you too.”

He caught the sound, but instead of poking at your father, the moment settled. His snarky visibility settling to something soundless, off the record. He wandered over your mannerisms again, your bitten lip, subtle line of tension on your brow, your lips together like they were trying hard to hold something back.

Even if it was just to live vicariously here for one last moment before he was suffering at consistent demands, he considered it worth the time and effort these days. A bigger change than he realized, and all you could do in comeback was twist the fabric of your sweater in bunches under your fingers while attempting to even your breathing.

There was no more shortness of the distance, because it was hardly there anymore. The gap had simmered away, leaving your breath to hitch again after regaining it, stopping mere inches from you. He looked at you again, with that same unafraid look. The look he carried with him while he was telling you off, and the look he’s keep with him now that he was leaving you for a while. His expression reverent, and like a precious gem.

His hands lifted slowly from his sides as the faint hesitation in his motion caught him by surprise. Your cold cheeks were replaced by the somewhat warmth of his touch, his thumb brushed slightly beneath your cheekbone, the metal ring grazing softly on your skin. You leaned into his touch like clockwork, featherlight and stopping every now and then, you were too nervous to look into his eyes even if something was entrancing about it.

He was sure again, with a more dainty unsureness nestled in him. “Is this okay?” He asked, but quiet enough that only you could hear.

You swallowed all the words you were going to say, what you were supposed to now that he wouldn’t be here long. “Yes,” Your voice tremors.

His lips twitched in the smallest guise of a smile. His hands now a ghost of a presence and you were forced to feel the shivers on your spine move up, creating goosebumps like no other. He leaned into slowly, taking your lips in his again. This time, the earth was holding its breath in anticipation, just as you were.

Kuni’s lips were soft, even when there was a determinedness to the way he kissed you. Like he had something else to prove to you that wasn’t just his proudness speaking in his ear. It mattered to him, anyway, it was why his hands never left, it’s why his kisses started to deepen with every retract. A press of his presence, grounding you, setting in your racing heart like the sweetest melody.

Not hurried, nor urgent, just consuming you all the same.

Lips brushing on you, your head in a flurry that was similar to the whisper of winter’s first snowfall. He was merciful, forbearing, fleeting with every second that you took for granted. Time was stretching impossibly long between the two of you, and you were almost at peace to say that this was something you wished you felt again. The adorations of his feathering pecks, he wasn’t afraid to kiss you, but he was yearning.

Love to you was a lot like feeling yearned for. That’s all you ever knew, and it was a feeling you wished many had the pleasure of growing fond of. The feeling making you want to jump into the air in a burst of energy, the lingering patience of your ex-lover remaining in your palm, and you savored it.

When he finally pulled back, a part of Kunikuzushi Raiden didn’t want to let the harrowing future take hold. Drawing back meant he had to leave right now, lips hovering close in a contemplating to keep going, ignoring a schedule. He stood there, memorizing that feeling.

You let him, and instead of embarrassing him once he removed himself from you, watching his eyes flick back open to see your beaming expression, you quietly rubbed at your arm. “I didn’t like that one either.” You broke the silence with a small and unserious utterance, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, it kind of sucked.”

previous ☆ masterlist

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

taglist ☆ — @seternic @chemiru @coquettemaiden @1kio0o @emiixuu

@agaygothicmushroom @yomishen @jingyuan-wife-real @toruscorpse @whoooismkeee

@sketcheeee @st4r4ngel @xionri @scaradooche @lightyagamifan

@pwushizz @alatusorrow @eutopiastar @magica-ren @slu7

@vaxmpi @theyluvkatt @kyon-cherri @suzydarling @mimi3lover

@auroratumbles @heusalettle @yourfavoritefreakyhan @kunimylovee

@czerwka @little-honey-the-third @featuredtofu @simonisferal @peachystea

@liuaneee @skyoverkill1 @mellowberrie @lalalaloveallmydays @mostlymoth

@mtndewbajablasted @vernith @lovekeychains @danhenglovebot @elizshade

@balladeersflower @kazumiku @bananasquash @neversore @yevurin

@franaby @vicslz @kamiboo @thegalaxyisunfolding @morgyyyyyyy

@feikyuu @tamikahoshiko @kissingkzuha @bbysatoruuu @rvoulte

@kinvasion @kukikoooo @adriannauodi @pumpkincitrus @usagiarchive

@eunseok-s @state-of-grac3 @ariesloves @trulyylee @lyzeivr

@suniika @animeobsessed56 @kamisstufff @samyayaya @scarawiki

@mywillt0live @lxkeeeee @sundays-prince @imnotyizhuo @js-a-silly-little-guy

@dontmindtheevie @mywillt0live @gl00muraaii

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cosmos-coma · 1 year ago

Text

My Sun, My Star- Part 2

A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for your great comments on part one. I couldn't have asked for a better crowd to receive my work! Because so many people asked for it I've finally written a part 2! I honestly can't tell how good it is any more cause I've probably read it through 12 times in the last two days lol, so enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 7476 (whoops)

Warnings: Pregnant reader, Otherwise GN reader (no pronouns), Occasional use of "Y/n", Injury, Bucky's kind of an ass when hes upset (but redeemable), arguing.

Summary: Bucky finds out that you met the Winter Soldier and he is Not happy.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

Like what I do? buy me a Coffee!

________

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, rough and gritty from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled as you lowered your hand from your face “Bucky...?”

He looked tired, so so tired. What was once sweet blue eyes were now diluted with exhaustion, no longer the brisk gaze you had learned to find comfort in. But still, a smile of relief eased onto your features at the mere sight of him and slowly the spark in his eyes began to return.

“Bucky!” You rushed to the thick door separating you, your hands eagerly jiggling the locked knob as you tried to get in. All you wanted to do was hold him, to hold his face, his hands; you wanted to feel and squeeze all of him just to know that he was truly back.

“Sheesh, hold on!” Tony complained, “At least let us take the wiring off first, we can’t have you coming in and messing up- hey! HEY, stop smudging the glass!” Tony shouted as he worked quickly to detach the wires of various machines from his head.

Bucky laughed a bit as he sat up carefully, rolling the pain out of his shoulders and arms when something didn’t feel right. He winced as he felt his soft shoulder complain against the movements and looking over he spotted the bandage taped tight to his skin- a small dot of blood peeking through the solid white; before he could ask about it Tony was already sending a technician to unlock the door.

“Alright, alright, we’re opening the door, stop your jiggling…” the billionaire griped.

As soon as you saw your opening you ran straight for him, your leg be damned as you stumbled into his waiting arms, “Bucky, my heart...” you whispered with relief as you hugged him as close as you possibly could. It was times like these when you cursed your body’s rotund transformation as it refused to let you get that much closer to him. But none of it mattered as his strong arms wrapped around you in turn, flooding you with the familiar scent and warmth of his amber-like musk.

“Hey, Doll…” The super soldier rasped softly in your ear, his voice still a little rough from the muffled shouts of pain just minutes before. His brow tightened and he held in a wince at the impact of your hug, refusing to let you see him falter as pain jolted his shoulder.

“What are you still doing up?” he asked with a smile, the roughness finally easing away and slipping back into the smooth rumble of his natural voice. His eyes trailed down your face and body, stopping abruptly at the bandage wrapped around your calf. He frowned as his brows creased together uneasily, “What happened to your leg? Who-” he started to ask, but before he had a chance to finish Tony interrupted with his usual reminders.

“Alright, I’m sure you remember-” He paused a moment, shrugging, “well, maybe- that although you may not remember anything now, it should all come back over time,” Tony said as he typed updates into Bucky’s file. “Given that this wasn’t a very long recession- just a few hours- you should remember everything in a couple of days,” he decided with a firm nod, looking over to the disheveled man. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

Bucky shook his head, “I remember the basement and the flashing lights…I remember following Sam back out to the jet, but it starts getting fuzzy there,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. His mind was exhausted from switching back and forth and he really didn’t have the energy to delve into it much longer. “I think I remember coming back to the tower, but it’s not clear.”

“Hm, Interesting,” Tony remarked as he typed in a few more long lines into the already lengthy files. Bucky couldn’t quite make out the words on the pages and pages of information on himself and the Winter Soldier, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway.

“Well,” continued Tony, looking at you now, “seeing as I’ve heard that your front door is in a state of disrepair-”

“-Kicked in,” you corrected swiftly, making Bucky’s concern rise.

“Semantics, ” Tony disregarded with a wave of his hand, “-you two are welcome to stay in the tower until we get it fixed. Barnes’ old room is still open; I trust you two remember the way there?”

----

You stepped into Bucky’s old room, a few personal items still scattered around here and there, but barely anything significant. Strong arms snaked around your waist, careful of your belly as they pulled you close against their firm frame.

Soft laughter bubbled from your chest as you gazed up at him, your head leaning back against his solid build, “Just like old times, huh?” You mumbled happily as you rubbed your hand up and down his forearms.

“Mmm, back when I used to sneak you into the tower every other night?” his body rumbled with a gentle laugh, remembering the fond moments. The two of you lingered in the peaceful space for a moment, both of you happy to have finally put the stress of the past few hours behind you. Large hands smoothed down your rounded belly, inching the fabric of his sweatshirt up so he could feel his little girl properly.

You hummed softly, contentment easing into your every pore as you let out a big yawn. You were finally feeling the full weight of the day and you wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the small mattress. You pulled back, bringing his knuckles up for a quick kiss as you stepped away, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’m beat…we both are,” you said with a gentle pat to your belly.

Bucky nodded as he watched you leave his arms, your gait just slightly uneven as you tried to hide the extent of your limp, “Doll…” he called, causing you to glance back.

“You never answered me earlier. What happened to your leg? And what did Stark mean by our door being broken in…?” he asked, watching closely as you stood with your back to him. Your shoulders tensed the slightest bit as he asked, your gaze turning away as you searched desperately for the right way to tell him.

“I… It was an accident….” you said, trying to ease him into it as you started explaining from the beginning “I was at home in bed when-” You started, but he had already begun connecting the dots. The basement, the blood, the lapse in memory, only to finally find himself awake in Tony’s lab? It was all too familiar.

“You met him, didn’t you?” He asks quietly, “The Winter Soldier….” The room went silent as you hesitated to answer, only the tremble of your beating heart to be heard in your ears, but it was all the reply he needed.

He could feel the growing heat of anger simmer beneath his skin. He had failed you- he couldn’t frame it in any other way. He had tried so hard for so many years to keep you from meeting him, to keep you safe, and now- in your most vulnerable state- he had failed. Deep in his heart, he knew he was only angry with himself, but knowing it still didn’t seem to stop the way his words bubbled over and burned, “Why didn’t you tell me? Did he do this to you?” He pointed at your bandage, his anger was simmering into a rolling boil when it suddenly crashed into an icy panic.

“Shit, did he-” He gulped and continued with the faintest shuddering his breath, “Did he try to…? ” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought too scary to speak into existence as his hand fell to your bump in worry. As an assassin his targets had always been adults in the past; would the Winter Soldier really target a child? Bucky couldn’t say for certain either way and that was enough for him to worry.

“What...? Bucky, no. He would never-“

“Do not tell me what he would and would not do, Y/n,” he seethed, using your name for the first time in what felt like forever. You had always been his doll….

“You think I don’t know the things he’ll do? You think I don’t see them again and again at night? No one is an exception to him, not even you-“

“But I-“

“And if you truly believe that-” his voice grew lower, his anger coming out in slicing breaths as he spoke, “-then maybe you’re not as smart as you let people believe you are….”

You suck in a sharp breath as his last words hit you. You felt like a bucket of ice was thrown directly over your head and your brain reeled as it tried to make sense of it all. ‘Did he… did he really just say what I think he said?’ you questioned, but your brain just played those thorn-covered words on repeat, rubbing the truth into your open wounds. You tried not to take them to heart, you knew it had been a long day for the both of you, but how could you not?

You took a shuddering breath as you looked down, tears welling in your eyes that you willed him not to see. You were too tired for this.

“Y/n..” he sighed as he watched you wordlessly gather his old clothes, long forgotten in the drawers from when he first moved in with you all that time ago. “Y/n, Where are you going? Come back here…”

“I’m going to find another room.” You explained simply, forcing calmness into your tone, but you still couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Doll, I’m sorry-”

“No.” You said firmly, causing him to raise his eyebrows a bit as slowly you turned to face him, “I'm far too tired for this tonight, James. it’s been a long night, we’re both in pain, and you obviously need some time to cool down, because the Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,” You struggled to hold in your venom as you harshed out those last words, “Goodnight, Bucky.”

You let the welled-up tears finally break free as the door clicked closed behind you. Sniffling back the onslaught you wiped away your tears to peek around the hall, eventually settling on the room just across from his. “FRIDAY? Open up the door to room 7 please…” you asked, relieved when she did exactly as you asked- you’d have to thank Tony for that later.

“Shit,” Bucky sighed into the empty room, now far too quiet for his liking. He always did everything he could hold to keep his anger in check with you, and it had been easy for the most part. Loving you had always come easy to him, and so he rarely had anything to be upset about. But this? This was new for him…. everything the Winter Soldier did was a means to an end. He was a deceiver, it was programmed into him over the decades and he couldn’t bear to let you fall prey to his games too.

Sleep eluded you for a while as you tossed and turned. You weren’t used to sleeping without him by your side, especially when you knew he was just a step and a knock away. But eventually, through your exhaustion, sleep finally came and you dreamed about your star that very night.

You dreamed of his eyes. Those intense blues that had rattled you so unexpectedly just hours ago. You were sure Bucky was wrong. Those eyes didn’t hold malice when they looked at you. No, they held knowing, like he had finally figured out a piece of himself. As if he had finally seen an aspect of what he could- no, what he would be.

You also dreamed of his smile. As awkward and unpracticed as it was you still loved it. It was nowhere near as bright as Bucky’s, but it held reverence for you all the same.��

You dreamed of the promises he made against your belly. While you couldn’t distinguish the words he had said, you knew exactly what they meant; protection, strength, and the promise to return….

When you finally awoke your heart rang with a pang of guilt. Your dream-state comfort had been that of an assassin, an engineered “weapon”- and your heart’s blood-stained other half…. You sighed as you rubbed the sleep from your face. Was it right to be finding comfort in his icy blues instead of Bucky’s warm ones? Your thoughts fought each other for barely a minute more before you were brought back to the “talk” you and Bucky had yesterday. ‘He wouldn’t even listen to me! And then he’s going to go and call me stupid?! AGH’ you huffed as you slammed your fists down on the bed, your hands bouncing in an unsatisfying manner.

Rolling out of bed, you got changed into Bucky’s old clothes, smoothing down the oversized items as you poked your head out of the room. All was quiet in the hallway and only a couple of distant voices could be heard from the kitchen and living area. Holding your belly you hobbled out, your leg searing with each step as you kept your head on a swivel for a certain super soldier. You weren’t quite ready to talk to him yet, all your frustrations still pumping through your blood in a slow but consistent course, However, your heart still found itself craving his familiar presence.

A fleeting disappointment hung over you when you realized he was nowhere to be found, instead discovering Natasha and Sam as they chatted over breakfast.

“It was.. weird, Nat. I know my interactions with him in the past have been limited, but I’ve never seen him like that before” Sam said and you knew they were talking about last night.

“Hey, you two…” You interrupted, causing them to pause as they watched you enter, but neither seemed uneasy as you butted in.

“Y/N…” Sam greeted with a small smile, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine to get something started for you, “How’s it going? It looks like your leg is still bothering you…”

“Yeah... it’s burning more than last night, ” you rubbed your hand gently over your bandages in an attempt to soothe it, but it only stung more in retaliation. “Ah..” you hissed as you immediately retreated, “Yeah, it’s just a little sensitive….”

“We have some topical anesthetic and fresh bandages in the first aid kit if you want. I can grab them if Sam Is okay finishing off the rest of the pancakes?” the redhead proposed, holding the spatula out to him in an offering.

“Oh?? I, Sam Wilson, get to finish making Natasha’s famous pancakes? What an honor,” He laughed as he feigned his esteemed admiration, taking the spatula and flipping the few already sitting in the pan.

Nat grinned brightly as she made her way down the hall, whispering as she went past, “Truthfully? It’s a box mix. I just add vanilla and nutmeg and they never know the difference.”

You chuckled as you watched her go off to fetch the kit, truly thankful for the break in tension you were already feeling. You hadn’t gotten to know Natasha very well yet, on the off chance you visited the tower she was usually busy with missions, training, or paperwork, yet she welcomed you all the same. Part of you wondered if it was the former assassin in her that let her find friendship in you. After all, if you could love Bucky despite the Winter soldier, then surely you could be her friend despite her past, right?

You took a seat at the island's raised stools, watching Sam as he tried not to let the pancakes overcook. “So, Where is Bucky this morning?” You asked him, trying to be casual as you crossed your arms over the counter, thanking him as he placed a cup of decaf in front of you.

But Sam paused; you always knew where Bucky was, sometimes more than they did at this stage in your pregnancy. He even swore sometimes that you two were attached at the hip. The fact that you didn’t know means something must’ve happened last night after he got reset.

“He joined Steve on his morning run,” he answered as he leaned against the island opposite you, rolling his eyes as he continued, “It’s always ‘on your left…!’ when I run with him. I hope he gives Steve a run for his money this time…” he shook his head and smiled a bit as he watched you, trying to check in, but you just laughed, your face cracking into a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Speaking of your elusive super soldier…” Nat started as she returned, getting straight to the point as both her curiosity and old spy ways got the best of her, ”I heard the infamous Winter Soldier made an appearance last night...” She eyed you as well as she set the first aid kit down.

You tried to keep your smile, but as the conflicting thoughts and feelings of just last night resurfaced it was no time before it slipped away. You frowned at your mug, watching the dark swirls that lingered amongst the cream you added, “He did… he showed up at the house last night unexpectedly.”

Natasha’s frown matched yours as she spoke, “That bad, huh?”

“No, not at all. I mean, besides the almost getting shot part-“ you motioned as you began unwrapping your leg, your gash now open for the world to see. Though It was still a blazing red, it didn’t seem infected and for that you were thankful.

Her eyebrows shot up as she looked over your wound, it was a good-sized graze and a very near miss, “Y/N do we need to have a talk about toxic relationships?”

“What? No, Nat-” You waved her off, trying to get back on track as you began carefully cleaning it, “he’s not the one who shot me.”

You didn’t miss the way Nat’s eyes darted to Sam, surprise written on her face for just a moment before her collected expression came back. “He didn’t? That seems….”

“I told you…He was different last night, he was on the defensive this time.” Sam chimed in, tying back to their earlier conversation that you had interrupted.

You nodded in agreement and continued, “It was the security team that shot me, some new kid. I didn’t recognize his number or his face,” You explained. You couldn’t even be angry at that poor dumb soul either, he more than got what was coming to him. All you could hope for was that he learned something when he was dangling so uselessly in the air.

Sam thought for a moment, back to the bristling frustration he saw written all over Bucky as he left this morning, enough that he worried the Winter Soldier might have made a second appearance. His concerns dissipated when Steve managed to pat the man’s shoulder without receiving an immediate knife to the throat, but now it made him wonder, “Does Bucky know this?”

Your expression softened and you continued to frown as you took a small sip, “No… I tried to talk about it with him last night, but he didn’t want to hear anything after he learned who I met,” you huffed with annoyance, not even bothering to hide it from your two friends.

Sam nodded and held his hand up, “Well, I can’t say much since we only came in on the end, but maybe Bucky would listen to the body cam footage?”

You paused, blinking a few times as you processed what he said, “Body cam footage?” You questioned, setting the roll of bandages down, “What do you mean?”

“The security team is always required to wear body cameras when they go out. They should be reviewing it now,” Natasha explained.

You nearly jumped out of your chair, the pain in your leg the only thing holding you back. This could be it! If he wouldn’t believe your words, then maybe he’d believe his own eyes. Bucky deserved to know what kind of man his other side of him really was; he deserved to know that you loved him wholly, finding comfort in both sides of the coin.

You were determined not to give up on your star, because while Bucky had his friends to back him up, your Soldat had no one. No one, but you.

“Where can I get it?” You rushed to ask, looking back between the two, who in turn exchanged glances with one another.

Natasha took over pancake duty as Sam slid a plate in front of you and said, “It should be available sometime tomorrow, I can let them know you want a copy. Since you were the one caught in the crossfire they shouldn’t have a problem giving you access.”

You nodded quickly, excitement and relief easing into your shoulders as you took your plate, letting out a breath you didn’t you were holding.

This was it.

--------

Bucky’s feet hit the pavement in time with his steady heart, maneuvering past people like boxes in crowded alleyways. He was supposed to be on a run with Steve, but his mind had been wandering the whole time. ‘The Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,’ you had told him, so calm and so even that he honestly wished you had just screamed at him. His legs went into autopilot as your words rattled around his head. You were right, never in his waking minutes would it have ever crossed his mind to say those things to you. He was just so tired, so scared, and to top it all off it seemed like you had completely forgotten his warnings on the Soviet assassin. Or worse- that you purposefully went against them.

“Buck? Bucky!” Steve’s voice finally reached his ears as a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“What? What is it..?” The brunet shook himself from his thoughts as he slowed to a stop, looking back at his friend.

“Where are you going? The tower is this way,” Steve shot a thumb over his shoulder in the opposite direction, the tower in plain view above the surrounding shops.

Bucky stopped, blinking as he tried to process his surroundings. Where was he going? There was nothing in this direction except-

The apartment.

Bucky sighed as he quieted the subtle itch at the back of his mind, “Nothing, nothing. Just lost in my thoughts. I’m here now,” he assured, to which Steve nodded, but obviously did not believe. He was always too smart for his own good.

“Let’s head back to the tower, okay? It’ll be our final mile. We can even stop by the bakery on our way.”

Bucky willed himself to keep his thoughts in line as they ran their last mile, the tension in his body slowly unwinding only as they came to a stop and stepped into the sweet-smelling bakery. His senses were hit with a deluge of warm bread and spices that seemed to quiet his nerves for the time being.

“What can I get for you, sugar?” the older woman behind the counter asked. Her smile was tired as she nursed an old cup of coffee and Bucky assumed she had been there since its opening hours ago.

“Oh, um…” Bucky hummed as he looked through their displays, his heart really wasn’t in it like he wished it was. He was about to step back without getting anything when he spotted a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls coming out of the back. Cinnamon rolls had always been one of your favorite treats and he had rescued many a bad day with a surprise from the bakery. Maybe he could turn this bad day around too.

“Three cinnamon rolls, and three of the blueberry lemon rolls too. Uh, and a black coffee…. Please.” He asked, pulling his wallet out.

“Sounds like you’re having quite the party,” she commented with a little chuckle as she filled up a box with fragrant pastries.

“Ah, almost…I’m trying to make it up to someone,” He admitted sheepishly.

“Hm…” She hummed, looking right through him with practiced eyes, “You want me to throw some heart-shaped sprinkles in there or is that too much?”

A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth, “I think it’s gonna be just right.”

Bucky rehearsed the whole walk back, running his apology through his head dozens and dozens of times until it felt perfect. You still didn’t seem to grasp the level of danger you were in or how lucky you were to get out with just a scratch, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to listen if you were still angry with him. Maybe this would smooth things over enough for him to explain- for him to tell you all the things he did, all the things his hands will forever be stained with.

You knew the gist of it of course. Bucky had made it a point to let you know exactly what had happened to him over those years and exactly what his job as a living weapon was. The last thing he had wanted was for you to resent him for tricking you into loving him. But you deserved to know more, and these gooey pastries going to be his entry point.

Yes. He’d give you the treats, say his well-thought-out apology, and then he could finally explain. Hopefully, then you’d understand.

Well, that was the plan anyway.

As the doors opened up to their desired floor, Bucky could hear you before he even saw you. Your laugh rang like bells as you chatted away with Natasha and Sam, his heart bolstering with hope that your good mood would only make it better as he stepped forward.

“Hey, Do-“ he started before his eyes landed on your leg. It was propped up on the stool beside you as you were obviously in the middle of caring for it. He hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, part of him not wanting to know just how bad it was, but now there was no ignoring it. It was bright red, yelling its ferocity and pain as you tried to air it out. The wound itself was still trying to heal over, its soft vulnerable flesh showing barely any sign of scabbing. Blood stained your old bandage and it all made his stomach twist without mercy.

His mind couldn’t negotiate with him how bad it was anymore. Even though it was just a graze, he could see how painful and uncomfortable it was for you. He had failed you. What if it had just been an inch over? What if it had hit your bump? What if it had hit your heart?

He didn’t even realize he had crushed the flimsy cup in his hands until Steve stepped back, saying something about getting paper towels. Scorching coffee steamed up from his metal hand where it continued to drip into the puddle below it.

You looked over in surprise as you heard the splash, seeing your Bucky standing there with an intensity so adamant that you almost mistook him for someone else. But his eyes aren’t staring at you, per se, but your leg.

“Bucky, It’s okay, really-“ you tried, but he would not hear you; He wouldn’t hear anyone as he dropped his cup, the loud clattering in the quiet room almost more jarring than anything he could have said back. “Buck. Bucky, wait-!” but he was already walking away, forcing his gaze ahead as he passed by you like a ghost.

You tried to reach out, to grab his sleeve, but he slipped right through your fingers.

“Barnes, come on…” Natasha gently scolded, but he still refused to react.

You blinked back your shock, willing the threat of tears to subside when you heard the loud thud of his door closing behind him. You let out a shuddering breath, your hands rubbing down your face and you wondered just how long this was going to last.

After taking a few minutes to re-wrap your leg, hoping maybe he had cooled down once more you made your way down the hall. “Hm?” You mused wordlessly as you saw the small white box placed on the ground before your door. Being careful of your protruding bump, you squatted down- earning a small kick of protest- and lifted up the lid.

‘Cinnamon rolls… my favorite. And he even got us a special flavor…. ‘

With utmost care, you closed the box again and turned to face his door. “Bucky? My heart…?” You tried as you knocked on his door, putting your ear against it as you listened in.

Silence.

You tried again, louder this time, “Bucky, are you in there...?” But were again met with nothing. Was he really ignoring you now? “Please, can we just talk?”

Quiet.

Your skin couldn’t help but burn as you tried to hold in your frustration. ‘So now he doesn’t want to talk to me? What did I even do?!’ You thought as you dug your nails into your palms, using the sharp pain to ground you once more.

With a deep breath, you turned, picked up the white box, and left him to his begotten silence.

---------

Bucky’s ears were deaf to your calls as the shower rained over him, washing off the coffee and grime of the whole morning. His breath broke through the steam as he sighed, dipping his head under the rush of scorching water as if it would wash away his worries too; It almost worked until a searing headache made itself known.

The pain rippled in violent waves that came out of nowhere, consuming him suddenly and causing him to reach out blindly for the support of the slick wall. It was worse than getting kicked straight in the head, but he knew from experience that fighting it would only make it hurt more.

Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he made the perfect dark theater as flashes and snippets of memories played behind his eyes.

“Bucky…?” A vibrant grin spread across your lips, lighting up the room brighter than the phone on your bedside table. Someone was calling you, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away and the more he watched, the more your face changed.

Your eyes squinted as you looked deeper into him and for a moment he could swear you saw the heavy weight of loneliness that ached in his chest. He felt the coldness of his expression, emotionless and lifeless save for the way his brows knit together, eyes searching yours with confusion and… wanting? Your brows knit together, almost a reflection of himself he thought, as you seemed to consider who you looked at.

He could feel the smooth cold weight of the knife in his hand as he took a step closer, his head shaking slowly.

Then suddenly your gaze took on a horrified expression, your eyes darting to the phone to see who was calling.

“Soldat…” You whispered. You tried to steel yourself, but he heard the way your nervous voice shook- he saw the way your pulse thrummed rapidly in your neck. As the phone went dark he took another step- quiet, so as not to send you running.

Your phone buzzed again, lighting up the room once more as he stood above you now and you looked so scared, but his expression did not change. Did he feel anything as he saw your cowering form below him? Or was he just another husk of a weapon? Could he ever be anything more?

He glanced at the phone; his time with you had been interrupted again- your attention was drawn from him again. And he couldn’t have that. A low growl rumbled from his chest as you tried to reach for it, and immediately you recoiled again. He would take care of this. He would take care of you.

Wordlessly he declined the call and left you in darkness again. While his knife slipped away, his metal hand reached out. Something in him called desperately to feel your skin beneath cool unforgiving metal. He needed to see all the ways your soft scared body reacted under his touch.

He would take care of you.

“Please… Just don’t hurt her..” you begged.

Bucky sucked in desperate breaths as the memories of just yesterday finally faded. The headache lingered, but it was nothing compared to the incessant twisting of his heart in his chest.

What did he do to you…?

-----

You found solace in the quiet of your room after Bucky refused to answer the door, wrapping yourself in the comfort of your duvet rather than his arms. You sighed, looking about the empty room as you leaned your head against the armchair you sat in. “Hey there, baby…” you cooed quietly to your belly, your words immediately met with excited kicks. “Enjoying the rolls as much as I am?” you laughed a bit as you took another bite of your pastry.

You were lost in the one-sided conversation between you and your belly when a knock came at your door. You furrowed your brow as you sat up a bit wondering who it could be, only to sigh and lean back again, “Nat, I’m not sure I’m really in the mood for-”

“It’s Bucky…”

You paused, your mind at war with whether you ignored him like he ignored you… when you received a swift kick to the ribs, your baby firmly letting you know you were acting stupid. “Ah, ow- Okay, okay. You win… nice kick….” You mumbled to the inevitable bruise forming inside you.

“FRIDAY, Unlock the door to room 7, please?” you requested, to which she gladly complied.

As the door let out a soft click you watched your boyfriend’s head slowly peek inside, a faint smile growing on his features as his eyes finally settled on you. “Doll…” he breathed as if the simple action blessed him with life.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your features before you quickly pulled it all back in. You were still frustrated with him and you weren’t going to let him off so easily. You had to be strong and stick up for the Winter Soldier, after all, it was the least you could do.

“Do you like them…? I know they’re your favorite,” he smiled as he motioned to the box of pastries, taking a few steps closer until he stood an arm's reach away. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of him against you and the tight safety of his arms, but that would have to wait.

“I do… Thank you,” you smiled faintly down at the box as you pulled the blanket tighter around you.

He nodded, the ends of his lips remaining curled in a small smile, “I’m… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to say those things, or imply that I don’t think you’re the smartest one in the room because you are.” His eyes cast down in shame before moving back up to you. He looked worn, as if he had been beating himself up for hours and you wanted nothing more than to take it all away.

“I was tired, and in pain, and scared...” He tried to hide the slight tremble in his voice as he remembered the way his thoughts raced when he first learned you had met the Soldier. He frowned as he fought off the memory that had resurfaced just a short while ago as he continued, “I don’t mean to make excuses, and it won’t happen again, I just-,” he frowned, his jaw setting as he steeled himself and took a breath, “I can’t imagine the ways he must’ve hurt you, or the ways he intended to. It makes me sick to think that I wasn’t there to do anything, and even sicker to know I was the one doing them….”

But it was your turn to frown now, “Bucky, My heart. I keep trying to tell you he didn’t hurt me, He would never….” You assured, but this argument was beginning to look all too familiar.

“Doll, you can’t tell me that you really believe that…? You know the things he’s done, the indiscriminate blood on his hands-” he sighed as he also felt the argument beginning to go around in circles.

Just as you were about to open your mouth FRIDAY interrupted, “Guest Y/N, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Romanoff has requested your presence in the living area. She asks that you do not delay.”

You sighed as you looked at Bucky, who seemed to be just as confused as you were. Nevertheless, you peeled yourself from your blanket cocoon, steadying yourself on the chair’s arm briefly before heading toward the door. You could feel him following behind you, trying to stay a few steps back both in punishment to himself, and the urge to give you space.

You glanced back at him, offering your hand as you slowly made your way down the hall. Bucky took it immediately, holding your hand like it was a lifeline and you gently tugged him closer, urging him to fall in step beside you as you leaned on him for support; he has never been happier to be your crutch.

As the two of you walked into the living space you saw Natasha standing firm in front of the TV with the remote in her hands. Sam and Steve looked back from their place on the couch, waving a bit at each of you as you joined the group.

Before either of you could ask any questions Natasha got straight to the point, “Alright, I’m done feeling the tension between you two in the tower… you two have been arguing about something that- all in all, you two should just be happy went as good as it did..” she motioned for you two to take a seat before continuing, “But because you two are still at odds with each other I’ve asked to get the body cam footage expedited. We have the best of what they’ve gone through already and Barnes? I really think you should watch it…” she said with a pointed look and clear knowing.

He cast an uneasy glance at Sam and Steve, but when he received a simple nod in return he nodded too, tugging you gently onto the seat beside him. With a sigh, he nodded at Nat to start the video. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see it, but he was on a mission and he fucked up, he deserved to know just how spectacularly he did it.

You also motioned to Natasha, and she started the video. However, you could barely keep your eyes on the screen, instead, your eyes were glued to your beloved soldier’s face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction.

Bucky tensed as the video started with the security team breaking through your door, leaving it broken and barely on its hinges as they rushed their way through the house. He took in a sharp breath as the video continued and he saw himself standing over you, the bunching of the sweatshirt making it evident that your baby- his baby- was fully exposed. But it wasn’t until he turned that Bucky’s body started to unwind, his expression still a mask of confusion as he saw you grab the assassin’s hand, his grip giving a comforting squeeze.

“He…”

Bucky’s heart twinged with conflicted feelings as you called out to the team, begging them not to shoot, while still pleading with him to stand down. He could see the look in the Soldier’s eyes, but it wasn’t one he recognized… It was tangled; a war between gentleness, vulnerability, and the unrelenting fight he had had beaten into him years and years ago. The Soldier stood unyielding, shielding the most vulnerable parts of you with his body as he brandished the small knife.

“He was… protecting you…?” Bucky whispered as he looked away, turning his eyes to your teary ones. Despite trying to blink them away, a few still found their escape down your cheeks.

“It’s all he wanted…” You nodded, trying to fight back the renewing well in your eyes, but you knew how it all ended, and though you knew he was still alive you couldn’t help but feel the loss of him still. “ He just wanted a place to call home, a place to be safe…”

Bucky’s hand gripped yours, giving its own reassuring squeeze as he turned back to the screen. ‘My Sun…’ he called you, pure reverence and love in his voice that Bucky had never expected to hear from him. ‘My Star…’ you had called him back, desperate and pleading eyes as he turned back to you.

The security team shouted at him to comply again, and the body cam shifted, showing a young kid whose gun trembled as if he was in the middle of a terrible earthquake. The woman wearing the camera recognized his anxiety and tried to talk him down, but he couldn’t listen and his gun went off with a bang. Bucky could see the kid’s surprise as he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the fear as you clutched desperately to your wounded leg.

He winced as he saw the assassin’s cold expression return and again as a shot lodged square into his shoulder. He knew what was coming before he even lifted the kid in the air, your begging and crying out for his life ringing loudly in the background. No wonder you had been so adamant about defending him, he had done just the same for you.

When the kid was dropped, yet still breathing and the Soldier returned to you Nat finally cut off the video, sighing a bit at the overbearing air of the room.

Everything was quiet for a moment as Bucky took in the weight of the video until Sam and Steve broke the silence.

“We were able to convince him to come back to the tower to be reset after that…”

“He was the one who patched up Y/n’s leg, and vice versa…”

You nodded in agreement, wiping your dry cheeks as you felt tears beginning to return, “He knew he had to go… and he was happy to do so. I think…” You took a breath as Bucky reached over to wipe the falling tears, “I think he was just happy to know he finally had more, more than one purpose.”

Quietly Natasha waved everyone else from the room, giving you two much-needed space.

“That’s why I’m so sure, Bucky... He would never hurt us,” you rested your hand on your belly, “He took bullets for us, just like I know you would- and I have no doubt that he’d do it again. And god, Buck- he loves her so much,” you choked out a sob as you spoke, “He promised her the absolute world and he can’t wait to meet her…”

“Doll…”

“And I can’t wait either,” you said firmly despite your current teary disposition, “I’m glad I finally met him, Bucky. Because despite the separation you and the team refer to him with he is still a part of you.” You looked into the softening eyes of your beloved as you continued “And I know he’s not a part you’re proud of but that won’t make him disappear. I know the things he’s done, and I know that you blame yourself for them, but his actions are not yours….” You said.

“I can’t condone the things he’s done, but I know what he’s doing now, and I know that no matter what you think of him I love every part of you, James Barnes. Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”

Bucky’s eyes blinked as they looked down trying to contain the swell of emotions creeping dangerously close to the edge. Slowly he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your palm like it was worship, “I love you so much, Y/n… I’m sorry I didn't listen before. And though it still makes me hesitate, I’m glad you finally know who he is. He- We are beyond lucky to have you, and even luckier that you somehow manage to love the both of us. I was worried you’d hate me for him...”

“Oh, my heart… I could never stop loving you in any way that would last.”

_____________

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stellar-skyy · 9 months ago

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♡ - LOST & FOUND - Platonic Arlecchino & reader

i. SUMMARY: Hell hath no fury like a parent whose child has been taken from them. ii. CWS & NOTES: description of blood and injury (mildly graphic but not gory), violence, mentions of kidnapping, swearing (like once), implied murder. PLATONIC arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. angst & slight hurt/comfort. 2.5k words. iv. A/N: i am... so normal about parental arlecchino... so normal... i hope you enjoy because i loved writing this!! i have a little written for an epilogue featuring the lyntwins + freminet reuniting, so stay tuned for that ♡

It had been fifty-eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes since [Name] had vanished.

Freminet sat curled up in a velvet armchair that dwarfed his small frame, with Pers on his lap and his brother and sister flanking each side. They had both refused Father’s offer of a seat, which showed the severity of the situation more than words ever could.

No one ever refused Father. Even she had raised an eyebrow at their sudden rebellion.

“Lyney, Lynette. Defiance will not make [Name] come home faster. Take a seat.” Father sipped her tea, poised as ever. Even with that impassive mask, Freminet still noticed the tension in her shoulders.

He always noticed.

“There’s no need,” Lyney said shortly, adding on a respectful “Father.” as an afterthought.

“What my brother means—” Lynette cut in smoothly. “—Is that we do not want to draw this conversation out any longer than necessary. We only came to get permission to postpone our current assignment and search for [Name]. I’m sure you can see the circumstances are dire enough to warrant such action.”

“I’m afraid I do not, Lynette.” Father placed her cup down and folded her hands over her lap. “They are a very skilled agent, and this mission was hardly out of their ability. No need to compromise your current—and very important, I might add—mission, for trivial matters.”

“It isn’t trivial, it’s our sibling!” Lyney burst out, causing Freminet to flinch. He reached out a hand blindly to settle on Freminet’s shoulder, squeezing it quickly in both a comfort and apology for startling him.

“I would be mindful of your place within this household, Lyney.” Father said mildly, the warning clear. “I have given you a direct order, and you will follow it. Do not stray from your assigned mission. [Name] will be fine.” She paused for a beat. “You are dismissed.”

“That’s it?” Lyney hissed. “So, you’re going to just leave them to die?”

It sounded like less of a question and more of an accusation. Freminet winced, feeling Lynette stiffen beside him as well as they waited for the consequences of Lyney’s bluntness.

Arlecchino rose from her seat, the tension in the air thick enough to choke all three of the siblings.

“I never said that. [Name] will be home in due time.” Her gaze shifted from the left to the right side of the armchair. “Lynette, you will have tea with me later, won’t you?” Father asked, causing the girl to freeze.

She bit her lip, answering carefully. “I may. Maybe if [Name] returns, we can all have tea together.”

“A good plan,” Father agreed, ignoring the quiet angry undertone of her words. “When I see them, I shall invite them.”

“It had better be soon; it’s getting late.” Lynette countered. Freminet’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Lynette was always better at matching Father’s games. Freminet crumbled under the weight of her gaze, and Lyney wasn’t any better at handling the pressure without his emotions causing him to crack and splinter.

“Lynette, Freminet. Let’s go.” Lyney said sharply.

Throughout the entire exchange, Lyney’s hand had not moved from where it was planted firmly on Freminet’s shoulder, as if he was refusing to let another of his siblings out of his grasp. Freminet might have remarked that Lynette was handling her worry better, but he noticed how her tail kept curling around his leg when they walked into Father’s office. Neither of the three was willing to part with the others for even a second; not when one of their own had gone missing by doing just that.

As he drew back his hand and moved away, Freminet caught his arm.

“Just… a moment, please. Wait outside, I’ll join you soon.” Freminet murmured, letting go. Lyney pursed his lips.

“Be quick.”

The twins vanished through the doorway, leaving Freminet alone with his Father.

“Freminet dear. You’re hesitating.” Father raised an eyebrow. “Are you waiting for something? Do you want me to give Pers a kiss on the head before I leave?”

Freminet flushed at the memories of holding the toy up to Father when he was young, insisting the penguin deserved a proper goodbye too. “Ahem. I’m not a child anymore… Father.”

“No? Then why are you still here?”

He swallowed awkwardly, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. He met her stare

“I know you’re just as worried as I am.” He said bluntly.

Father’s expression was almost impossible to read, but Freminet managed to catch a hint of surprise at his words. “I see. How did you come to that conclusion?”

It wasn’t denial, nor was it defensiveness. That was a good sign. Freminet continued, “There is a pinch between your eyebrows that you keep trying to smooth over. You’re gripping your teacup much tighter than usual. Your shoulders are tense. And you were far too quick to dismiss the twins’ concerns. You of all people would know that the situation is severe enough to allow a brief pause to their investigation, but you were swift in making sure they were kept as far away from the situation as possible.”

Arlecchino stared back at Freminet silently. She always had that unsettling way of watching him, as if she was picking apart the cogs and wheels spinning in his mind to know exactly what he was thinking.

“Observant as always, Freminet.” Freminet stood up straighter, pink touching his cheeks. “So, tell me this: what am I to do next?”

“You’re… going to find them yourself?” He asked slowly.

“That is correct. I will be.” Father agreed, and something inside him swelled. If only Lyney was still in the room, he would have collapsed with relief. “And what will you be doing?”

“Helping.” Freminet said without a thought.

“Incorrect. You are going to return to your room, go to sleep, and not say a word to your siblings.”

“But—”

“No. You are not involved here.” Arlecchino turned her back on him, looking out the window with her arms folded behind her.

“Father—”

“Do not forget that if you or your sibling’s interference costs me my mission, [Name]’s blood will be on your hands.”

Freminet recoiled sharply, as if she had struck him across the face. Arlecchino refused to lay a hand on any of them, but her words were more than enough to wound them.

“I—”

“I’m not looking for an argument, Freminet.”

Freminet shut his mouth with a click, lowering his head. He forced back the wave of emotions sweeping across him, sinking them so far into the depths of his mind that not even a champion diver like himself would be able to reach them.

“I am looking for an answer.” Father raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Father.” He said quietly.

“Good child,” She murmured, laying a gentle hand on the top of his head. “You are dismissed.”

-----

Arlecchino made her move at the stroke of sundown.

It was disgustingly easy to track them down, and the sheer incompetence only fuelled her rage until it burned brighter than the flames that curled beneath her skin. The assailants were sloppy, leaving plenty of traces for her to find, as if they were waiting for her to find them.

One of her agents had returned with a slip of paper that evening—a ransom note, crudely explaining that they had captured a House of the Hearth agent, and demanding a hefty sum in exchange for their safe return. She had chuckled at that last part. They would be lucky for her to leave them with their lives after what they have done, let alone a reward.

Their hideout was located in a quiet cave near the ocean, with an entrance half-hidden behind a curtain of vines. It was a quaint spot, a cosy place to sit back and watch the sun set over the water. She was sure the view behind her was breathtaking, but she made no move to take a glance for herself.

The vines made way for a long, narrow tunnel, ending with a wooden door. Arlecchino quietly turned the handle, scoffing under her breath when it turned without a key being inserted, and slipped through without making a single sound.

Six were scattered around the dingy room; one woman, five men. Seeming to be aged between their mid-twenties at the youngest, and early-forties at the oldest.

“Have we got a response yet?” The woman muttered impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor.

“How should I know?” One of the men grunted. “We left the note. Eventually it’s gotta make it’s way to the boss herself, and we’ll get the reward.”

“Just gotta be patient,” Another murmured. “Gotta be patient.”

Slightly past them was a wooden cage, secured with a metal lock.

They were in a heap on the floor of the cage, breathing weakly—Arlecchino quietly thanked the Tsaritsa that they were breathing at all—and looked to be passed out.

The fire inside her sang, and she could hardly breathe under the heat of it all.

“How long is this woman gonna take?” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Arlecchino chuckled, causing all of the six to jump. “Oh, then allow me to assure you that you won’t have to wait much longer at all.”

Instantly they were on their feet, grabbing whatever weapon was closest. Their expressions ranged from outright fear, to an egregious amount of confidence for how weak they were in comparison to her.

“Knave,” the closest man grinned crookedly. “How kind of you to join us. I’m assuming you’re here for—” he jerked his head towards the figure still unmoving. “—that one?”

“‘That one’?” Arlecchino repeated slowly, drawing her scythe to her side. “I am here for my child.”

Two of the men—the ones closest to the cage—looked at each other nervously. Arlecchino smiled. It was a pity the rest of the group didn’t share the sense to fear her, but they would learn soon enough.

“Well you see, we’ll be happy to hand them over—” the man’s grin widened. “For a price, of course.”

“A price, you say?” She mused. “How about this. You step aside, I retrieve my child, and offer you a quick death. I would say that is more than fair, considering what you have cost me.”

The smile dropped off the man’s face. “That ain’t an option, lady.”

“Then I think you misunderstand.” She took a step towards him, then another, eyes glinting dangerously in the low light. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Boss—” one of the men tried to say.

“Shut it.” the first man hissed, bringing his shovel up in a defensive position. It was almost laughable, how he thought that would protect him.

“You made four mistakes tonight,” Arlecchino said smoothly. The tip of her scythe brushed the floor, sending a loud scraping sound across the walls. All of the people inside the room winced at the sound, but Arlecchino was unfazed as she continued prowling towards them.

“One… you failed to cover your tracks, making it remarkably easy to track you down.” In one swift motion, she lunged. The group barely had time to blink, before her scythe sliced across the chest of the closest one.

There was silence, before the man made a low gasp, bright crimson blood spilling down his shirt. He collapsed forward onto the ground with a thud, and the room erupted into chaos. A scream tore from the throat of the woman, and she dropped to her knees at his side, desperately clutching his shoulders. Arlecchino aimed a quick strike at her back, and she fell against the man heavily.

“Two, you left the door unlocked.” A pair charged towards her, hammers and shovels swinging. She knocked the weapons from their hands with one hit, and knocked them down with a second.

“Three—” One snuck up from behind, quickly tossing a string of rope over her head and around her neck, pulling harshly to cut off her breathing. An elbow in his ribs winded him enough to loosen his grip, and a knock to the head with the hilt of her scythe sent him to the floor. “You brought far too few people to last in a fight against me.”

The final man stumbled backwards until he hit the wall, shrinking against the bricks. Arlecchino walked with slow steps, stalking towards him like an animal cornering their pray. He shielded his face with his hands, in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Once she was about a foot away, she stopped, leaning in close.

“And four.” Arlecchino grasped the man by the throat, digging her nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood. “You hurt my fucking child.”

She tossed his body to the side, watching him hit the wall with a thud and collapse to the ground like a ragdoll.

“Pathetic.” She scoffed under her breath, stepping over his limp body. Her anger wasn’t nearly quelled—an inferno is not easily cooled, after all—but seeing them all lying lifelessly across the floor of their own base at least brought some vindication. She turned her back to the man, looking over at her child.

They were curled up in the cage like a trapped animal, rattling breaths ringing through the bars. Arlecchino gritted her teeth at the sight, making sure to step on the nearest captor’s fingers as she walked over. She swung her scythe against the lock, shattering it into bits of metal.

Her hands were gentle in reaching into the cage, hooking a hand under their knees and cradling their back with the other. They made a pained cry, and Arlecchino hurried to pull them out. She held them close to her chest, letting their cheek rest where her heartbeat pounded against her chest. Her face didn’t falter from that stony expression, but inside she was burning with fury.

“My child,” She murmured, more to herself than the shivering form in her arms. There was something dangerous in her tone, a note of warning to the assailants still conscious enough to hear her voice. She kissed their forehead, a tender gesture out of place among the bloodshed. “Didn’t I promise you that while you’re with me, no one can hurt you?”

“F-Father…?” A broken whisper slipped through their lips, followed by a sob, first sinking Arlecchino’s heart then shattering it into two.

“Shh… it’s okay. It’s okay, darling, I’m here.” She crooned, carrying them out of the room and through the tunnel. All throughout the journey through the tunnel and back onto the beach, she didn’t stop murmuring comforts and pressing kisses to their head in the most maternal way she’d ever remembered acting.

“I’m sorry, Father…” they mumbled, cheek pressed against her chest.

“Darling…” Arlecchino hummed, even as the smouldering ashes in her chest began to spark and flicker. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

The night was cold, but her child was a warm weight in her arms. She revelled in the warmth, a gentle reminder that they were still alive.

“We’ll be home soon,” Arlecchino promised, even though they were barely conscious enough to hear her. “Soon.”

reblogs are appreciated ♡

#✒️ — writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic x reader #arlecchino x gender neutral reader #arlecchino x gn reader #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino x reader #platonic arlecchino x reader #platonic arlecchino x gn reader

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kjhmyg · 1 month ago

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rough edges pt. 19 (m) pairing: jungkook | reader genre: college!au, fluff, slight angst word count: 34k warnings: mentions of death, drug use, unprotected sex.

summary: when you uncover your boyfriend's private life, a deep dive into it sucks you in as you try to help save him from himself.

a/n: i love you all, an epilogue will come after this, and then we're officially done. i hope you've enjoyed this long ride with me <3

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 6.5 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / part 19 / masterlist

RE asks tag / pinterest board

The revelation took a while to digest.

An hour later, and you’re still reeling from the surprise. After dinner, Namjoon retreated back to his apartment next door, one that had been vacant since the night of the raid. Your head continues to buzz. Everything had come to a standstill when the words spilled from Namjoon’s mouth. You were stunned into silence, eyes searching for any hint that he may be joking. But there was none of that, rather, a look of pride blooming on his face as he turned to your boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend, was his informant.

⎼

By Jungkook’s request, you’re staying over, but it wasn’t like you were planning on leaving anyway. You’d gotten Namjoon to speak with Hana so she wouldn’t worry when you told her you’d be away for the night. She thinks you’re staying over his place to get some space, which isn’t entirely a lie. But you left out a crucial aspect. Your desire to be proven right about Jungkook flew out the window hours ago. It doesn’t matter that she or anyone else doesn’t know he’s alive. They don’t need to know (and not until Namjoon clears it anyway). The calm night sky rests in contrast to the bright, bubbling city underneath. A collection of lives unfold before you in countless small frames. Each window gives you a glimpse into a stranger’s world, and you realise the beauty of humans living alongside each other, fighting their own battles and hiding behind a mask of smiles and superficial posts. Yellow and red lights line the road below, heavy traffic continuing even at this time of the night. If you listen closely, you can even hear the rumbling of a motorcycle engine and the honks of tired drivers. Safe in your boyfriend’s room, away from the madness, a feeling of content washes over you. The cool wind from the AC leaves goosebumps over your exposed skin, clothed only in one of Jungkook’s shirts. Jungkook steps out of the bathroom after a shower, and catches your eye from across the room. Tossing his towel aside, he walks over and lets you snuggle up to him, practically melting into you himself. “So nice and warm.” you mumble against his shoulder. He chuckles, then brings his finger to your chin, lifting you up so he can land a soft, innocent kiss. Sighing right after, he mumbles. “I’ve missed this.” The light shining through the windows land perfectly on his face, accentuating his features. You brush his hair back to take a good look. There’s a subtle difference about him, a shift in his aura. The smile he now wears is innocent and childlike, as if the part of him that held up a tough front has completely melted away. Your hand comes up to his cheek and he lets his head sink into your palm affectionately. He flashes a smile and you feel yourself getting lifted off the floor, hooking your arms around him in surprise. The couch in the living area has been unfolded into a huge bed, covered in a large blanket, bordered with pillows. Jungkook lets you down gently before turning down the lights. You slide your feet under the covers, taking refuge from the cold, and he joins you soon after, walking back with drinks and snacks from the kitchen. “I bought a bunch of stuff and put it on Namjoon’s tab.” He giggles, leaving them on the coffee table at the side. You can’t stop staring at the way he’s visibly at ease now more than ever before, and at the same time in disbelief that he’s right in front of you. Noticing this as he makes himself comfortable, he pulls you in closer and tucks stray strands of hair behind your ear. “Did you like the flowers?” “I knew that was you!” The sudden outburst has him laughing. “The note at the cafe too?” You huff when he confirms your theory. “I wasn’t allowed to make direct contact, so I did it discreetly. But then my handler found out I’d gone to the cafe, and Namjoon lectured me about it. So I had to stop.” “And then the playlist?” He nods. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier.” He confesses. Recalling the events of the night, Jungkook can’t help but to smile to himself. “I didn’t know Namjoon was gonna reveal everything tonight.” “It’s crazy,” you say, “I haven’t seen him in weeks. And suddenly he shows up and tells me he needs to talk about the case.” Jungkook scoffs at the thought. “He’s so dramatic.” “You’re pretty close now, huh?” You ask, tilting your head as you think of how much he had hated Namjoon initially. “Yes and no.” Jungkook shrugs when you hit him with a confused look. “It’s complicated.”

⎼

Jungkook struts down the street, eyeing every alley he walks past. He’d been getting updates from their runners about a man asking questions for the last month or so. Two weeks ago, Jungkook decided to check it out, only watching from afar. He sees the suspect walking with his hands in his pocket, hat covering his eyes, surveying and talking to people in the area. There’s a chance it’s nothing, sometimes people are just curious. But one too many complaints, and it would reach Kyun, which would escalate quickly. So Jungkook takes it upon himself to sort it out. “Hey!” Jungkook calls out, walking up to two figures talking in the dark of an alley a block away from the boss’ club. One of them he recognises, running off with a nod from Jungkook. Jungkook gives the suspect a once over. A mask covers his face, and the hat pulled down over his eyes, but it’s clear to Jungkook he’s not a customer. “Can I help you?” The guy shrugs, shaking his head. “Was just looking for some supplies.” Jungkook nods slowly. “I can get you that. You selling or just personal use?” “Personal.” He says. He nods in the direction where the previous runner had left. “What was wrong with that guy?” “Oh nothing.” Jungkook says. “Just that I could probably get you a better rate. He gets his supplies from me, so either way, it’s the same thing.” “I see.” Jungkook searches his jacket, hands going in and out of pockets only to come up empty. He looks at the man before him, “Shit, sorry man, seems I don’t have any on me right now. Why don’t you come over to our club, I have some there.” The man clicks his tongue, waving his hand. “It’s fine. I’ll just come back another time.” If someone were really desperate for a hookup, they would've taken the bait. The man’s aversion to his offer made him all the more suspicious to Jungkook. As he attempts to walk past, Jungkook’s hand lands firmly on his shoulder. The man is slightly taller, but he can clearly feel Jungkook’s strength. And though Jungkook hasn’t said a word, he knows he’s been made. He takes a step back, eyeing Jungkook. “It’s risky stuff. You might not want to pull on this thread.” “Get your hand off me, kid.” “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I suggest you stay away if you’re not here for supplies.” Jungkook warns him. His body language remains unchanged, and Jungkook’s positive now that he has an ulterior motive. “I’ll let you off tonight. But maybe next time, you won’t be so lucky.” Jungkook turns, and walks off, pausing only a couple of steps ahead. “But if you really do need some, come and find me.” He turns back only a fraction of the way, nodding his head, before speeding off. Once he’s sure Jungkook’s gone, Namjoon lets out the breath he’s been holding.

⎼

As Jungkook predicted, this guy doesn’t spook easily. Anyone who’s ever heard of their crew would suffice with a single warning. But not Namjoon. Two days later when Jungkook patrols down the same route, things looked ordinary enough. He goes on for a while without finding anything suspicious, and figures maybe that his warning did work after all. Lucky for Jungkook, because now he can get back to work. But as he does, he comes across a commotion along the way to the club. It’s not unusual in these areas. One two many drinks, or a line of coke later, and people lose all sense of sanity. Many times, he’s had to step in before someone gets hurt or calls the police. It’s only when he gets nearer to the source that he recognises the woman yelling as one of their own, fighting off three men who can’t seem to take the hint. Instinctively, he runs towards them but pauses just before he crosses the road. Something’s caught his attention. He sees someone else making a beeline towards the fuss, bulldozing his way into the men, and knocking them down like bowling pins. Even from across the street, Jungkook finds him familiar. The hat and the drabby navy blue jacket, it’s him. He’s strong, but he doesn’t fight from experience. He’s too strategic with his moves, clearly trained. It doesn’t take long before the three men give up, stumbling over as they attempt to run off. Jungkook watches his attention shift to the woman after. From a safe distance, Jungkook trails after them as he walks her to the club, stopping at a distance away and waving her off. She turns to give him a kiss on the cheek before rushing inside. Jungkook scoffs, “What a weasel.”

⎼

“This isn’t the first time a cop is sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.” Jungkook circles Namjoon, eyeing him down in a parking lot of a grocery. “You’re lucky I’m the one standing here.” “Oh yeah?” Namjoon pops open a bottle and chugs some of it down. “Why is that?” “If it was anyone else, you’d already be lying in a pool of your own blood.” Now that Jungkook has seen his face, and right through his cover, infiltrating the gang would be foolish at this point. He never thought his cover would be blown so quickly, before it even started. But his anonymity wasn't the only edge he had. Namjoon had done in depth research about the members, he knows what to expect from each one, and here standing in front of him is one he knows all too well. “I don’t want any trouble.” Namjoon raises his palms. “Can we talk?” “You’re risking your life just for a conversation?” “You look like you’re just a kid,” Namjoon’s comment confuses Jungkook, “do they usually start as young as you do?” “This isn’t an interview.” Jungkook’s walls come up. Something’s off about this guy, and he doesn’t like being around him. “You need to stop, I’m not kidding. These guys, they don’t play, they’re not the usual bad guys you⎼” “So I’ve heard.” “Then you know it’s in your best interest if I never see you around again.” Jungkook leaves it at that, walking away, hoping he’d take the warning seriously. “Hey kid.” Namjoon calls out. “You go to Inha University, right?” Jungkook’s steps slow down, contemplating on turning back, but that would just give him the satisfaction. Knowing that much about him, means he’s an actual threat. At this point, Jungkook knows he’s trouble. But escalating this would mean he’d be dead by tomorrow. Namjoon patiently waits for a response. Jungkook turns back to him, a serious look on his face. “I’m gonna do you a favour and forget what just happened. Leave. I’m serious. If I get word about you snooping around again, I might actually have to kill you.” Namjoon backs off, but not out of defeat. Jungkook couldn’t have given him a better response; he could have killed him right there, but he didn’t. Namjoon even gave him a second chance to do it, and again, he held back. “I guess I can’t give up just yet.” Namjoon mutters to himself.

⎼

1 week later

The only thing Jungkook hates more than a meddler, is a persistent one. The moment his eyes land on a certain man he remembers telling to stay away, Jungkook knows this guy is going to make life difficult for him. Right after training, as he’s about to mount his bike, Namjoon walks over. The school compound is quiet at this time of evening. With no one around, Jungkook grabs him by the collar as soon as he’s within reach. “What the fuck are you doing here?” “I need to talk to you.” “Do you have a death wish? If anyone catches⎼” “No one else knows how I look like.” Namjoon shrugs, “Unless…”Jungkook averts his gaze at the insinuation. He hadn’t, in fact, told anyone about this guy, or the truth about what happened in that alley. When reporting back, he lied and said the man ran off before he could do anything. The lack of response gives Namjoon a further boost of hope. “As far as anyone can see, you’re just talking to a guy.” Jungkook looks around cautiously. “We can talk in my car?” Namjoon proposes.

“No.” Jungkook’s brows knit together in disgust at the friendliness in his tone. He mounts his bike and slips a helmet on. “Look, Jungkook⎼” “How the fuck do you know my name?” Jungkook pauses before kicking his bike stand up. “Who are you, really? What do you want?” Namjoon sighs. “I know a lot. I know the little blond guy who’s always schmoozing with the VIPs at the clubs is your partner. I know where you go to school, I know your friends. I know you stay at a greek house with⎼” “Enough.” Jungkook’s eyes pierce through Namjoon’s, his mind calculating the chances of this man pulling him into a trap. "Fine.” Jungkook decides, kicking the bike stand and his engine roars to life. “There’s a gym I go to just a little out of the district. Meet me there at midnight in two days.” Namjoon’s smile showcases his dimples, and he steps aside to give Jungkook way.

⎼

Jungkook exits the gym five minutes after midnight, scanning the area outside to find Namjoon waiting by his car. Heavy steps take him there, scowling at the smile on the man’s face. “Alright, what do you want?” Namjoon chuckles, “Slow down, kid.” “Don’t call me that.” “Fine,” he extends his hand, “I’m⎼” “I don’t really care.” Jungkook cuts him off. “Just tell me what this is about.” Taking a breath, Namjoon goes over his proposal in his head. Knowing Jungkook’s position in Kim’s hierarchy, as one of those at the top at such a young age, he knows it won’t be easy trying to convince him. “You were right about me.” He says, “I’m not looking to buy.” Jungkook shuffles a tiny step back, straightening up, arms folding over his chest. “Thought so. Let me guess, they’re launching another investigation on Kim.” Namjoon nods, but the smile on his face just moments ago no longer there. “You’re a detective aren’t you? You’ve done your research. I’m sure you know people have tried. Time and again Kim has gotten away. What makes you think this time will be different?”

⎼

A movie plays softly in the background while Jungkook retells the story. As he talks, your interest grows, now sat up and facing him with your back to the television and the covers wrapped around your body. He laughs at you. “Look at you,” he taps your nose. “What happened next!” You whine, begging him to go on. Jungkook leans back against the couch and sighs. “I thought about it for a long while. Of course, I was mad about Hoseok but I was actually considering the offer, which was crazy. I thought about what it would mean to not be part of Kim’s gang, to not do things I used to do. But I just couldn’t see myself beyond any of that. It was just who I was. So why would I help him destroy the only place I ever belonged to?” There was sadness etched over his face and the tone of his voice. Stories of his past come back to you and you recall why Kim and everyone in that gang were so important to him. They were his entire life. “What changed?” You ask, fully invested in his story. “You.” Jungkook smiles fondly. “I met you.” “Me?” “I’d already turned Namjoon down by the time we first met,” he explains, looking a little shy, “but after we started seeing each other…I started seriously falling for you, and I thought maybe, maybe I could live a normal life. Like everyone else. I wanted that life. With you.” “Jungkook…” “So I called Namjoon and told him I’d take him up on his offer.” He says. “I’d get him info and in return they’d work out some form of immunity. I missed days of work because I was having meetings with him here, giving him a rundown of how things worked. Suga was livid ‘cause he thought I blew him off to hang out with you.” “You were having your meetings here? Oh⎼ so that’s⎼ oh.” It finally makes sense. The address he’d written down in his notebook wasn’t work-related, it was Namjoon’s address all along. Jungkook tilts his head. “What?” “Nevermind, please continue.” You say and he shakes his head. “No no no, I’m not letting you off. Tell me, what were you saying?” He tugs on the blanket, threatening to expose you to the cool air. “I just⎼ it’s kind of embarrassing.” Jungkook raises his brow, and you know he won’t let this go till you tell him. “You know how you didn’t like talking about work when we first started dating? But I got really curious and everyone kept hinting at it. So I kinda snooped around and looked through a little notebook you had in your room. And I came across an address…this address. I thought it would lead me to where you worked and what you were keeping from me.” His brows crease together, “You looked through my stuff?” “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have.” Your bottom lip juts out and he pretends to be mad, trying his best to hold back a smile because you look too cute. “You are so…nosey.” He laughs when you simply raise your eyebrows. “You’re not mad at me?” “I guess I would’ve been back then. But now, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” “Guess not,” you say, looking down, “all this while…you were just meeting up with Namjoon.”

He nods, “Yeah. Once his team had a solid plan, it was initiated. I didn’t even know what most of it consisted of. He said it needed to be as natural as possible, so it wasn’t until he was assigned to our team that I saw him again. I didn’t even know he’d take up a job at school.” “Is that why you were so against me being friends with him at the start?” You ask. “Sort of.” Jungkook remembers the exact day he’d seen you talking to Namjoon. “I wanted to keep you away from all of this." “I thought it was because you hated him and you were jealous.” “Oh I did hate him.” He says casually. “What? Just because I agreed to work with him doesn’t mean I need to like him. And please, you would never date a fart like him.” You hit him with a look and he shrugs, reaching out to unroll the sheets you’ve made yourself comfortable in. He grabs you by the thigh and pulls you closer. Then drops his head on your lap and closes his eyes. “So yeah, that’s about it basically.” He mumbles. When your fingers rake through his hair, he hums an exhale. Almost melting into the bed if he could, his body visibly relaxes with your touch. “You haven’t been sleeping well, huh?” His cheek rubs against you when he nods, and goosebumps appear on his skin as you trace your nails on his scalp. You focus on the movie while Jungkook remains in your lap, staying that way for a while. You expected him to doze off like he usually does. But his eyes glazed over, staring into the distance. The smile he had earlier is gone. “What’s on your mind?” Your tender voice soothes him out of his daze. “Just thinking…” his voice is hoarse, “that it’s finally over.” He’s still trying to come to terms with what’s happened, and you can’t imagine what the last month or so has been for him, having to watch his entire world crumble. It’s a complicated web of emotions that he’s trying to untangle. On one hand, he’s free, but on the other, what did it take for him to get here? Even while he spoke earlier, you sensed confliction. “How are you feeling?” You ask, treading carefully. “When you were talking about Kim earlier, I saw that look on your face. And now that he’s…” You swear you see his face muscles twitch at the question, and perhaps his eyes get a little glossier than before. But he blinks the urge to cry away, and knits his brows together. “I don’t want to talk about that.” “Okay,” you trace a finger over his features again, forcing them to relax. You wipe away the tiny puddle formed in the corner of his eyes. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. You can tell me anything, remember?” Opening his eyes, he’s greeted by your own, and he sits up to face you. “Right now, I just want to be with you.”

Warmth spreads to your cheeks. Maybe it’s the weeks of separation that’s got you blushing at his words but the way he’s staring does you no favours. Your breath hitches when he gets close, face inches away and breath hot against your face. He’s greeted with a satisfied hum from you when your lips touch. Fingers cup your jaw to hold you steady. Somehow your hands find their way to his body now that he’s leaning, practically hovering, over you. He all but devours your mouth, tongue fighting for dominance and a soft whimper leaves you when his teeth grazes your bottom lip.

Pulling away, your half-lidded eyes reflect your desire. And it all but fuels his own. Skin burning under your touch, you revel in the way his breath gets caught as your hands slide down his abs, fingers dangerously dancing by the hem of his pants. He’s quick to react, pulling you into his lap so that you’re straddling him, arms resting over his shoulders while his hands roam over your thighs. Jungkook’s body relaxes with a sigh, pulling you taut against him, face buried between your clothed chest. Your head rests against his, and he feels your heart thumping against your body. “Y/N,” his words come out as a whisper, “I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you that night.” His grip only tightens when you try to look at him. “I know, baby. I feel the same way.” You kiss the side of his head. “You’re everything to me.” He says, this time looking up at you. “I’d die if I ever lose you.” “I’m not going anywhere.” You say, lips ghosting over his. “I’m all yours.” Your lips find each other again, and the kiss burns with his ache for you. It’s a feeling he’s still getting used to, one he’s only ever experienced with you. He never thought he had the capacity to love someone this much. Your hips move against him ever so gently, yet it gets you a delicious hum of approval. Abandoning your mouth, he plants soft kisses on your neck, focusing his attention on that sweet spot that has you sighing. The growing tent in his pants starts to bother him and he shifts uncomfortably, only to buck into your instead. You palm his hardness and he breaks contact, letting out a groan and throwing his head back. His growing impatience stops the attention you’re giving him and switches up your positions, leaving you on your back against the cool blankets and him kneeling between your legs. The shirt you’re wearing hovers dangerously just below your hips, but with your legs spread, he gets a good view of your sex, mouth salivating. Jungkook peppers kisses along your inner thigh. Your insides throb with anticipation when you feel his hot breath on your cunt, teasing you with the softness of his lips, till you feel his tongue brushing against your clit teasingly. You grip the sheets at the contact, already feeling the adrenaline rush. Jungkook thinks you’re cute, he’s barely done anything and you’re already holding on for your life. He gets back on his knees, much to your disappointment. This time, he lifts your shirt up and you arch your back to help him, leaving it just above your chest. “You’re so fucking pretty.” He mutters, eyes staring down your naked form. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, feeling the heat rush to your face. It occurs to you how long it’s been since the last time you were together, for you to be embarrassed in front of him. Deprived of his touch in months, that even a simple compliment has you blushing. Rough hands roam your body, starting from your thighs, all the way up to your breasts. Soon his lips join them, leaving the softest kisses all over. You sigh as he captures your right nipple in his mouth, thighs closing on him in response. You can feel the upturn of his lips, smirking his way across to your left. The jerk your body does as his tongue grazes the tip of your nipple has his hands sinking into your flesh. His right hand slides down your body, finding its way to your growing wetness. He plays with your folds and teasingly around your entrance. You spread your legs wider, gripping onto his arm as he easily slips in two fingers. You’re embarrassed of the sounds you’re making, but it’s music to his ears. His fingers move at a good pace, but it’s not enough. “More please⎼ “

“More?” He asks against your skin. You nod. He obliges, letting in two more fingers as he studies your face, eyes falling shut, trying to reach your high. Your hands grip roughly around his arm. “F-faster⎼” He has half a mind to stop, just to tease you a little. But you look too good when you’re chasing your high. So pretty and whiny. Mesmerised by the way your mouth drops open, he quickens the pace, feeling the burn on his arm. Your voice gets caught in your throat when he curves his fingers to hit that spot, and Jungkook feels the warmth coating his fingers as you reach your high, continuing to milk every last drop out of you. You take a while to recover, reeling from the first orgasm in months. Part of you embarrassed it took so little to get you there. When you finally get your sanity back, you open your eyes to Jungkook watching you as he sucks your fluid off his fingers. He momentarily gets off the couch and slips his pants off. You reach out to him, wanting to feel him close to you. He climbs over, letting his weight rest on you. “Feel good?” You nod, “But I want you.” Something dark flickers in his eyes as he gazes into yours. His cock twitches between your bodies and you start to throb again. “Where do you want me?” “I want you inside me,” your hands slip around his cock and he lifts his hips up to make room, “I want you to fuck me.” He makes a slow exhale. Your hand rubs over his tip as the words slip out of your mouth. His eyes shut as he grinds into your hand. Then he pushes himself off, and positions himself between your legs. “Fuck,” he mutters, eyes roaming over you, chest heaving at the sight, “all mine.” It makes your heart skip, and cunt throb with anticipation. His cock rubs against your folds, coating him with your wetness, before aligning with your entrance, carefully watching your face as he lets himself in. A gasp leaves you and your back arches slightly. He goes tauntingly slow just to savour the look you have. “Jungkook,” you mutter his name in a whisper as he fits all of him inside you. He can barely control himself right then, hips bucking against you. He goes slow, allowing you to get used to him before increasing the pace. Your gasps turn to soft mewls, and he keeps a steady pace only to keep hearing the sweet sounds you’re making.

Jungkook looks divine, even with the scars on his body. Your eyes drop to the one on his thigh, the one he’d gotten the night you were kidnapped. Then to his lower abdomen where Hongjun had shot him. He’d taken a bullet for you, not once but twice. He decided to change his life because he wanted to have one with you.

You love him. You love him. You love him. The change in your demeanour doesn’t go unnoticed . Jungkook slows down, studying you carefully. He meets you face to face, pressing his body gently against yours, slowly pumping himself into you. His arms cage you in on both sides of your head and your legs wrap around him. A gasp escapes you as he rolls his hips into you. “Is this okay?” He asks. When you don’t respond, he breaks his rhythm, worried that he may be pushing you too hard. After all, you’re still recovering. The consideration he shows you further intensifies the feeling bubbling inside of you. “I love you.” The whisper of your words surprises him, and with his body against yours, you feel the rise of his heart rate. If possible, it’s as if the burning in his chest is seeping into yours. He kisses you, warm and gentle against your lips. “I love you too.” Jungkook gets back his rhythm, driven by the pool of emotions in his chest. Your words echo in his mind and a tight knot forms inside him, filled to the brim with his feelings for you. With eyes piercing into yours, it’s impossible to look away. He wants to fuck you senseless, but already he’s feeling the heat in his core. It’s the way your body moves in sync with his. Each thrust meets with the gentle rise of your hips, allowing him to fill you up. He pauses for a beat each time, savouring the warmth of your walls around his cock. And with the lustful way you’re looking at him, he could come undone anytime. Only you could have this effect on him. Jungkook maintains control, grunting each time he looks down to where you become one, pleased at how well you take him. Your hand guides him back to you. Jungkook loses his breath when you force him to meet your gaze. You’re so beautiful. For a moment he falters, thrusts becoming sloppy, and you wrap your arms around him to have him close. He swallows up your moans, your tongue losing in a battle of dominance as he devours you. Your nails dig into the flesh of his back, when you feel that familiar knot in your core. Jungkook keeps his pace steady, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, addicted to the way you write under him, arching your back in anticipation. “I’m gonna cum⎼” you whisper, eyes closed. “Yeah? Cum for me baby,” Jungkook says, against your lips, giving you gentle kisses. His voice reverberates against your neck as he speaks. You open your eyes again, and they’re met with his awe-struck gaze. “Want you⎼ cum with me⎼” You feel it coming, the pressure inside you on the brink of explosion. Your hips buck up to meet his as he continues to slam into you, his hot breath against your ear. Getting sloppy himself, moans leave Jungkook’s mouth as he goes. He wipes the hair out of your face, grabbing your attention so your eyes can meet again. Your gazes lock on to each other and neither can tear away. He wants this moment to last forever. Intertwined with you, making love to you. Jungkook feels himself reaching his high, but something else creeps up his chest, and waters his eyes. “I’m⎼c⎼”

You lose all senses as the pressure in your core snaps, and your legs tremble against him, fingers scraping his back. Jungkook’s thrusts get sloppy, but he carries on, determined to let you ride out your orgasm. Jungkook curses at the lewd expression on your face and the moans you gift him with. Your walls squeeze around his cock and his own resolve breaks as he cums inside you with a heavy load, moaning right in your ear. His weight rests completely on top of you as he buries his face next to yours, and you let him milk every last drop inside of you. You rub his back soothingly, kissing the side of his head. When he can finally bring himself to face you, you’re greeted with his glossy eyes. “I love you so much.”

⎼

It’s the middle of the night when you roll over, throwing your arm to the other side of the couch bed. But you don’t find what you’re reaching for, Jungkook’s side now empty. The digital clock on the console reads 3am. You usually stir from your sleep at this time anyway. His voice comes from the other side of the room, behind the couch where the dining table is. Jungkook’s talking to someone. But at this time? Sleep still masking your attention, you only manage to pick out a couple of words he’s whispering. “No, I don’t know how to tell her…” Tell you what? It sobers you slightly and you feel a pang to your chest, with a familiar anxiety building inside of you. You sit up on the edge of the bed and the movement gets Jungkook’s attention. He ends the call right then, and you walk over, tripping over your own feet in the dark. Rubbing your eyes, you reach out to him and he pulls you in. You find the space between his legs and sit on his lap, leaning your body against his. “Baby, why are you up?” He asks quietly. “I couldn’t find you.” You say sleepily and he resists the urge to squish your face. “Why are you up?” “I can’t sleep.” He says, slipping his arm under your knees and lifting you back to where you came from. He climbs over you and to the other side, pulling the covers over both of you. You look at his face, illuminated by the lights from the window. The redness in his eyes, bags under them. “You look so tired.” “I am.” He admits, “But I just can’t sleep. It takes a while.” “What do you do when you can’t sleep?” “Think of you,” he says sweetly, running his thumb over your cheek, “all of you.” “Shut up.” You giggle, getting comfy under the covers. “Something bothering you?” “I just keep getting nightmares from that night.” You let him snuggle comfortably with his head against the crook of your neck, deep breaths taking in your scent. “Tell me.” “The moment I doze off, I’m just back to that night…the chaos…the panic,” he sucks in a breath, “it all comes back to me.” “Did something happen that night? Something you want to talk about?” You can’t understand what’s going on in his mind. A part of him must be relieved to know that the entire operation was a success despite the lives lost. But something tells you there’s something else that’s bothering him. Jungkook shakes his head. “No. Nevermind.” “Jungkook,” you sigh, “maybe talking about it will help.” He presses himself deeper into you if that’s even possible. It’s obvious now that there’s more he needs to unpack before he’ll feel okay. “Whatever it is, we’ll go through it together.” You say. The arm around your body gets heavier and his breaths get even. You continue to rub a soothing hand down his back. “I’ll always be here for you.”

⎼

Namjoon sits at the table with Jungkook, in discussion over something important. So important that you aren’t allowed to be part of it. In the last two days you’ve been here, Jungkook would go over to Namjoon’s apartment to have these talks, but today, he’s decided to have it here instead. You occasionally sneak peeks from Jungkook’s room, looking through a gap in the door. Jungkook picks up the movement from his peripheral and sends you a wink. You smile, then close the door again. One last look in the mirror, and you’re slinging your bag over your shoulder, carefully opening the door so as to not interrupt them, but also making your presence known. The talking stops once you’re within hearing range. “I’ll be back.” You go up to Jungkook and give him a kiss. “Bye Namjoon.” “The car’s waiting for you downstairs.” He says, nodding, then points his pen at you. “And remember, not a word.” “Got it.” You pretend you zip your lips. Having to keep this on the low unfortunately means you’ve got to keep lying to everyone. When you arrive at the apartment, Hana rushes out of her room with a huge smile on her face. “Hey.” She says apprehensively. You almost forget you’d left things a little weird that day. “Hi.” You hug her first, and she sighs in relief, hugging you back. “Everything okay?” “I should be asking you that.” “I’m good.” You nod, and she relaxes, relieved to see you in good spirits. “I needed the space. I feel better now.” “Okay,” she holds your hand, “sorry about the other day. I was insensitive.” “No no, it’s alright. I mean,” you scoff, “I wasn’t in the right state of mind anyway.” “I know but⎼” “Don’t worry about it.” You assure her firmly, wanting to move on from the subject. The flowers Jungkook got you were starting to wilt, looking lonely and sad on your table, so you gave it a water change. After which you start packing a load of clothes, enough to last you a week, into a duffel bag. Wafting through the apartment, the smell of good homemade cooking distracts you, and you leave the packing aside to hop outside. “What’s this?” You ask, smirking as you walk to the kitchen where Hana has made herself busy. “I’m making your favourites; chicken soup and butter prawns!” Her voice goes up an octave, proudly showing off her cooking. She’d always been the better cook anyway, so you don’t doubt its taste. In fact, you’re salivating just thinking about the gorgeous prawns she made last time, and the chicken soup she’s working on now bubbling on the stove, with the rice cooker steaming on the counter behind her. Her face drops when you don’t react the way she expected you to. You don’t even realise you’d been standing there with a blank look. “What’s wrong?” You force a smile. “It sounds amazing Hana. You know I love your cooking.” “But?” But you weren’t exactly planning on staying till dinner. You were so focused on getting back to Jungkook that you’d completely forgotten to tell her that. “I just thought…I’d go back⎼” “Go back?” “To Namjoon’s apartment?” You say carefully. “It’s just that he has an empty place and I think being on my own is actually good for me right now so…” “Oh.” You can almost hear the sound of her heart breaking. The more you speak, the worse her expression gets and you hate yourself for it. Jungkook can wait. You’ll see him again tonight anyways. “But you know what, I can stay for dinner. Not like I have anything else to do.” You chuckle.

Hana perks up just a little. “I didn’t realise you were going back. And so soon.” “Well yeah I just⎼ it’s a nice place and⎼ it’s just good for me⎼ like maybe right now I need⎼” Curses float through your mind as you struggle to find the right excuse without hurting her. But now she’s looking at you confused by your stammering. She knows you too well to know you’re hiding something. “Fuck it.” You groan, running your hand over your face. “Jungkook’s alive. He’s at Namjoon’s place. I’ve been with him for the last few days.” It was certainly not what Hana was expecting, mouth parting in surprise, struggling to process what you just said.

⎼

“Are you sure?” Namjoon’s eyes pierce Jungkook’s. “You have no idea where Suga is?” “I’m telling you the truth. That night was the last time I saw him. I don’t know where he is now.” It hurts Jungkook to think about it. That the last night he’d seen Suga was the same night he’d betrayed Kim in that alley. Namjoon observes Jungkook for a minute. In his experience, there’s always a chance of a cover up. They’d been going through the names of those arrested, Jungkook helping Namjoon pair their real names with their aliases and identifying those who managed to escape and their threat level. Suga being one of them. “Fine. I believe you.” So he says. “But if we do find him, he is going to prison.” “I know that.” “And if we find out that you’ve been in contact with him, then your immunity is revoked.” Jungkook nods curtly. Turning back to his notes, Namjoon goes over a couple more things before their meeting is done. He piles the papers into a stack and slots them into a confidential file. He glances at the younger man, now zoned out, staring at the centrepiece of the table. “It’s almost confirmed. You have to tell her soon.” “I know, I just can’t find it in me.” Jungkook leans back. “I’ve been agonising over the last two days. How can I burst her bubble like that? She’s gone through so much, and finally we get to be together again. How do I…” Jungkook trails off, as if speaking about it would make reality come quicker. “How do I break it to her that I’m gonna be sent away?”

⎼

You proudly show off your old phone to Hana. “See? I got it back.” “That’s great.” She smiles, still trying to process the sudden flood of information. You’ve spent the last half an hour breaking your promise to Namjoon. But that doesn’t matter, you’ll deal with him when the time comes. Or maybe he just doesn’t have to know. “But I’m still…are you sure that person is really Jungkook? Not an imposter? Is this all a dream? Am I part of your dream?” Hana yelps when you pinch the flesh of her arm. “Does that hurt?” “Yes?!” “So this isn’t a dream.” Hana looks at you unbelievably. “Okay, you’re back to normal. So this is all real.” “It took me a while too.” You say, sporting a silly smile that she hasn’t seen in a while. “But it’s real. He’s alive. And safe. He’s just been laying low at Namjoon’s place the whole time.” “And all along he’s been…” “Namjoon’s informant.” “That’s crazy.” Hana laughs. “That’s the craziest thing yet. I mean, besides you getting held hostage of course.” “I know.” You stop chewing and cross your arms on the table. “Now, I’m not supposed to tell you any of this so please.” “I won’t tell anyone.” She nods. “Not even Hoseok.” “I promise.” Hana holds out her pinky and you hook yours around it. She looks more relieved to have you back than anything else. “I’m glad he’s safe. I know you’ve been worried sick the last couple of weeks. I love that I can finally see you smile like this again.” A pang of guilt hits you hard. Hana had been with you throughout your recovery and it hasn’t been easy for her, but she tried her best. That was never in doubt. On the other hand, you were less than pleasant to deal with. Even if you weren’t yourself, she didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of your outbursts. “Hana, I’ve been awful to you. I’m so sorry.” You reach over to grab her hand. “I couldn’t control myself. I felt like everyone was too careful around me…but at the same time I hated it when you guys were honest with me.” “I get it,” she exhales. “You were just trying to stay optimistic but we kept shutting you down. I think anyone would’ve been annoyed.” “Still, I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.” “I felt so bad after.” Hana admits. “I thought you didn’t want to come back because you were still mad at me.” “I was kinda upset but,” you shake your head, “I would never just leave you, Hana. You’re my best friend.” She smiles. “You were right in the end though. About Jungkook.” “I told you so.” Laughter fills the room, washing away any tension that has plagued the house in the last month.

⎼

The cool night air bites at your skin. Jungkook swims laps in the pool, while you sit on the edge, splashing your feet in the water. Past midnight, no one else comes up here, leaving you with the perfect space to get some fresh air. Jungkook appears between your legs, brushing his hair back and wiping the water off his face. He shows off his charming smile when you raise your brows. “You just brought me here to seduce me.” “It’s working though, right?” He chuckles. Jungkook carries you into the warm water, and you let your legs hook around him. With his arm firmly around your waist, you lean back, gazing up at the night sky. “I can’t believe rich people have rooftop pools. This is amazing.” “Wait till you see the sauna.” You gasp dramatically and his nose scrunches up. He floats about with you in his arms and your head rested on his shoulder. A sigh of content leaves your lips. “I’m so happy.” His arms seem to tighten around you just then, and after a while he moves towards the steps where the both of you rest with half your bodies in the water. Expression unreadable, he watches you fix your hair and scoots closer when you smile at him. His hand comes up to your thigh and it seems as though he’s building to say something. “What?” You ask, tilting your head to look at him when he looks away. Jungkook shakes his head. “I um…” Seconds go by as he contemplates, then finally faces you again. “Let’s get out of here.” “Oh okay,” you shrug, “we can watch that new netflix release⎼” “No,” Jungkook’s eyes go wide just like it used to when he’s up to something, “not back to the apartment. Out of here, like, out of here.” “You wanna leave? Are you allowed to do that?” “We can go watch a movie at the theatre.” “You’re definitely not allowed to do that.” “Come on!” Jungkook gets out first, water gushing down as he does, and extends his hand out to you. Staring up at him, the consequences line up in your head. There are limitations he has to abide by, and he’d already been caught once. His eyes shine with a glimmer of hope, wiggling his fingers in encouragement. His smile only gets bigger when you grab his hand and trail along after him. A man appeared at the front door upon Jungkook’s call; his handler, apparently. This is the first time you’re meeting the man who’s been assigned to make sure Jungkook’s well taken care of. And that includes ensuring he doesn’t leave the premises unless…

“That’s not an emergency.” He says. From the looks of it, he’s young. Possibly younger or even the same age as you are. He dresses casually, coming up from the floor just below. “No.” You hear him say immediately after Jungkook opens his mouth. Jungkook pulls him inside. “Please. Just this once.” He maintains his resolve but his hands ball up into fists by his side. Standing just a little shorter than Jungkook, it’s comical to see him frowning up at him as if Jungkook’s the one in charge. “Just this once? Are you forgetting what you did last time?” You assume he’s referring to the time Jungkook broke the agreement just to see you. “And I could’ve just left without a word again this time, but here I am, informing you, like a nice person.” “Please.” The young man scoffs and folds his arms. “It’s because my boss changed the security settings, and your biometrics don’t work anymore. That’s why you need me.” “Well yeah, basically.” “Eugh,” he balls his fist up again, “you are so annoying. Why can’t you just stay here like you were ordered to and not get me into any more trouble?” You go over to Jungkook’s side, hugging his arm. “He’s right. Let’s just stay in.” The boy’s eyes slide over to you for a second. But Jungkook doesn’t agree, speaking softly over his shoulder. “No, we’ve been here for ages.” “But I don’t want him to get in trouble. Or you.” Jungkook loses tension as you speak. You’re always so considerate. “But⎼” “Sorry to disturb you so late. We’ll stay in.” You cut him off and the look on his handler’s face softens, though still guarded. Jungkook pulls you aside, speaking in a whisper. “I thought you wanted to get out of here? And watch a movie?” “Not if we have to force our way out.” You reason. “We’ll be able to do all of that after you’re done here. We don’t have to rush things, we have so much time.” The corners of Jungkook’s lips twitch, holding back frustration. “It’s fine.” You say, getting him to look at you again. Behind him, the man clears his throat to get your attention. “I uh⎼ there is one way I can let you go.” He shares a sympathetic smile when you make eye contact, though he stares down Jungkook’s back right after. “I can go with you. I’ll have to drive you to where you wanna go. And I’ll stay with you throughout. When you’re done, I’ll drive us back. That way I have eyes on you at all times.” You look at Jungkook, raising your brows. He’s clear considering the idea, though he doesn’t want to show how moved he is that this young man is actually trying to help him out.

⎼

“Here.” Jungkook holds the ice-cream an inch away from your face. Each time you lean forward, he pulls it back, till you move too quickly and eventually have ice-cream on your nose. He giggles, wiping the dessert off your face when you glare at him. In his peripheral he catches sight of an unwanted presence nearby, and his attention separates from you momentarily. “Stop.” You shove him lightly. “Look at him, lurking.” “It’s his job.” You remind him and he rolls his eyes. “You should be grateful. He could’ve just ignored us and went back to bed but he wanted to⎼” “Okay.” Jungkook’s lower lip juts out. He continues eating his ice cream while sulking. Jaemin ⎼ you found out his name ⎼ had helped you out of the building and drove you to a nearby drive-through for ice-cream. Though you felt weird about it, Jungkook asked if there was a secluded place he could drive to. And now you’re at a peaceful picnic spot atop a hill, overlooking the entire city with no one else in sight. “You have to admit, it’s a great view.” Jungkook rolls his eyes once more and you tug on his ear. “Ow⎼ yes okay⎼ yes!” He rubs his ear when you let go, “Stop being a baby.” Jungkook glances at Jaemin, then leans in. “I have an idea. If we start having sex right now, I bet he’ll⎼” His laughter fills the night when you shove him once again, keeping himself steady with his other hand. You rest against him, hooking your arm under his and closing the gap between you. Your eyes settle on a tall building in the distance, a string of bright lights shining along the edges. It overshadows Namjoon’s apartment out of sight just behind it. “That’s a pretty one.” “That one’s prettier.” He points to a lavish mansion sitting elegantly atop one of the adjacent hills. “Okay fancy pants. A month at Namjoon’s apartment and you’re already acting like a spoiled rich kid.” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I’m just saying, I’ve been saving up all these years. Better be nice to me or you’re not invited.” You scoff. “Oh you’re too good for me now huh?” You pinch his side and he flinches, dropping whatever’s left of his cone, watching as it rolls down into the darkness. He glares at you and you press your finger to your lips to hide a smile before breaking out into laughter, Jungkook joining you. “Sorry.” You say between giggles.

He dusts his hands off before putting his arm around you. “You’re definitely not invited.” Your cheeks burn from smiling too wide, a feeling you’ve missed. Comfortably resting on him, your hands find warmth under his jacket. “Can’t wait for you to be free. Where are you gonna stay?” Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat. “I don’t know yet.” “You haven’t thought about it?” You ask mindlessly, playing with his fingers. “What’s the point of having a girlfriend if I can’t crash at her place?” It makes you giggle and he kisses the top of your head. “You’re welcome anytime. But on a serious note, it might not be cool if you stay with us long term.” “Kicking me out already…” You punch him in the chest and he jokingly whines about how violent you’re getting. An idea brews in your mind and you chew on your bottom lip. “Maybe…we could get a place together?” Maybe you were just imagining it, but you felt him stiffen up. Looking up, you see him staring at the view with a complex look, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Mm.” The indifference in his reply stings. It was a suggestion you thought he’d be on board with when you’ve basically been living together the last few days. “You can say no if you don’t want to.” “It’s not that,” he sighs, “there’s a lot of things that…” “What?” The next few seconds of silence stretches out into what feels like forever. Leaving you with the same nervousness bubbling inside the pit of your stomach you used to feel; he’s keeping something from you. Jungkook’s internal frenzy is cut short ⎼ and saved ⎼ by Jaemin, who calls out to the both of you. “Let’s head back. We’ve been out long enough.” Your bodies slip away from each other and Jungkook nods at him before turning to you, looking up at him with a vague expression on your face. He smiles to ease the tension and leans forward, lips pacifying your worries for a moment. “Let’s talk about this next time, okay?” He whispers. You push the negative thoughts far back, not wanting to ruin the night.

⎼

Over the next two days, Jungkook had been adamant about getting his way with Jaemin. Even when you insist on staying home, he shakes his head, bothering the poor handler every few hours about the next time he can leave the apartment. You sit by the kitchen island, staring at the glorious view of his back while he cooks a nice meal for the two of you. The only thing that had stopped him from bothering Jaemin was putting your foot down and threatening to leave. Reluctantly, he finally left the boy alone. Jungkook places a steak on your plate, lips slightly jutted as he continues sulking. “Thank you baby.” He sighs, placing the pan back on the stove and getting his own plate. “We could’ve had steak at a proper restaurant.” He mutters, taking the seat across. “But I like your cooking better.” The corners of his lips twitch a little. His cooking has always been good, so you don’t expect anything less. You hum at every bite, placing your hand to your chest with gratitude, and he watches you fondly, smiling wider at every little expression you make. That night, he tucks some stray hair behind your ear while you’re asleep. The covers are pulled all the way up to keep you from the cold. His fingers graze over the skin of your cheek and you stir, smacking your lips together, then breaking into a light snore. The front door plays a jingle as it unlocks. He turns his head in the direction of the hallway which reflects a soft glow from outside. He’s careful not to wake you as he slides off the bed and shuts the door safely and silently. In the dark, he trots over to the long dining table where Namjoon sets his coat over one of the chairs, undoing his tie. “What’s up? Why do you look like that?” He asks when he turns to a dishevelled Jungkook. “I haven’t told her.” Jungkook stands in front of the window, right next to Namjoon, who’s looking at him from the side. “You’re gonna have to soon. I just submitted the paperwork.” “It’s not that easy.” Jungkook says softly. “You want me to do it?” Jungkook had considered it. Maybe hearing it from Namjoon would make it seem more necessary, and that would hurt less. But that would be cowardly of him. “No. I think that might be worse.” “Just lay out the facts.” Namjoon says. “And tell her now before it’s too late. At least she’ll get time to process everything.” “I know. I’ll tell her tomorrow.” “Alright.” Namjoon slaps him on the shoulder. “Let’s go over the details.”

⎼

“What⎼ how?!” “I’m sorry!” Jungkook whines, and you snatch the knitting from his hands. The tangled yarn sticks to the needle, with the remaining yarn unravelled all over the floor. “I’ve never done this before!” “But how did it get to this?” Jungkook drops himself on the couch, “You said this would be relaxing.” “Yeah if you do it right.” You mutter as you try to free the needle. “This is literally impossible. You weren’t listening to my instructions were you?” “No, every time you talk all I hear is the melodious sound of your voice luring me into your world.” Your palm lands harshly on his thigh and a high-pitched yelp escapes him. The amusement on your end fades away when instead of retaliating, Jungkook folds over, clutching his thigh while letting out a guttural groan. Panic sets in when you realise where your palm had landed ⎼ right on his wound. Your hands slap over your mouth with a gasp, dropping the tangled web of yarn to the floor. “I’m so sorry!” You continue to watch with horror as he buries his head into his leg. The amount of guilt you feel is indescribable, you couldn’t imagine how much it hurt. But the guilt slowly dissipates when seconds later, he breaks character, raising his head and ending the dramatics with his bunny teeth making an appearance. “Just kidding.” For a moment he regrets his decision, the dead stare you’re giving him making his stomach drop. “You. Asshole.” Picking up a cushion, he shields himself from your attacks, and you hear his laughter coming from the other side of the cushion. You manage to pry it away and his eyes widen though his grin remains, and he blocks your next attempt, grabbing your wrists in time. Leaning in, your face hangs just inches away from his bunny smile. “You’re surprisingly strong.” He comments. “I’m angry.” “Cute and angry.” You growl for effect and he chuckles. Though he’s holding on tight, you’re no match for him. He easily lowers your wrists and pulls you in closer, but you resist. “Listen,” he laughs, “I have something to tell you.” At first you think he could just be messing with you to get you to stop, but playfulness switches into a genuine smile as he speaks. Your body relaxes out of interest and you fall back to the couch, letting your legs drape over his. He laughs at the speed of your transition, now looking at him with curious eyes. “I spoke to Namjoon,” he starts and you nod, “he says we can tell the others now. So if you want to, we’ll have them over for dinner or something.” “Oh my god, yes!” You burst to your knees, arms folding around his neck. “Let’s do it! When?” “Whenever you like.”

“Okay, we need to prepare though. Should we surprise them?” You muse over the thought. “Your choice.” Jungkook shrugs, picking up the knitting materials off the floor and throwing them into its original box. “Oh come on,” you grab his hands, palm to his cheek, “they’re your friends too. They’ve been worried about you. And I know you’ve missed them.” Jungkook smiles, “Yeah, I guess I have.” “They’ll be ecstatic!” You clap your hands. “So how do you wanna do it?” “Honestly…I think I’d just like a nice dinner with everyone.” His eyes glaze over. “I feel like we’ve never done that before. We’re always doing our own things. Either that or, we’re fighting. Dinner would be good.” “Aw.” You press your lips to his cheek. “That’s so sweet Jungkook.” “Also, I can’t wait to kick Hoseok off his high horse.” “And there it is.” You roll your eyes and shove him. “Well what about you?” He scoffs, “Didn’t you say no one believed you a week ago, and that you can’t wait to rub it in their faces.” You smile sheepishly. “Fine, so we’ll both rub it in everyone’s faces.” “Sounds good.” Jungkook leans in till his lips find yours. “Let’s go do some grocery shopping.” You tilt your head. “Did you run this by Jaemin?” “Ugh, I hate that you know his name.” Jungkook winces. “No. But I talked Namjoon into giving me some freedom befor⎼” “Before?” You watch him freeze for a moment, then shake it off. “Before I go crazy here.” You nod slowly, a little suspicious over his fumbling of words. But he carries on normally, shoving the box of knitting materials aside so he can go get ready, motioning for you to do the same.

⎼

Covered in black from head to toe with a hat pulled all the way down, covering his eyes, Jungkook drapes his arm around you as you walk around a lesser known part of the city. Every time you glance at him, or see his reflection on the window of the shops you pass by, you snicker. Only the bottom half of his face is visible, almost like you’re walking with a celebrity. A large supermarket comes into view and you go over the list of things to buy in your head. But as you walk by, his arm stops you from turning into it. Instead, the two of you walk on by. “Wasn’t that the…” “Yeah we can order online and put it on Namjoon’s tab like I always do.” He waves it off. “So then why did you⎼” “So we can go on a proper date. Ours got cut short last time.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Shall we go to a museum? Bookstore?” “I thought you hated museums.” “You love them though?” He asks lifting his chin so he can see you better. He slows down when he notices you do the same, face twisted with concern. “What if you get in trouble? We’re not supposed to be out and about.” Jungkook sighs. The arm around your shoulders drops down your back and you feel his fingers snaking between yours. “Didn’t I say I got Namjoon to ease up on the restrictions?” If you were being honest, a teeny tiny part of you doesn’t believe him. He tilts his head to meet your gaze and you see the wrinkles forming around his eyes as he smiles. “You can call him and check if you want to.” Then again, Namjoon had given him an access card which allowed him out of the building, one which he passed on to you to keep. Jungkook is sneaky but there’s no way he would’ve gotten a card without Namjoon knowing. “You can stand there all day thinking about it,” Jungkook shrugs, leaving you behind. He turns as he walks and you can only see his smile as he goes, “meanwhile, I’m gonna check out the new historial arts exhibition⎼” He breaks into laughter when you charge at him head on, pressing your head against his side and squeezing his arm against your body, sparkling eyes begging him to take you there.

⎼

“You always choose the worst ones.” Your brows crease together just as you bring the spoon to your mouth. “You’re literally eating cotton candy flavoured ice cream.” Jungkook rolled his eyes and complained when you dragged him to yet another ice-cream place on the way back, but easily gave in when you mentioned getting ice-cream on dates is our thing. He never realised it but it’s true. And he finds it absolutely adorable. A couple of bars stay open down the street and the clinking of glasses, live music, and mindless chatter echo into the night. The faint sounds of their liveliness continue in the distance as you and Jungkook chose a calmer spot further down. “Yours is called Love Potion.” He makes a point. “What the hell is that?” “This is what keeps you wrapped around my finger.” “Oh-ho, is that right?” You both laugh and he moves in to press his lips against yours, tasting the sweet white chocolate mixed with the tart raspberry flavour lining your lips. He hovers close by after. “Mm you’re right, that is good.” The mischievous glimmer in his eyes heats up your face. You never get tired of this feeling ⎼ of wanting to be with him, even when he’s this close to you. You wonder if this is what having a soulmate feels like. Is he your soulmate? It’s the first time anyone has ever made you question that. And it’s amusing to you how the thought pops up on a random Thursday night, sitting on a random bench by the road. Jungkook’s elbow nudges you gently, “What’s wrong?” Shaking your head, you break into a sheepish smile and feign interest in your ice-cream, swirling the melted parts around in the cup. Jungkook hasn’t seen that smile since the early days of your relationship. “Nothing.” He brings a napkin to your mouth, wiping off residual ice cream. And again, you feel that warmth, wishing he would stop staring already. But at the same time, wanting him to always look at you this way. It’s an hour after the time Jungkook had promised Jaemin to be back. Hand in hand, you walk back to the apartment building, and your smile lights up the night as you go on and on about something he’s only half paying attention to. The longer he looks at you, the heavier his heart gets. The guilt eating away his insides feels like it's about to let everything spew out of him. You’ve been the happiest he’s seen you in forever, and he knows what he’s about to tell you will erase it all away. Your hair dances in the wind and Jungkook watches your back while you look out at the view from a rooftop garden of a nearby subway station, taking yet another detour, and causing an influx of texts from Jaemin who’s tracking his location. Jungkook ignores them. “You really like it up here, huh?” He asks, and you turn with a smile. “It’s nice.” You say, turning back, admiring the pretty infrastructure. “Crazy to think living like this is normal for some people.” “Yeah.” His voice, suddenly appearing much closer, followed by his presence right by your side. Jungkook tries to focus on the lights, how the traffic almost looks like it moves in a rhythm. But his attention drifts back to you. Your chin rests on the back of your palm as you lean against the railing, eyes sparkling as you take it all in. “I’m gonna miss this when we finally get out of this city.” You chuckle, expecting him to join in and make a joke about living here forever under Namjoon’s tab. But it’s quiet on his end. His eyes seem to convey an emotion you don’t think you want to pull the thread on. “You look like you have a lot on your mind.” Jungkook smiles briefly, his light dimming almost as quickly as it appeared. “We have to talk.”

A loaded darkness wraps around his words, and it causes your heart to flip in your chest. It’s an odd feeling you thought you’d forgotten, but with it follows memories of the last year. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” You watch him swallow the lump in his throat. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I couldn’t find the right time.” “Does this have anything to do with your meetings with Namjoon?” Jungkook nods. “It’s about the case.” “Still? I thought it’s all over.” His fingers dance around yours, as if afraid to make contact. “It is. But…” Your eyes float between his, trying to decipher what’s going on. Inside, you’re bracing yourself for bad news; were they wrong about Kim? Hongjun? Were they alive after all? Has someone escaped from custody? Would someone try to kill you again? Mirroring his nervousness, you wrap your hand around his fingers, “Tell me.” “I’m leaving.” He spits those two words out like it pains him, shutting his eyes right after as he reads the confusion on your face. Your mouth parts as you try to filter out the million questions racing through your mind. “You’re leaving?” You shake your head and a nervous chuckle leaves your chest. “What does that mean? Like…you’re leaving me? Or? You’re leaving the city?” Eyes fluttering open, the distress is evident in his eyes now more than ever. He clears his throat. “I’m leaving the country. Till the case is settled.” “What? The case is settled.” You feel the rush of the blood through your veins. “Right? It’s settled. People were arrested, Kim is dead, Hongjun is dead, they’re all gone so, so, so why⎼” He squeezes your hand and you take a breath. “Not everyone was caught, that would be impossible with how big the organisation was. But yes, our biggest threats are gone for good. But it doesn’t mean I’m totally safe. They’re relocating me till the trial, which could take months at minimum, even years⎼” “Years?” Your voice cracks. “What are you saying? You’re gonna be away…for years?” Jungkook’s face twists in pain. Perhaps he had gone about this the wrong way, he should’ve brought it up gradually, gently. It would’ve been too much for anyone to handle. “You’re not serious.” You say, stilling the air around you. “Wait, is this why you’ve been meeting up with Namjoon so much?” Many different emotions course through your body, your mind finding it difficult to pinpoint what exactly you’re feeling. But it’s right there in the pit of your stomach, bubbling its way up to your chest. First it’s distraught, heart breaking into pieces at the thought of him having to leave, but then it morphs into something else entirely. Why had he kept this from you for so long? There were so many chances he had to break it to you. Your breathing gets erratic with anger. “When did you find out?”

“A couple of weeks ago…” His voice is soft, but you can’t tell if it’s because he’s lost his confidence or if it’s your hearing being overshadowed by the thumping of your heart. “And you kept this from me all this while?” You step back, slipping your hand away. “I didn’t know how to break it to you. I didn’t want to hurt you after everything that’s happened.” “And how do you think I feel now?” The words feel like a gigantic slap against his cheek, and Jungkook stands there out of words, feet frozen to his spot. As if watching his entire world crashing down in front of him, he stands there while you inch away, anguish swallowing you whole. “Wait,” he voice comes out hoarse, “please.” “No, I…” You flinch to stop the tears from dropping, and the sight kills him. You hold on to the railing as your world starts to spin. Looking at Jungkook only made it worse. “I need to go.” Despite your vision blurring from the tears, you don’t stop, even when you hear him call out to you. Only with your back turned to him do they wet your cheeks, and you wipe them away hastily, trying to get as far away as possible. The shrubs surrounding the dimly lit pathway feel like they’re closing in on you and you pick up speed, eventually running out of there towards the exit.

⎼

The resentment on your face was something he hadn’t expected. He knew you’d be devastated ⎼ he was prepared for that ⎼ but he hadn’t anticipated that you’d be mad at him. Enough to leave him there to bask in his own guilt. It takes a minute to process before he comes to his senses. The fog clouding his mind clears up, his hearing comes back and his feet finally move. What the fuck am I doing? He blasts himself, questioning why he didn’t start running the moment you turned your back to him. You’re no longer in sight, disappearing in the direction of the exit towards the subway. He runs as fast as he can, bursting through the doors and down the steps. “Y/N!” Only the empty stairwell hears his desperation. Please. Three floors down, he finds the exit to the subway, opening up to a long corridor, an exit to the road on the right and subway on the left. A handful of people walking by stare at him as he runs out the door. He pulls his hat down and sprints towards the station platform. A high-pitched sound comes from the platform as the train pulls in and comes to a stop. Jungkook jumps over the gantry, and scans the area, looking past several others there to catch the last train. He walks down the length of the train, occasionally bumping into alighting passengers. The lights on the doors light up, signalling it’s ready to shut, and Jungkook runs down the platform, zooming past the cabins while his eyes continue to survey inside. The closer he gets to the end, the harder despair sinks into his chest. Slowing down, a jingle plays as the doors finally shut and seconds later the train picks up speed, metal rattling against the tracks as it leaves the station. Jungkook pants, resting his arms on his head as he takes one last look around. No one. He leaves the empty station and stands by the roadside, taking a deep breath to calm his still racing heart. The silence of the night bothers him, a reminder of the fact that you’re gone. He let you go, heartbroken and hurt. And he’s alone again.

⎼

Sunlight peeks through the curtains, piercing your dull room with its bright orange glow. Outside, the hum of cars driving past and the chatter of kids walking to school can be heard. You barely slept a wink, and the pillow beneath you lies damp with fallen tears. Pushing yourself up, you trot outside to make yourself a cup of tea. The ruckus brings Hana out of her room, face easing into a smile when she sees you. “Oh hey,” she says, “what are you doing here?” Messy hair, crumpled clothing, and the moment your red, tired eyes meet hers, it was evident something’s wrong. Her face falls, and she’s over by your side within seconds. As her hand touches your arm, you break down, finding comfort in her arms. She runs her hand over your head as your tears wet the fabric on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?” “Jungkook…” you mutter between sobs.

⎼

“What the hell.” Namjoon barges through the door and sees a deflated Jungkook with his head down on the dining table, Jaemin sitting next to him. “What happened?” “Everything’s fine, sir.” Jaemin stands, holding his palm out. “I got a ping alerting me that you almost left the city.” Namjoon directs his frustration to Jungkook who still hasn’t graced him with so much as a look. “We had a deal, Jungkook. You said you wanted some freedom while you still have time here. And I agreed on the condition that you wouldn’t cause a ruckus or try to take off without telling anyone.” No response. Jaemin glances at Jungkook, then turns back to Namjoon. “I’ve checked cctv footage from last night, he wasn’t exposed, nothing putting him at risk of identification.” “We need to get hold of the footage.” Namjoon presses his lips together and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Already put in a request for that.” Jaemin says. “I’ll get to it now.” He grabs his coat and walks up to Namjoon, pausing to whisper, “He’s had a rough night. Go easy on him⎼” “Thank you, agent. You may go.” Once they’re alone, Namjoon pulls up a chair and looks at the miserable boy before him. Dead eyes, red nose, slightly swollen face. “You look terrible.” Jungkook blinks, finally showing signs of life. He lifts his heavy head and rubs his eyes. “I fucked up.” “I take it she didn’t take the news well?” Namjoon asks, knowing the only reason he would end up in this state is if it was anything related to you. “She was…angry.” He says, bewildered. Namjoon tilts his head from side to side, “I would be too if I were her.” “Then she took off, and I stood there like a coward.” He shakes his head. “She couldn’t even look at me…I’m so pathetic.” “Well.” “If you say I told you so I swear to god I’m gonna punch you in the face.” Namjoon presses his lips into a line. Then his features soften, “Give her time. Think about how shocked she must’ve been.” “But I don’t have time.” Jungkook folds his arms and looks off to the side, voice cracking. “In a week, I’ll be gone. This is all I have left with her.” “Do you want me to speak to her?” Jungkook wipes his eyes before turning back to Namjoon. “Do you think that’ll help?” He shrugs. “I could say it was my idea to keep it from her. Protocol or whatever.” “I don’t care what you say, just please bring her back here.” Jungkook says, head dropping to the table once again. Namjoon sighs, “Why didn’t you go after her?” “I did! But she was gone by then.” Jungkook says. “She must’ve got on the train and went back to her place.” “Is that why I got the location warning?” Namjoon checks the notification on his phone, confirming he was at the station. “I’m surprised you didn’t just hop on the train yourself.” “Yeah well, we had an agreement. And I knew I’d be out of chances if I had gotten on. Didn’t even have a ticket or anything, I jumped over the gantry.” “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” Namjoon looks up at him. “But thanks for honouring our agreement. Once Jaemin gets the footage, I’ll deal with it. And I’ll speak to y/n.” “Thanks.” Jungkook cracks a smile, though he doesn’t look any better than before. “Now go wash up or something.” He shoves Jungkook’s head lightly. “You’re so pathetic you got Jaemin feeling bad for you…”

⎼

After a cold shower, you sink into your bed, trying to find some comfort in the cool sheets. But turning on your side, your eyes make contact with the framed photo of the two of you on your bedside table. You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. Hana pads into the room, stopping by your bed and offering you a cup of hot cocoa. Eventually you sit up, accepting the drink and taking small sips. “What’s gonna happen now?” She asks, tilting her head. She’d spent an hour sitting with you on the couch, allowing you to let it all out. The news had come to a shock to her as well, and she’d spent the first ten minutes silently holding you while you sob. “He’s gonna leave.” You shrug, stating it like you’re trying to convince yourself more than her. “There’s nothing I can do.” Hana nods, oddly silent. She sits on your bed in thought, pursing her lips with her arms folded, “So…what are you doing?” “Nothing?” You repeat yourself. “I mean, what are you doing here?” She asks, chuckling like it’s amusing. You’ve yet to realise what’s so funny. “You’re telling me that your boyfriend ⎼ the one you spent the last month grieving so hard for because you didn’t want to believe he was gone ⎼ has to leave the country soon, and you’re here and not spending whatever time left you have with him?” Her question knocks you so hard off your balance that you sober up. “I⎼ I’m just…he should’ve told me sooner. He knew about it and he hid it from me.” “And that’s important right now?” You felt more judged than you’ve ever felt. “Seriously? Who cares? You want to waste time sulking? Have you thought about how he feels? Having to leave everything behind including his girlfriend, who he loves so much he almost took a bullet for?” “He did take a bullet for me.” You counter, as if that’s the pressing issue here. She raises her brows and tilts her head, the sassiest she’s ever been. “Really.” You take a deep breath. Why are you here? Like you said, there’s nothing you can do about it, so why harp on the fact that he kept this from you? You’re wasting precious time right now. When your eyes dart back to Hana, she smiles, knowing you’ve come to your senses. Getting up to your feet and scrambling for your belongings, you mutter, “You’ve always liked him better, haven’t you?” Her smug look waves you goodbye as you rush out, calling the first person that comes to mind to help you get back to Namjoon’s apartment.

⎼

Jungkook stares up at the ceiling, not having moved from the couch since noon. When Namjoon comes back after a meeting, he shakes his head at the disinterested Jungkook, who only spares him a single glance before going back to zoning out. “Did you call her yet?” He asks. Namjoon huffs. “I’m sorry, I had work to attend to. Your problems aren’t exactly at the top of my list right now.” “Okay.” Jungkook blinks, turning over to face the inside of the couch. Namjoon runs his hand over his face. To not have a comeback for his sarcasm tells him how bad things are. “Look I know you’re upset but you can’t⎼” His sentence stops halfway when the front door opens, followed by the tune it makes. It gets Jungkook curious and he turns to Namjoon who has his eyes set on the door. He gets up, and eyes go wide when he sees you standing there, smiling sheepishly with Jaemin right behind you. “Y/N?” Jungkook perks up. He gets on his feet with a sudden burst of energy and you run into his open arms, pressing yourself against his chest. “Jungkook. I’m sorry.” You say, tears rolling down despite your eyes squeezed tight. He doesn’t hear a word you say, feeling only the tightness in his chest at the relief that you came back. Namjoon nods to Jaemin and you hear the door close. “Sit down Y/N, I’ll explain everything.”

⎼

It’s been hours since you returned, and Namjoon and Jaemin have since retreated back to their apartments, giving you some privacy. Namjoon had spent some time explaining the move, but much of the details were redacted, not leaving you with a lot. Mostly because the information was classified. “Is this really necessary?” You ask. “Yes.” Namjoon says firmly. “In exchange for his cooperation, we’re offering him protection. Right now, as far as anyone knows, Jungkook or “Ace”, is being held at an out-of-state institution. That’s why we’ve had to keep him here since. If anyone knew he was somehow involved in the whole operation, he’d have a target on his back.” “Kim and Hongjun are dead, aren’t they?” “But there are others. And these people may have connections on the outside that we don’t know about.” You look at Jungkook, sitting idly beside you. “Sort of like witness protection.” “Something like that, yeah.” Namjoon agrees. “But we have enough evidence to tie them to the crimes. We don’t need him as an actual witness. But, we still need to play it safe till the trial.” Jungkook squeezes your hand, “It’ll only be a few years.” “Yeah,” you nod, smiling weakly, “I’ll call you every day.” “No.” Namjoon interrupts almost immediately, eyes wide in alarm. “No calls. We’re going no contact.” Your heart sinks even more, mouth agape. “What? But⎼” “That’s how it works; he’ll have a new identity, new job, new background in a new country.” He says, “He’s not going to be Jungkook anymore ⎼ and for security purposes we can’t disclose to you his new identity or where he’s going. As far as you know, Jungkook’s gone. The last time you saw him was the night of the raid.” You take a deep breath, frustration mingling with the grief in your chest. “And when he comes back in a few years? Won’t that be suspicious?” “In a few years selling the idea that he was held in a different state wouldn’t be a problem. He could say he got out early for good behaviour or something.” Namjoon waves his hand vaguely. “We’ll talk about that when the time comes.” In a different country, living under a fake name with little to no contact with anyone he knows here. You lie next to Jungkook, listening to him talk about the move. You keep your feelings in check, knowing how much more anxious he must be. You go quiet and he glances at you, zoned out. Nudging you, he gets on his side and places his palm to your cheek. “Hey. You okay?” “Oh yeah, sorry.” You smile, grabbing his hand. “I just got distracted.” You hate to make him worry, especially now. The one thing you can do for him is to make sure he knows you’ll be okay. “Is it about me leaving?” He asks. You shake your head and he gives you a look. “Liar.” You chuckle, sliding up and leaning against the headboard. “Five more days, right?” He looks at you with a blank stare, hating how casual you are about it. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay with this.” “I’m not.” You shrug, lacing your fingers with his as he slides up and joins you, “But Hana’s right ⎼ there’s no time to mull over how much this sucks.” Jungkook tightens his grip. “I should’ve told you sooner.” “Yeah,” your voice cracks a smidge and you clear your throat, “you’re a dick.” “Sorry.” He kisses the side of your head. “It’s fine,” you say, more so convincing yourself than him, “let’s make the best of the next few days, okay?” Jungkook nods, pressing his head against yours. The air feels heavy with your worries, wearing you down. His arm lays heavy over you as you lay there silently, looking out the window. Behind you, the absence of his snoring tells you he lies awake behind you as well. It’s evident that neither of you are okay with this, but the only thing that you need right now is to sit with those feelings. As uncomfortable as they may be.

⎼

The next morning, the news plays on the television, reporting on details of the case. Namjoon sits on the couch, paying close attention while Jungkook stays close by as he tidies the house, glancing at the screen every now and then. You tune it out, feeling all sorts of ways every time they bring up a trial. “How’s the media so fast with the info…” Namjoon mutters to himself, turning the volume down. “You’re probably not the only one with an informant,” Jungkook says mindlessly and he scoffs. “So, you ready?” Jungkook stops wiping the table down and stares at him. Namjoon goes back and forth between you two, picking up on the awkwardness. “No?” “Does it matter?” Jungkook shrugs. Namjoon’s shoulders drop slightly. “I know this is hard on you, but it’s the best case scenario.” “I get that.” Jungkook says, going back to cleaning. Avoiding further eye contact with Namjoon, the older man looks to you, and you shake your head, signalling him to leave it be. “Alright, I’m gonna go. And I’ll be back in the evening with your guests.” He says, nodding to you with a smile. You bid him goodbye as he leaves. Minutes later, Jungkook abandoned his chore, choosing to sit on the high stool of the counter, watching as you work on a batch of brownie batter. You smile up at him when you notice how intensely he’s staring. He then moves from his seat, coming up behind you, resting his head on your head and arms around your waist. “Chill, I’m not running away again anytime soon.” You joke, and he smiles. The two of you found the whole thing rather amusing after talking it out. But at the back of your minds, the pressing reality haunts the both of you. Your laughters drown out the anxiety of what’s to come. “Sure you’re not mad at me still?” He asks, peeking down. “Folding that batter rather harshly.” “Positive.” You say firmly. “Maybe a little…” He peppers kisses on your cheeks, squishing your face between his fingers and forcing you to drop the spatula into the bowl. “Better?” Your cheeks hurt from smiling wide. He traps you between his body and the counter, and you look up at him smiling down. “I love you.” You blurt out, and his smile drops for a moment. “I love you too.” He whispers, looking down. “I’m sorry. I wish…it could be different…” “Hey,” you stop him, bringing his eyes back to you, “we said we wouldn’t do that…” A solemn smile appears on his face. He nods at your words. “Yeah, you’re right.” It hurts to see him so miserable, perhaps even more miserable than you are on the inside. But harping on what can’t be changed is fruitless. The time you have left can be spent cherishing whatever you have now. “Now, why don’t you start preparing what we need for tonight?” You change the subject and bring him back to the present. It works in the moment, when you notice his face eases up, and he gets to work, opening up the cabinets to fish out the dinnerware. While he gets to work, you glance at him occasionally, wondering how he managed to keep up a front the last week you’ve been together, knowing he’d eventually have to leave. He looks up and smiles at you, and you feel a tug at your heartstrings, knowing you won’t be seeing that for a long time.

⎼

The mirror has seen Jungkook more than you have the entire afternoon. He puts on a simple blue sweater you picked and paired it with black jeans, getting a weird feeling in his tummy when he thinks about the dinner. Even though he denies it, you know he’s excited, jittery even, to see his friends again. While he waits, Jungkook practises his smile, then physically cringes at how ridiculous he’s being. Luckily you’re not here to laugh at him. You’d left a while ago, waiting for Namjoon and the others at the basement carpark. Jungkook flops down on the bed, trying to stop his heart from beating so fast. Meanwhile, downstairs, you stand near the entrance of the basement ready to greet the two black SUVs as they arrive. The first one opens up to a beaming Hana, excitement showing in her demeanour. If Namjoon had been in the car, he definitely would’ve figured out that she knows. Ten minutes later, Hoseok and Jimin’s car arrive and you see Jimin immediately darting towards you, going in for a hug. “Where’ve you been, stranger?” He asks, squeezing you. “Here and there.” You say, leaning into him. Catching up behind him, Hoseok offers you a warm smile, relieved to see you in good spirits. Once you pull away from Jimin, he steps forward. “First of all, I’m sorry about last time. We were jerks. I was a jerk.” You wave it off. “Don’t worry about that. I’m good now.” “Really?” He raises a brow, casting a doubtful look at your switch up. He finds it strange when you extend your arm to give him a hug as well, but doesn’t oppose. Namjoon shows up from behind, ushering everyone to the lift lobby. Everyone is quiet, paying close attention as he scans his biometrics, waiting for a green flash to appear before pressing the button to his floor. You giggle at their awed expressions. “I’ve missed you,” Jimin nudges you, “you’re okay?” “Of course she is,” Hana chimes in just as the elevator stops, opening up to the corridor. Namjoon leads the way, once again using his biometrics to unlock the door. “Look at this place. I bet it has a great⎼” “The view…” Jimin continues, pushing past you and Hana and going straight for the high windows. The other two join him and they gawk at the skyline, completely ignoring the nice table set up you and Jungkook had worked on. Hoseok shakes his head. “I always knew you were rich but you’re actually rich rich.” “Oh come on,” Namjoon scoffs, “this place technically belongs to my company.” “Still,” Hana shrugs, “no wonder y/n wouldn’t go back home.” She winks your way and you widen your eyes, trying to control the huge grin. Namjoon then takes it upon himself to hand out champagne glasses, “Here you go guys…thanks for coming over tonight. I really wanted everyone to be able to come together after…all that’s happened.” Everyone stands to face Namjoon as he speaks. Without realising, their glasses start to fill, starting with Hana. She turns to the server, about to relay her thanks, not thinking much about the fact that maybe Namjoon had a butler whose presence she had missed. But she goes for a double take, before words can even be said, and the man shoots her a charming wink before moving ahead. Hoseok’s glass is next.

“Congrats on the successful case.” Hoseok says, angling his glass to allow for a better flow. But he’s much too focused on Namjoon to notice anything. “I can finally stop pretending not to know you.” “Yeah, you killed it.” Jimin chimes in. “You don’t even know who he is.” Hana raises a brow at him. “I’ve seen him around okay?” Jimin mutters, watching the liquid fill his glass. He glances at the server and smiles, raising his glass. “Cheers. Thanks Jungkook.” Your smile grows wider as you watch Jimin freeze just an inch away from the glass touching his lips. Hoseok snaps his head to the man behind him, mouth parting and unable to tear his eyes away from the sight that he doesn’t even think is real. Jimin spins around, carefully studying the person standing an arm’s length away from him. Jungkook notices the twist of his face, one he always makes when he’s emotional. “Jungkook!” In his excitement, red wine spills all over the floor as he jumps towards Jungkook, holding him tight. Welcoming the embrace, Jungkook’s smile reaches his eyes and he lets his head drop to Jimin’s shoulder. “Hey, Jimin. Long time no see.” “Jeon Jungook, what the hell.” Hoseok mutters unbelievably. He turns to Namjoon for confirmation, as if the person he’s looking at might just be a figment of his imagination. Even as Jimin pulls away, collecting himself, Hoseok finds it hard to believe that it’s the same Jungkook he’d spent weeks checking hospitals for, the Jungkook he thought had fled somewhere far away. He’d gone through many different scenarios in his head, of when he would somehow see Jungkook again, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. Staring at him wide-eyed, almost as nervous as he is, Jungkook clears his throat. “Hi, hyung.”

⎼

Under the table, Jungkook’s hand finds solace in yours, squeezing every time the nerves get to him. He doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, but as soon as he sees your reassuring smile, he relaxes. You turn your palm over, letting your fingers lace together with his. Everyone’s impatience forced Namjoon to retell the story over dinner; how the plan came about and where Jungkook fit into all of it. As absorbed as you were the first time, everyone eats silently while Namjoon goes on. Seeing how Jungkook has barely touched his food, you lean in to whisper, “You okay?” Jungkook sneaks a glance at the others, all focused on Namjoon, “I feel weird.” He admits. His sweaty palms are a testament to that, as well as eyes that shy away from the others. “You’re doing fine. Just be yourself.” Jungkook nods, swallowing the lump in his throat as he tries to figure out how to do that. What does being himself mean? He’d always been himself around them, but that was his old self. Just as he’s getting lost in his thoughts, he feels the weight of three pairs of eyes turn to him. “I can’t believe you were his informant the entire time,” Hana says, “You played the role so well, I thought ya’ll couldn’t stand each other.” “Oh that wasn’t acting.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I actually can’t stand him.” Already anticipating such a response, Namjoon’s eyes roll as far back as they can go. Heart thumping at his first comment out loud, Jungkook sucks in a breath to calm himself. You give him a squeeze of his hand to let him know he did good. “And you never figured it out?” Jimin asks, side eyeing you. You punch him lightly and he pouts. “Hey, no one knew. You’re his best friend and you didn’t figure it out either.” “How did you do it?” Hoseok asks, and there’s a moment of awkwardness as everyone waits for Jungkook’s reply. “Must’ve been lonely…not having anyone to talk to about it with.” He takes a while to think, huffing a small laugh as he plays with the cut up meat on his plate. “It wasn’t easy…I had to keep lying to people. Which made things a lot more complicated because the lies kept coming back to bite me.” Everyone takes a moment, realising it’s the first time they’ve ever heard Jungkook speak so vulnerably. It’s new to him too, only ever being comfortable to open up around you. And Suga. “Probably didn’t help that someone kept meddling,” Namjoon says, breaking the tension. His eyes hook right on to yours, “Even after getting a warning. Multiple warnings in fact.” “I’m very passionate about my loved ones.” You stick your nose proudly in the air, earning a scowl from Namjoon. “Did you know?” Hana asks, avoiding your stare. “We went through such lengths to keep things from you.” Jungkook glances at you, smiling. “I had no idea. I just thought she was obsessed.” Your jaw drops as a round of laughs make its way through the table and Jungkook grins. He pulls you close to his side, squishing your cheeks. “I’m kidding.” He says. “I knew you were a meddler but I didn’t think it went that far.” “Yeah, you were basically running your own operation while we ran ours.” Namjoon shakes his head and you throw a broccoli his way, hitting him right on the forehead. He sits back in his chair, jutting his chin out with restrained annoyance as Jimin and Hana snicker across from him. Next to Namjoon, Hoseok watches on with a smile while you go back and forth, still finding it odd to be sitting on the same table as his friend and everyone else, especially Jungook. He sneaks a glance in Jungkook’s direction, only to find him already staring. Taken by surprise at the sudden eye contact, Jungkook blinks rapidly before finding interest in his food. You manage to catch the tiniest look of endearment on Hoseok’s face as he’s looking at Jungkook. His eyes then drift over to yours, eyes crinkling into a smile, which you return. Hoseok’s heart thumps in his chest, seeing the most genuine smile he’s ever seen from you.

⎼

After some persuading, Namjoon agreed to bring everyone up to the rooftop, where Jungkook and you often frequent. You were too excited to be able to share the view with your friends, hooking your arm around theirs, immediately dragging them past the pool towards the rooftop garden. Strolling behind, Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook walk at a steady pace. Jungkook walks a couple of steps behind the other two, snorting when he hears your voice in the distance, blabbering about something. Namjoon glances back, then bumps his elbow against his friend. Hoseok looks at him curiously, and Namjoon nods towards the back, and as Hoseok’s eyes dart to Jungkook, awkwardness wraps around his entire being. With a curt nod, Namjoon gets ahead, catching up with everyone else, leaving Hoseok and Jungkook alone for the first time tonight. In an effort to be the bigger person, Hoseok slows down to match his steps with Jungkook. They make eye contact the moment they walk side by side, and both huff out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry I’m just feeling a little…” “Awkward?” Jungkook finishes his sentence and they both laugh, then fall quiet again. “Feels weird when we’re not arguing over something.” Hoseok huffs, smiling as he nods in agreement. “How’ve you been?” “Okay I guess.” Jungkook shrugs. “You?” “Good.” Hoseok takes a breath. “It’s good to see you again.” Jungkook gets a weird feeling in his chest, something he hasn’t felt since he was a child. Faint memories of his family come back to him for some reason. “I thought you escaped somehow.” Hoseok says as they settle on the daybeds by the pool. He sits facing Jungkook, noticing his eyes drifting off to where you are, standing by the railing overlooking the view with the others. “She had a feeling you were still around though. We didn’t believe her.” “She’s always right.” Jungkook chuckles and so does Hoseok. “But I don’t blame you. Classic me move, right? Running away every time there’s a problem.” Hoseok’s smile drops. Seemingly unbothered by his own comment, Jungkook stretches his leg out in front of him, patting his palms on his thighs. All the times he’s criticised Jungkook comes to mind, wondering how much Jungkook must have internalised for him to be okay saying such things about himself.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.” Unsure if he had heard right, Jungkook’s stares at him wide-eyed. “What did you say?” “I’m really sorry,” Hoseok repeats, shaking his guilt-ridden head. “I’ve spent many nights thinking about how badly I treated you. It was horrible…” Jungkook smiles. “It’s okay.” “No, don’t say that.” Hoseok sighs. “Don’t let me off the hook so easily. I was always criticising you and telling you what to do, judging you when I didn’t even know you at all. You were right when you said I had a saviour complex. I kept saying that I was doing all that because I cared ⎼ and I did, I still do ⎼ but I went about it the wrong way.” “I should’ve sat down with you and tried to understand you. Then maybe I could’ve given you real advice. But instead I just ordered you around.” “I mean, I wasn’t the easiest to talk to.” Jungkook rubs the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “And a lot of what you said was true, I just didn’t want to hear it.” “It's hard to hear over someone constantly berating you.” Hoseok says. “At some point I even turned on you and let my feelings for y/n get in the way. Wasn’t till she told me off one day that it really hit me…you should’ve just socked me in the face.” “Trust me, I thought about that a lot.” Jungkook admits, laughing. “I’m kidding. Not gonna lie, you were annoying. But now that I can think clearly, looking back, I can see you meant well. Back then I had so many things on my mind, and your constant lectures were just something I couldn’t deal with. Which is why I was so defensive.” “You did have a lot going on…I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Hoseok offers an apologetic smile. “All that time you were actually in on the case with Namjoon.” “To be fair, before that I was just a menace.” Jungkook chuckles, and Hoseok realises he’s never been able to sit with Jungkook like this, hearing him laugh about silly things. “When I got involved, I had to bite my tongue from letting it slip every time we fought. I wanted so badly to tell you I’m trying, I’m trying to change.” It makes Hoseok emotional hearing that; it was all he ever wanted, for Jungkook to be a better person. Yet when it was happening, he didn’t even realise it. Regret seeps through his entire being. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” It’s something Jungkook can smile about now, though he remembers the frustration at the time. “It’s all good now. Water under the bridge.” Almost as if he doesn’t recognise the person in front of him, Hoseok tilts his head slightly, admiring Jungkook. The rude, indifferent boy no longer present, replaced with a level-headed version of him; mature yet surrounded by a youthful aura. “In the end, you did the right thing though. And all on your own.” Hoseok grins, “I’m proud of you.” The four words echo through Jungkook’s head and he looks away, feeling that ache in his chest again. What follows is an odd sensation of relief washing over him. The mix of emotions confuse him, and perhaps it’s because he never truly allowed himself to have such moments; the only ever person he would let himself be open with was with you. And now, he sits here, blinking away tears. Jungkook clears his throat. “I um…I wanted to thank you.” “For what?” “Just…” Jungkook shrugs, “I know that it was you who got Namjoon involved in the first place⎼” “I’m sorry for that too,” Hoseok buries his head in his hands, “I didn’t think things would get so serious. I thought it would be a simple crackdown and you’d be free. But this⎼ I didn’t⎼” “I know,” Jungkook says gently, “Namjoon told me everything. But also…for always being there for y/n. You care a lot about her and I appreciate it, you’ve always looked out for her. And I hope you can continue to do that.” Something about the way Jungkook said it made Hoseok feel uneasy. His tone had been ominous and loaded, there was definitely more to it. But before Hoseok has a chance to question it, Jungkook’s attention rips away from him and he straightens up happily, eyes hooked on to your approaching figure.

“Hey.” You plop down right next to him, “What are you two talking about?” “Stuff.” Jungkook says, stretching his arm out over your shoulders. Hoseok nods, “Stuff.” “Fascinating.” You say bluntly, then turn to Hoseok. “Have you seen the view? It’s ⎼” “We were actually just talking about how stubborn you are.” Jungkook cuts you off, winking at the man across from him. “Yeah,” Hoseok huffs out, puffing his cheeks and his head sways side to side, “remember when she made a deal with Hongjun and got herself in trouble?” “Oh yeah, how could I forget.” Jungkook sighs. “Can you imagine? Putting herself at risk like that.” Their heads spin to you, gauging your reaction. Just as they thought, you sit there with your arms folded, forehead creased with annoyance. You go back and forth between the two of them. “I don’t like this new dynamic.”

⎼

Jungkook tries to recall the last time his cheeks hurt from smiling too much. Or if he’s ever laughed as much as he has tonight. He’d sink into pockets of awkwardness at times, but it wasn’t hard to get back into the rhythm and pick himself out of that hole. It makes him think about the last few years, and how different life could’ve been and how much he might’ve missed out on. Across the room, you take turns to play a video game Namjoon put on, the four of you screaming every time a character is annihilated. Jungkook opens the fridge and stares mindlessly at the inside for a minute. Namjoon then comes up behind him, shuffling around the kitchen for some snacks. He finds a packet of chips and tears the bag open while his back leans against the counter. Feeling a pair of eyes trained on him, Jungkook looks over his shoulder. “What?” “Ready?” Jungkook turns back around. “For what?” He mumbles as he bends down to grab a can. “To break the news to them.” He says quietly, “Or are you not doing that tonight?” The fridge door shuts a little too hard and Jungkook winces. In front of the television, the other four remain unbothered, eyes glued to the screen. “I don’t want to ruin the night.” Namjoon shrugs. “Although I’m sure they’d want to know sooner than later.” “Weren’t you the one who suggested I tell them on the day I’m leaving?” “Yes,” Namjoon drags the word out, “that is usually how we do it. But I’m willing to close one eye and let you have a choice.” “I don’t even think I can do it.” Jungkook says, looking over at them again. How can he drop the news so casually after tonight? It’s taken months to reveal himself to them, and for them to find out that he was working with Namjoon the whole time, only to then break the news that he has to leave in a matter of days? His shoulder drops when Namjoon places his hand on it. “I could make the announcement for you?” Jungkook gives it a thought. The joy on your face is something he doesn’t want to see gone. If you can put up a brave front despite already knowing, then he can too. Thinking back to the promise he’s made to you, to enjoy the last few days you have with each other, Jungkook makes up his mind. He shakes his head, and Namjoon nods with a smile. Everyone will just have to forgive him once more in the future.

⎼

Jungkook fluffs the last pillow and sets it back neatly on the couch. Looking around, he exhales in triumph at how he’s managed to tidy up the place back to its original state. The quiet feels strangely odd, now that’s everyone’s gone home, even though it’s all he’s known in the last month. He grabs the trash bags you’d left by the kitchen, and steps outside to dump the last of them down the chute. Just before he makes his way back inside, Jungkook lingers by the doorframe, staring at the elevator where everyone said their goodbyes. “See you soon!” Hoseok said. And Jimin goes on about how he can’t wait for Jungkook to return to the house, thankful that they hadn’t cleared out his room. Jungkook could only smile, knowing he in fact won’t be back. After washing up, you enter the room to find Jungkook on the bed, looking through your phone with a towel around his damp hair. You climb on his back, taking a whiff of his body wash and sighing immediately. Jungkook’s smile stretches wider as he scrolls through the pictures you took tonight. Your chin finds a spot on his shoulder and you let your weight rest on him. “That was a nice night, right?” “Mhm.” He nods and you kiss the side of his face. “I was awkward though.” “But you did so well.” You reassure him, rolling off his back and joining him on your front, shoulder to shoulder with him. “Everyone was so happy to see you.” Jungkook’s heart swells, something he’s still trying to get used to. He passes the phone back to you and gets on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He still thinks about the conversation he had with Hoseok, how for the first time ever, they’ve spoken without getting into a huge fight. “It was so crazy. Hoseok apologised to me, you know?” “Did he?” You lie on your side, head resting on your palm. “Yeah.” Jungkook smiles as he recalls. “It’s weird I got kind of nervous…but also happy.” “That’s cute!” You chuckle. “Deep down you actually do like him, don’t you?” “I guess I do now.” Jungkook thinks back to the old days, when he would roll his eyes at the sight of Hoseok or the whiff of his cologne. “Back then he was insufferable. But tonight…he was kinda cool. Apologising and shit.” “Did you apologise?” Jungkook turns to you confused. “What? Was I supposed to?” “I mean you were pretty mean to him back then.” You say and he frowns deeper. “Remember when you almost got us into a crash?” Jungkook’s face softens when you remind him of that. “Hey…” You laugh at his disappointment in you bringing it up again, though you never actually got to speaking about it since that night. “What? It’s true!” “But you slapped me after.” He says, as a matter-of-factly. “Cause you almost killed us…” You say slowly and, “and then you almost beat him up.” “Well if you hadn’t ran off with him…” You gasp dramatically, getting on your knees to twist his ear. He cries out in pain, but a smile still lingers on his lips. Strong arms hold you in place as you climb on top of him. “I didn’t run off with him! I was running away from you! Because you⎼” He easily plucks your hand away from his ear with the way you back down, slowly remembering the events of the night that led up to his car chase. The image of him holding Hongjun in a headlock appears in your mind.

His playful gaze softens, thumb caressing the back of your palm reassuringly. “That was when you asked me to run off with you, wasn’t it? You were warning me about the operation.” Nodding, it feels silly now knowing he was involved all along. It’s no wonder he was so reluctant to leave. “That was when things started to make sense; your behaviour, the break-up, why you were so adamant on running away with me.” Jungkook chuckles, sitting up to get closer to you. His arms keep you in place on his lap. “Could you tell I was panicking?” “I didn’t realise,” you admit, “I thought you wanted to stay loyal to your friends…it was so frustrating.” He laughs but it’s cut short when he doesn’t see you joining him. Instead, your eyes glaze over, and he loses you in that moment. Only when the back of his fingers gently graze against your cheek do you return, eyes going back and forth between his.

“You had that same look,” he whispers. You swallow, trying to focus on what he’s saying. “Hm?” “That night, you had the same look on your face.” He repeats, tilting his head when you avert your gaze, “Right before you ran off.” You slide off of him, grabbing a pillow to hug. Jungkook mirrors your movements, crossing his legs and letting your knees touch. When the distress on your face doesn’t go away, he gets nervous, frowning when he realises whatever it is, is bothering you that much. “Is it Hongjun?” He asks carefully, reminded of how anxious you got previously. You wet your dry lips, suddenly feeling warm under his stare. The thought of Hongjun still brings back bad feelings sometimes, but it’s not what Jungkook thinks it is. “Not exactly…” you mutter, stopping before you say more. With all that’s happened, you can’t even remember if you’d asked him about the video. “It’s…you see before that…” you swallow your nerves, “I was⎼ ugh fuck.” “Hey, it’s alright.” Jungkook places his hand over yours. “I don’t want you to get upset…” You say quietly. He reaches under your chin to lift your gaze, gentle eyes greeting you. He smiles. “Tell me.” You take another deep breath, squeezing his hand. “Back then, Hongjun was still contacting me.” Jungkook nods curtly, paying close attention. “Well...he…” His body visibly tenses from the suspense. “Did he do anything to you?” “No,” you shake your head and let your fingers intertwine with his, watching his shoulders relax, “I don’t know where to start…” Jungkook tucks stray hairs away from your face and runs his thumb over your cheek. “From the beginning?” Recalling your contact with Hongjun felt odd, now that he’s gone, and the usual uneasiness in Jungkook’s expression which normally surfaced, no longer an issue. He seems to have internalised that Hongjun would never come back to haunt him. From the first time he’d sourced you out at the cafe, right down to the time he waited for you on campus, Jungkook listens attentively as you explain how Hongjun had wanted you to help him. None of it came as a surprise to Jungkook, it was exactly the kind of person Hongjun was; devious and manipulative. If he had known all this was happening, it would have been over for him. But now that he’s dead, Jungkook finds it regretful only because it caused you so much stress. “He said some things about you and some of the things you did for Kim.” You say. Jungkook nods. “He was manipulating you. He knew you were his best bet in getting me out of the picture.” “The thing is, I knew deep down that’s what it was. But I was also scared…” Your words trail off and he lowers his head to match yours, “Scared of…me?” “Of the things he said you did.” You squeeze your eyes shut but he cups your face and brings it up to his. “I’ve said it before, haven't I? None of it’s true.” “I know that, I believe you.” Jungkook searches your eyes. “But?...” “There was a video. Of you.” He shifts uncomfortably, eyes locked on to yours. “You were in a fight. And it looked like you won, but the other guy…”

Jungkook seems to catch on to what you’re referring to. There’s been many fights he’s been over the years but only a few come to mind at once. And he can’t think of many that anyone would have a video of. If he wasn’t nervous before, now he is. “Wait,” his forehead creases, “he sent you a video of me in this fight?” “Yes.” You breath out shakily. “I didn’t want to believe him when he said you were doing all sorts of terrible things to people because of Kim. He kept trying to convince me that you needed me to save you. So he sent me that video as proof that if I don't help you, it’ll only get worse and worse.” “What did you see?” Staring at him, you hesitate to carry on, but he raises his brows, urging you with a silent promise that it’ll be okay. “There were people cheering and screaming. It was really loud. And I saw you somewhere in the middle of all that, tangled up with someone. He was in a chokehold, in your arms…and then I think he…” Shaking your head, you refuse to go on, averting your eyes to where your hands have balled up the blankets in your fists. “And I know you said you don’t⎼ you’ve never⎼ killed anyone but⎼” “Calm down⎼” “I don’t know what went down that night but I know you would never I know they made you do it, and⎼” “Stop.” “And I’m willing to move past that, I still love you.” Jungkook shuts his eyes and heaves out, dropping his head. For a moment you think he might lose it, or breakdown, something. But the corners of his lips curve up and now he’s looking at you with a tender look in his glossy eyes. “Who are you kidding my love? You’d have sleepless nights if the love of your life killed someone.” “But I’m⎼” “Thankfully he’s not.” The amusement all over his face doesn’t help to convince you. You can’t tell if he’s already accepted a man’s death by his hands or if he’s pushed the memory so far back into his mind, he’s convinced himself it never happened. Both possibilities don’t sound so good. “It’s not funny.” “I know, sorry.” He smiles, taking your hands in his. “I didn’t kill anyone.” “I saw the video, Jungkook. It was a fight to the death, people placed bets on you. You won, he died.” Jungkook nods, “That’s what I thought happened too. I was chosen to fight but he volunteered, I didn’t know the guy, hadn’t seen him before that night. I thought he was one of Barome’s men. Trust me…you have no idea how I felt after the fight, thinking I’d killed him.” “Wait, so…” “He’s not dead.”

As simple as they are, the words would not process in your head. It just made no sense. “Wha⎼ How? Are you sure?” “Namjoon said so.” Jungkook says. “That guy might have been undercover too. He didn’t go into too much detail but I’m guessing they figured out a way to make it look like he was dead for real. Wouldn’t be too hard considering everyone was pretty much high or wasted that night. I wish he’d told me cause I was inconsolable after.” “I don’t even remember the fight or what led up to it. Someone must’ve slipped me something. But I would never kill anyone, only knock them out cold. I don’t even know how to kill someone like that. So when I found out what happened…it was like a nightmare.” “Oh gosh…” your stomach twists, “I shouldn’t have believed Hongjun…” “I don’t blame you.” Jungkook smiles reassuringly. “I believed it myself. He really wanted you to get me out of the picture huh?” “Yeah, and it worked.” You smile sheepishly. “That’s why I was so flustered that night. I made excuses for it…like maybe you were forced to do it or something. But then when Hongjun showed up and I saw you hold him in a chokehold till he passed out…” “It reminded you of the video.” Nodding as your heart starts to fill with relief, pushing away any thoughts you had before, you crawl into his arms and he hugs you tight. “That’s why I wanted us to run away together. I thought I was saving you. Sorry.” “Don’t be. I know Hongjun and this is exactly the type of shit he’d pull.” Jungkook sighs. “I was stupid to even take up his offer.” You say, pulling away and rolling off face down into a pillow. Jungkook’s palm lands on your ass, and you let out a yelp, turning to scowl at him. Chuckling, he rolls you back to your front, sliding on his side to rest next to you. “You literally never listen.” With a roll of your eyes, you playfully slap him. He cups the side of his affected cheek and gasps. “Another slap.” “A loving one.” Jungkook leans in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, one that has your body melting into the mattress. Pulling away far too quickly, he chuckles at your half-lidded eyes, feeling the exhaustion catching up to himself after all the excitement of the day. You get comfy under the covers as he turns the lights off and pulls the curtains back, allowing the brightness of the city to illuminate the room instead. Ignoring the space you made next to you, he climbs on top and rests his weight on you, melting your bodies together. You hum out a sigh. “Heavy.”

His body shakes with giggles, head nestled nicely between your bosoms. “But comfy.” Your body eventually adjusts to it, muscles relaxing beneath him, and fatigue slowly creeping over you. Fingers trace his scalp, easing him to closed eyes. “Thanks for coming back.” His voice fills the silence of the night. With no response, he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep, hands no longer stroking his head. But then they slide lower, rubbing his back soothingly. “Sorry for getting mad.” “Sorry for keeping it a secret.” “Sorry for conspiring with Hongjun.” Jungkook laughs, lifting his head. “Okay how far back are we gonna take this?” “I don’t know,” you grin and even in the dark he can’t stop staring, “but I am sorry.” “It’s not your fault.” He says, “Hongjun’s a master manipulator. He was just using you. Which is why I said not to engage with him.” “Like you said, it’s not my fault.” You shrug and he laughs unbelievably. Sliding up to meet his face with yours, the tip of his nose gently grazes yours. “I adore you, you know that?” His hot breath tickles, and a finger grazes over your face. “I know,” his head drops to your shoulder and you slap his back, “Jaemin told me you cried all night.” “I’m literally gonna wring his neck the next time I see him.” “Don’t be mean!” You say, “I like him. He’s nice.” Jungkook leans in closer, moving in to kiss you fervently.

⎼

In the middle of the night, your eyes peel open after drifting out of a blank dream, leaving you dissatisfied and tossing over to find a more comfortable position. Turning to the other side, your arm stretches out to reach for something to cling to. But it falls to the bed much to your disappointment. In place of Jungkook, his lived-in spot and a tossed over blanket remain. No sounds appear to come from the bathroom, so you slip out the door which was left slightly ajar. And standing in front of the windows, you see his lonesome figure, staring outside. Sleep hasn’t been an issue ever since you came, but you know some nights still give him trouble. “Jungkook?” Trotting over to where he is, you drag your slippers against the floor. He must have heard you, but he remains still as a statue. “Nightmares again?” Only a soft sniffle can be heard in the silence. And as you come up to his side, illuminated by the city lights, you see tears streaming down his face, tired and strained eyes avoiding you. A wave of panic rushes through your body and you cup his face, feeling its warmth spreading to your hands. “What’s wrong?” Jungkook shakes his head, turning away. But you persist, pulling him back to face you. Words struggle to leave him and you can only wrap around him, holding him tight as whispering soft words of comfort. His head slowly drops, tears dampening the clothes on your shoulder. As if scared to make a sound, Jungkook continues to cry silently, sniffing every now and then. His arms hold on to you so tight you can feel the beating of his heart against your body. Wishing you knew what’s going on in that head of his, you run a soothing hand down his back, waiting for him to calm down before trying to pull away. A while passes and you almost doze off yourself, resting against the couch. At some point, he had let up enough for you to tug him there, where he found comfort in your lap. The sobbing slows down, and you take a peek, finding him still awake and staring at the blank screen ahead. “You okay?”

He nods, cheek brushing against your thigh. “Talk to me.” You say gently, giving him time to gather himself. “It keeps coming back to me,” he says, shifting his body so that he lays on his back, looking up at you, “every time I close my eyes I see him, lying there on the ground…” “Who?” “Kim.” It comes out in a whisper, and he shuts his eyes like it pains him. After all this time, you still don’t know what happened that night. The news had reported a cardiac arrest at the time of confrontation, but you know it’s not the full story, because they weren’t there either. Only Jungkook, Namjoon, Seokjin and Kim would know what actually happened then.

You rub a thumb over his damp and sore cheek. He sniffles. “I close my eyes and I see him,” he repeats, struggling to continue, “I had to choose…between him…and…”With a hand over his chest, you feel the shakiness in his breath. He winces at the pain he feels inside. “Take your time.” You say softly. “I pointed the gun at him.” Jungkook continues with a strained voice. He sits up, feeling suffocated. “And the look on his face…I⎼ He was so disappointed, I know he was.” “Even after what happened at the club…he still trusted me y/n…” Jungkook says, “And I let him down. I betrayed him after everything he’s done for me. The moment he knew I wasn’t on his side, he⎼” Warm tears stream down his face faster than you can wipe them away. “His heart just stopped,” Jungkook says, with an empty look in his eyes. “It just stopped. Because of me. I killed him. He’s dead because of me.” Tears well up in your own eyes, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach at the sight of Jungkook so broken. Devastated by how he’s blaming himself for Kim’s death, you hush him. “Don’t say that.” “His last words to me were that he trusted me.” Jungkook whispers, hanging his head low. Embracing him, he’s much gentler this time, letting his chin rest on your shoulder. For so long, this has been bothering him with no one to talk to. So much so that it ended up eating him alive. Every night since Kim died, Jungkook has had the same recurring nightmare, one where he’s forced to remember Kim’s last moments, on the ground in that alley where he had revealed his alliance with Namjoon. Even if he did manage to get through the night, he would never feel fully rested. Kim’s death weighs heavy in his chest. He considers himself to blame, and no one can convince him otherwise. He was there that night, and nothing can change how it all happened, even if he so desperately wishes for things to have ended differently. “I’m so sorry.” You whisper, wishing you could absorb all the pain and let it consume you instead. “I didn’t know.” “That was the last time I saw him.” Jungkook says. “I still remember how cold his hand was against mine. He smiled at me, told me he trusted me. He left the company to me. To Suga.” Suga. Somehow you had forgotten about him. But you were also conscious of how Jungkook hadn’t uttered his name since, and figured it isn’t something he wants to talk about especially after the revelation of Jungkook as Namjoon’s informant. “And Suga…I let him down.” Jungkook sniffs. “I let him down. He saw the whole thing. The betrayal, Kim falling after.” Your heart beats wildly in your chest. What Mia told you before suddenly comes to mind; someone spotting Suga in this exact part of the city. It might be a coincidence, and it might not even be him, but you decide not to tell Jungkook yet. Knowing there’s nothing much you can say to snap him out of it, you comfort him in the only way you know how. Your presence keeps him grounded, and a tiny piece of the burden he’s been carrying lifts off his shoulders. Weariness overcomes Jungkook and his eyelids fight a losing battle. Not wanting to ruin his chances of getting some rest, you continue to rub his back, whispering words of comfort, and the two of you stay on the couch for the rest of the night with Jungkook snoring lightly next to you. His arm lies limp over your middle and you lay awake, staring at the ceiling as your thoughts cloud your mind.

⎼

“What about winter coats?” You flash your screen to show him one you found online. His nose scrunches up. “Don’t know if I’ll need it there.” “Which is where…” You zip your lip when he raises a brow at you, shaking his head. “You know I can’t tell you.” He stops, eyes darting around. “Wait, I don’t even know where I’m going.” Jungkook looks down at the open luggage by his feet, going over a list in his head. It’s filled with the necessities; basic clothing, toiletries, and some snacks stashed under everything. You lie on your front, chin resting on your folded arms on the edge of the bed. “Thinking so hard as if you have that much stuff to begin with…” He looks at you amused. Every time he starts packing, you get huffy and sulky, a habit of yours whenever he tries to leave after staying over. “I would stash you in here if I could but explosives are prohibited.” Rolling your eyes, you ignore the comment and hop off the bed. In front of the mirror, you fix your hair and check yourself out from each angle. He watches your strange behaviour from where he’s standing, “What are you doing?” “Trying to see if I still got it.” You look at him from the reflection. “After all, I’m about to live life as a single woman again in a matter of days.” Jungkook almost chokes on his own saliva, swiftly turning away from the wardrobe to see if he heard you right. “Excuse me what.” “Oh, Jungkook and I broke up. He got a scholarship overseas and it was too good an offer to turn down. We decided it’s best we focus on our own things for now.” It was the cover you both decided on if ever someone asks about him, but he hates hearing you actually saying it like it’s true. “That’s what I’m supposed to say, right?” “Only if someone asks.” He frowns. “And they will. You were insanely popular, Jungkook.” You say, “I’m just practising.” “For what.” “For when I go to the club,” you sing-song, “when I party at the Omega’s, or maybe one of the hot teaching assistants will hit on me.” You prance around as you list down the places you’d go as a free woman, Jungkook’s sharp eyes locked on you as you move. “No.” He says and you turn to see him already stomping towards you. You back off but he’s too quick and his long legs make for big steps that has you within reach in seconds, and suddenly you find yourself being thrown over his shoulder, a harsh slap landing on your ass. “I don’t like this.” He grunts. With one swoop, he shifts you into his arms and your vision spins from the sudden movement. The next moment, he’s placing you in his luggage, trying his best to fold your body in half just to fit you in whatever space he has left. You laugh as he tickles your sides to stop you from resisting, and the mischievous grin on his face grows larger as he zips up the portion where half your body’s managed to squeeze into. “Let me go!” You yell in a fit of laughter, one of his hands holding on to your wrists and the other aiming for your ticklish spots. “No. I’m taking you with me.” He giggles when you actually stop resisting and try to squeeze the top half of your body and head into whatever space is left. Your silliness clouds the sounds coming from outside, where Jaemin had allowed himself in, initially concerned at the sounds of your screaming. Praying that the two of you weren’t in the middle of some weird and violent foreplay session, he struts towards the room and stands at the door frame, wondering if he should even make himself known.

Jaemin sighs. “Should I be worried?” The unfamiliar voice startles you, and you let out a shriek that has Jungkook falling backwards. Jaemin shuts his eyes, regretting his decision to stop by. Hand over your chest as you catch your breath, you burst into laughter when you catch Jungkook’s eye. “Why would you do that?” Jungkook asks, unzipping the compartment where half your body rests. “I did nothing.” Jaemin says, eyes full of judgement as you struggle to get yourself off the luggage, managing to do so only with Jungkook’s help. “I came to check if you needed anything. Did you read through the list I handed you?” “Yes,” Jungkook pats the pile of clothes, “only packed the essentials like you noted.” “Good.” He smiles a little, the first time you’ve seen him do that. “Don’t worry about packing too little, we’ll provide you with new clothes and other stuff once we’re there. I just got off a video call with our point person too, the house looks good, everything’s sorted.” “That’s great.” Jungkook lets out a heavy exhale. “Just great.” The shift in Jungkook’s demeanour doesn’t go unnoticed. Jaemin glances at you for a second, “I’m nervous too. It’s my first time in charge of such a big task.” His confession was unexpected but strangely comforting. At least you know Jungkook won’t be alone. You are interested in how these two are going to get along, knowing how hard-headed Jungkook can be. “It’ll be fine.” Jaemin’s confidence lightens Jungkook's mood slightly, a tiny smile creeping its way onto his face.

⎼

“I’m not getting kidnapped, am I?” You watch the tall buildings slowly disappear, eventually leaving you with the view of clear skies, long roads and lines of cars as you get onto the highway. “Maybe you are.” His fingers squeeze through your fist and interlace with yours. “You’re coming with me.” “As hostage?” You scoff. “This isn’t my first rodeo you know?” Jungkook laughs. “Like I’d ever bring the snitch with me if I were running.” He braces for the punch that lands, though he knows it won’t hurt. Laughing adorably, he stretches his arm over your shoulder to pull you in closer just so he can wipe the pout away with his palm brushing over your face. “Stop it!” “I’m kidding,” he kisses the side of your head, “I’m taking you to meet someone special.” “Someone special?” On his face is a look you’ve never seen before; a mixture of anticipation and delight. Rarely does he ever get excited about anything enough to show it, and being this vulnerable is still something new. When he told you about a short trip, you expected one to the nearest department store to get essentials he might need. But the car gets further and further away from the city, and Jaemin continues on the route, the farthest he’s ever brought you both. After leaving in the morning, breakfast was from a drive-through and the car stopped by the side of a road near a park, allowing you, and Jaemin, to people watch as you eat peacefully. Then it’s off, without so much as a word from the younger man. He seems to know where he’s going though you assume it was entirely Jungkook’s idea based on how excited he is. You’re surprised Namjoon even approved this trip given how there's only two days left till his departure ⎼ something that’s been eating away at you silently. Two hours later, the roads begin to get narrower, and traffic gets slower. More greenery and houses come into view as you see a simple welcome sign by the side of the road as you enter a quaint and pretty town. Going past schools, apartments and houses, Jaemin stops the car at the basement level carpark of a mall. Scanning the surroundings, he stops only when he notices something, before the engine goes off. Turning in his seat, he hands Jungkook what looks like a burner phone. “Call if there’s an emergency. I’m on speed dial.” “You’re not coming with us?” You ask, genuinely surprised that he’s letting you off on your own in a random town.

He eyes Jungkook who beams from ear to ear. “It is a small town. And the threat is low here, so I can let you go for a while.” Apart from the phone, Jungkook is also handed two transport cards and a tracker, much smaller than an electronic tracker you’d see on offenders, just in the form of a sleek black band which he reluctantly hooks above his ankle. “Plus a black SUV driving around would probably stick out more than a couple taking a walk down the street.” Jaemin says, then stretches his neck out to search outside, pointing to an old blue and white Volvo parked on the opposite lot behind the SUV. You notice two figures sitting in the driver and passenger’s seat. “See that? That’s ours. They’ll be driving around town just in case. If there is an emergency and I can’t get there in time, I’ll activate them.” “Alright.” Jungkook says and you nod. “I’d still avoid contact unless absolutely necessary. Y/N, I’m gonna have to ask you to take the lead if need be.” “Sure,” you agree, watching Jungkook put on a mask and a cap. “And Jungkook, remember, this is your home⎼” “I know.” He cuts the man off eagerly and Jaemin takes the hint. “Send me a text when you’re done. I’ll give you instructions on where to go next.” “Got it.” Jungkook says, hand on the handle of the door. His enthusiasm is contagious, like a child on an excursion. Still, he waits for Jaemin to give the okay before practically prancing out, motioning for you to do the same. Hand in hand, you make it up the lift to the first floor of the mall, noticing how much slower and calm everything is. It’s unlike the usual chaos you’d find back in the city, with kids running around, talking loudly over the phone, and the less than friendly looks everyone gives each other. After a short walk, Jungkook stops by a flower shop. He spends a good five minutes looking through the fresh flowers in the fridge, contemplating on the perfect ones while you stroll around. Just as a bunch of tulips catch your eye, Jungkook comes up to you with fresh daisies in hand. “Who are these for?” You ask, complimenting his choice. “For the special person we’re going to see today.” “You still haven’t told me who it is.” He walks ahead towards the cashier and you tag along behind him, pausing as he does, and watching him reach over to grab a single rose stalk. Doe eyes smiling from under the cap, he offers the rose to you. Sheepishly, he turns as you accept it, heading straight for the counter where a young lady waits, having seen the whole interaction. She smiles knowingly, grabbing the flowers and skillfully wrapping them with brown paper. As she sticks the last tape over the bouquet and covers it with a sticker, she glances up curiously. “Are you two new here?” Jungkook’s elbow gently nudges yours. “Oh, no. We’re visiting a friend.” “Oh, how nice.” She says, eyeing Jungkook, who pays the amount in cash. “Well I hope they like the flowers!” “Thanks.” Jungkook says out of courtesy, then sneaking a glance at you when he remembers he’s not supposed to speak to anyone. Thankfully it didn’t matter to the cashier, who goes back to what she was doing prior after wishing you a lovely day.

Flowers were the only thing on Jungkook’s list, and the two of you then got on a bus just five minutes away from the mall. He only briefly checks the route information before confirming which bus to take. Still having no idea where you’re going, you follow him blindly, trusting that he’ll figure it out. Only two others get on the bus at the same time, a woman in scrubs who takes the seat at the back, resting her head against the window as soon as she gets comfortable, and a young man with headphones on, eyes glued to a game he plays on his phone. Throughout the ride, Jungkook is quiet, completely absorbed into taking in the scenes out the window. The flowers lay in his lap, held so carefully to make sure they don’t get crushed. You watch the way his eyes sometimes fall to the bouquet, and realise how special this person is to him. Who could it be? You wonder. Maybe Suga? But flowers are an odd choice. Unless he’s recovering from something. And why at this random town two hours away? Fifteen minutes later, you reach the stop. Jungkook presses the bell and taps your thigh to signal you to get off. As the bus drives off, it leaves the two of you standing amidst a gust of smoke from the exhaust. Awaiting his next direction, Jungkook slips his hand in yours. Without saying much, he crosses to the other side of the road and takes you on a stroll down the street. At three in the afternoon, the clear, blue sky puts you in a cheerful mood. You don’t even mind the long walk with how picturesque everything looks here. Brown leaves have fallen on the ground lining the pathway, a cool breeze picking up every now and then and the smell of bread being blown in your direction from a nearby bakery. Everyone walks without rushing, and cars drive by without revving their engines or honking. Your arms linked together swing in between your bodies. “It’s just up ahead.” Jungkook informs you. Though you’ve had plenty of time to spend with Jungkook back at the apartment, the change of pace and environment makes everything a hundred times better. What more, Jungkook seems to be in the best mood you’ve seen him since. “Jungkook.” “Hm?” He turns to look at you. “Is this your hometown?” You get your answer when his steps slow down for a second and his interest moves to the cracks in the pavement as you continue to walk. “How’d you know?” “I figured,” you shrug, “Jaemin said something in the car earlier, and you just seem so comfortable here.” He nods, squeezing your hand. “This is where I’m from. Things have changed much but…some things are still the same.” You’re dying to ask more, but his eyes glaze over as he sinks into his own memories of the place, and you can feel the homesickness practically oozing out of his bones. A part of him still feels connected to this place after all this time, even when it’s where he experienced his first and gut-wrenching heartbreak of his life. And ten minutes later, you realise why. It clicks the moment you walk up a small hill with a narrow pathway, lined with shrubbery. Upon reaching the top of the hill, it expands into a gated area where hundreds of graves lie. “Are we…” You trail off as he carries on walking, not letting go of the grip on your hand behind him. The one he’s looking for is further back, passing by rows and rows of others who have left, and a handful of other people who are here to visit. Jungkook eventually comes to a stop and you watch his back as he takes another deep breath. From up the hill, though it’s not much higher than the roads, a nice view of the town greets you, just enough to see the roofs of nearby houses.

Turning back, you see Jungkook take the first step towards one of the headstones. He stops right by the foot of it, and takes a moment to himself while you stay in your spot. Jungkook takes his cap off and pulls down his mask before kneeling on the ground to lay the flowers. He calls you over with a nod and there’s a tremble in your steps, feeling the jitters in your tummy. The headstone is a little darker than the others around it, but the lack of weeds growing around it tells you it’s cared for in some way. You kneel by Jungkook’s side, reading the carving on the headstone. Jeon Jung-Ah. “This is…” “My sister.” He smiles, teary eyed. While you make yourself comfortable, Jungkook brushes dirt off the stone and picks any stray growth around the area. He spends a long time caring for his sister in the only way he can, while whispering updates about his life to her. He fills her in on what’s happened, about you, and how he has to leave and won’t be able to see her for some time. “It’ll be years before I can come visit you again.” He sighs after, touching the headstone. You watch him from the side with admiration in your eyes, how he’s so soft and gentle while speaking. Jungkook looks at you. “Do you come back often?” You ask. “Only in the last couple of years.” Jungkook admits, knowing it took him far too long to build up the courage to come back. “For so long I’d left this part of me behind. I wanted to forget everything and everyone. But it always made me feel guilty, like I left her behind too.” “One night when I was sick of work, I decided to drive back here. I felt ill stepping back into town, bombarded with all the bad memories of this place, but I just missed her so much. It was right when I was starting to get disconnected with things at work, and Kim and Suga…I needed someone to talk to and she was the only person I wanted to talk to.” “So you ended up here.” He nods, scooting closer so your legs touch. “I can’t remember well but before I ran off I think I only ever visited her once. So I spent all night trying to find her. After all these years, being right here feels like home more than anything else. Even if she is…” The gleam in his eyes disappears, struggling to keep his emotions at bay. Your warm hand reaches for his on his lap, squeezing tight. “She’ll always be with you. In here.” You point to his heart and he chuckles. “Hey. That’s my line.” He blinks the tears away and leans in to plant a kiss on your forehead. He looks at you like he has a lot to say. “You know, back then I asked if she could send me a sign, anything, to nudge me in the right direction. And then shortly after, Namjoon appeared. I came back again and asked for another sign…just to be sure. And then I met you.” Hair blowing in the gentle breeze, Jungkook’s gaze on you is tender. He’s never shared this with you before, and the sheepish look on his face before turning away chuckling tells you he wasn’t planning to. “How lucky,” you say and he looks at you confused, “to have someone so special watching over you.” Jungkook smiles, never having thought of it that way. “Yeah, I guess I am lucky.”

“She’d be proud of you.” You nod. “Of the person you’ve become.” The lump in his throat grows larger but he swallows it down. His eyes start stinging and he curses himself for not being able to stop a tear from falling off the side of his face, quickly wiping it away with the back of his hand. “I don’t know.” He laughs. “She probably would’ve smacked me in the head if she knew what I got into.” “But it all led up to the you that’s here right now.” You say. “A smart, sensible, responsible and brave man.” “And handsome?” You roll your eyes, but feel relieved knowing he can joke at a time like this. “Yes. Handsome too.” Jungkook laughs, pulling you into his arms. Blue skies eventually turn orange as the sun starts to set, and the winds get stronger, blowing leaves across the plot of land. You say your goodbye to Jung-Ah and wait by the side to let Jungkook have some privacy. His fingers never leave her headstone as he speaks, and you know it pains him to have to leave her again. While you can’t hear exactly what he’s saying, his form is clearly more relaxed than before. You take a moment to look at the view, the orange hue resting over the town, birds flying overhead and the sound of kids laughing as they ride their bicycles home after a day at the park. You wonder which one of these roofs used to house Jungkook as a child, if his family were still there, and what would they say if they saw him now. Jungkook’s hand slips into yours and pushes the thoughts out of you. “Ready?” He asks, shoulders feeling lighter than before. You nod. “Are you?” Taken aback by your question, he stares out at the view. This place that used to be all he knew, then all he wanted to forget, is now a place he can no longer call home. Only bits and pieces of the memories he shares with his sister keep him tied here. There may be a lot to unpack, and while he’s settled one part of his troubled life, he doesn’t think he can handle thinking about the past again. “Let’s go.” He says, kissing your temple. The two of you head towards the location Jaemin had given, taking your time. Jaemin was already waiting at the spot, but says nothing when you climb back inside the car, only nodding in the rear view mirror before driving off. Jungkook looks out the window as he does, taking in every little detail. Who knows when he’ll be back, and if things might even be as they are now. Questions about his family still plague your mind, but it’s not something you want him to be burdened with right now. So you let him relive his memories with his sister; smiling at the streets they used to ride down, the school gate she used to wait for him by, the candy shop she’d share half her allowance money on to splurge on sweets with him, and the hill she now lay to rest on, awaiting his return.

⎼

The incessant stinging in your chest won’t go away. Neither will the lump in your throat, and your face muscles are tired from tensing up every time you feel a pinch in the bridge of your nose. Across the room, you watch Jungkook hand over his luggage to Jaemin, accompanied by two other agents. As the door shuts, his eyes search for yours and you don’t turn away in time to hide the pain. Before he can utter a word, you rush in the direction of the room. Standing at the doorway, he laughs when he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed with a pillow pressed against your face, sniffling into it. “I’m not crying.” You say, muffled. Footsteps approach and next thing you know the pillow gets pried away from your fingers. Jungkook caresses your frowning face, cheeks streamed with tears and eyes fresh with new ones about to fall. “It’s just that there’s something in my eyes.” Jungkook laughs again, and lowers himself to press his lips against yours. “It’s okay to be sad.” Grabbing his hands, you shake your head in disagreement. “I don’t want to ruin our last day together.” He hates that those words came out of your mouth, that there is even something as a last day together. “Crying won’t ruin it.” He states, “Actually, not crying would be worse. What? Can’t wait for me to leave?” Laughter leaves your lips, calming his own strained heart while the sleeves of your shirt soak up lingering tears. “You’re an idiot.” You say lovingly, landing your head against his chest. The last week of pretending everything is fine has come to an end. Pushing this move to the back of your minds was the only way either of you could fully live in the moment. But now, reality’s bursting through the doors, claiming its right to your happiness. Every night, you secretly wished for Namjoon to barge through the front door just to announce that Jungkook wouldn’t need to leave after all, the case is settled, Jungkook’s safety not compromised. But that never happened. “One last day.” The words sting. Even more for him, you think, though he does a good job of masking it. It didn’t take a lot to convince Jaemin this time, though you think he might’ve developed a soft spot for Jungkook now, or maybe it was out of pity that he’s allowed one last outing. Your apartment welcomes Jungkook with a familiar scent of lavender mixed with a pot of hot cocoa steaming on the stove. After a brief greeting with Hana who then left for class, he climbs into the comfort of your soft, squeaky bed. While you drop your bag of clothes in the corner, Jungkook’s eyes find the now wilted flowers on your table by the window. Rolling to his feet, he gently touches one of the wilted petals with the pads of his fingers. But his attention quickly shifts to a framed couple photo, next to one of your friend group. Thumb grazing tenderly over your face, he feels like a rope’s tightened around his chest. At your touch, his shoulders drop, your arms snaking over his waist, pressing your body against him. “You can have it if you want.” He arranges it back in place, shaking his head. “I have plenty.” “Good,” his hands cup your face as he turns, “you won’t forget me then.” “Never.” He kisses you. “I’ll die before that happens.” You giggle, getting on your toes for another kiss. “Same.”

⎼

“I can’t let you out.” The car slows down and comes to a stop by the street across campus. Jaemin looks apologetic. “I know.” Jungkook’s back faces you as his eyes stay locked on the scenes outside. Rolling the window down slightly, the hustle and bustle of the student body takes him back to boring lectures, laughing with friends, training sessions, lunch by the water fountain, the track field, walking to class with you. Leaving the first time was painful enough, but there was always a chance to return. This time, the future’s unpredictable enough to keep his expectations to a minimum. Getting into college was always something he yearned for, one of the only things he had spent years getting Kim to agree to. On the condition he would supply drugs from inside, Kim paid for his tuition, and that was one of the first times Jungkook felt he truly had a hold of his life. Now, it’s only something he can reminisce about. When your fingers slip between his, he squeezes tight. And as the car picks up speed, Jungkook bids a silent goodbye to his unfulfilled college dream. Eventually the building disappears in the rear view mirror, and he heaves out a loaded sigh. The frat house remains as Jungkook remembers it to be, just a little cleaner. Stepping into his room feels like nostalgia, like going back to his childhood room. An orange glow streams in from the window, specs of dust floating in the air. Most of his stuff now packed in boxes, thanks to you, leaves the room the neatest it’s ever been since he claimed it on day one, having fought Taehyung for it. Standing in the middle, slow steps as he takes it all in, Jungkook feels something tugging at his heartstrings. “Why is this so difficult…” He murmurs and you wipe the single tear that escaped. Sucking in a breath, he throws his head back to pull himself together. “This has been your place for the last few years, of course it’s going to be tough to let go.” You say gently, and he nods, running his palm over his cheek. Jungkook flips through a stack of notes on his desk, smiling as he recalls the late nights, stressing over assignments and other stuff that he didn’t bother with until he wanted to impress you with good grades. Organised by colour, his clothes hang neatly, just the way he likes them. Taking on a new identity also meant he’d have to dress completely differently, leaving him no choice but to let them go. Perhaps the other guys would want them. His attention shifts suddenly to the emptiness outside. “It’s so quiet.” Jaemin had contacted Hoseok prior, ensuring that none of the other guys would be around. Jungkook knew that, but it feels weird anyway; no clunking from the kitchen from someone messing up dinner, no screaming at the television over a game, no mindless chatter filling up the house. Things he didn’t think much of before, now he’s going to miss. Sitting quietly on his bed, you smile cautiously. You realise it’s best to let him feel what he needs to feel, to be able to come to terms with what’s happening. “What?” He asks, smile tugging on one side.

“Nothing.” You shrug, clocking the wicked smile he has on. “You’re cute when you’re serious. Like a rabbit sensing danger.” Finger under your chin to guide you towards him, he leans in and speaks in the teasing way he does. “Who’s the rabbit and who’s the danger here?” “You’re the ra⎼” Trailing off, your voice was barely a whisper as he brings himself closer, pressing his lips into yours in a gentle kiss. One that causes butterflies in your tummy and has you gasping for more. “Cute.” He mocks you. Jungkook’s mischievous grin is one you’ve missed, bringing you back to the early days of your relationship. Not that there’s anything wrong with sweet boyfriend Jungkook, but his assertive self always kept you wanting more. “Remember the first time we⎼” “Yeah.” Amused at how quickly you respond, his knee finds a place between your thighs, forcing you to scoot back. “Wanna re-enact?” “Like…like roleplay?” His brows raise. “Didn’t know you were into that.” “You never asked.” You simply say, earning a huff of annoyance from him. Hands grip your thighs on each side. “So you casually bring it up the day before I leave. So mean.” You giggle as he lifts your bottom half to shift you in the right position. Losing your balance from the sudden movement, your elbows give in, head thumping against the lone pillow, causing a blast of dust flying everywhere. Coughing uncontrollably, he pushes the window open, waving his hands around. Your laughter fills the room, clutching your middle as he struggles to catch his breath. “Oops,” you say between giggles. Furrowed brows turn into a big grin as he breaks into laughter himself. “Well that ruined the mood.” “Did it?” Your pursed lips keep his attention, until your finger hooks over your collar, tugging the material down to expose your cleavage. “How about now?” “Oh⎼ oh yeah, it’s back⎼” He dives straight for the exposed skin, peppering kisses as you laugh, ringing melodiously in his ear. The sound is something he never wants to forget; his insides feel mushy, and tingly, and exhilarated. The feeling intensifies with the charming grin on your face. Your laughter slows down, nodding to question his change in demeanour. The air between you feels light, and the world around you disappears in that moment you let yourself sink into his tender gaze. “What?” You ask shyly. “Nothing.” He says in a whisper, like he’s in a daze. “Good to know some things don’t change.”

Heads snapping to the side, Jungkook stiffens at the intruder only to sigh in exasperation. Shifting upright, he fixes his hair, directing his gaze to the carpet instead. “Do you ever mind your own business⎼” “Woah,” Jimin blinks, “deja vu.” “What are you even doing here?” “I live here.” At that moment, the old Jungkook comes back, clicking his tongue at the older one’s response. It only excites Jimin, having missed their constant back and forth. It’s just not the same annoying the others. “Feels like it was just yesterday when I walked in on you two lovebirds, and⎼” “And you still don’t have any boundaries.” Jungkook’s head tilt and raised brow doesn’t faze him, simply patting the younger one’s face, then pulling him in for a forced hug. “I’ve missed this!” “He misses it too, just too stubborn to show it.” He glares at you for the remark and you stick your tongue out at him. Jimin exhales obnoxiously, stepping back with hands on his hips. “Can’t wait for you to move back. Then it’ll be just like old times.” Jungkook stares back blankly, and Jimin doesn’t notice the lack of response, already looking through the packed boxes, planning to put things back to where they’re supposed to go. A couple of times, his mouth opens to say something, but he can’t utter a word. They would only be told tonight, Jungkook decided, despite Namjoon offering to do it early. The problem was that he didn’t know how to break the news. Hand on his shoulder to get his attention, you lean in to whisper, “Do you want to tell him?” Jimin continues to rummage through the boxes, taking it upon himself to remove some of the clothes you packed away. He rambles on about something neither of you are paying attention to. “I’ll do it with you.” You lace your fingers with his. Diverting his gaze to the carpet to think about it for a while, Jungkook then presses his lips into a line and nods in agreement. You nod encouragingly. “Jimin, there’s something you should know.”

⎼

The gentle breeze grazes over your skin, causing goosebumps to appear. It smells of fresh grass and earth, and a little hint of Jungkook’s cologne, with his jacket wrapped comfortably around your shoulders. Right by the river, a path stretches along its length, buzzing with cyclists, runners, and the public. Near the edge of the water, crowds of people sit on the steps, waiting for the light show display along a bridge which travels across the river. Higher up on a hill, far away from the masses, your thigh brushes against Jungkook’s, arm hooked around his and your head on his shoulder. Churro in hand, he brings the snack to you, humming as you take a bite. “That’s good, actually.” He agrees, taking a bite himself. “7 out of 10.” “Seven?” You tilt your head up. “This is an 8.5 at least.” “Still, it’s better than the ones you tried to make.” Licking sugar off his fingers, he ignores the way your jaw drops till you land a smack to his chest. You recall the time you decided to try making churros of your own, only end up charring most of them, and getting multiple burn marks from splattering oil. He, of course, had been there to treat your wounds while snickering at the fail. “You’re so mean.” Offering a kiss to your cheek as an apology, he reaches over the spread of food laid out before you on a picnic mat, grabbing your favourite mango pudding. Despite the pout, you welcome a spoonful of it and break into a shy smile as he looks on with a tender smile. “You know I love your terrible cooking.” He braces as your fist makes contact with his arm. “It’s not my fault you have expensive taste.” “I’m not sure wanting food to be edible is having expensive taste, but okay.” You can’t even fight the laughter that spills out, knowing exactly how terrible some of the things you make turn out. “When you get back, I’ll cook the best meal you’ve ever had, you’ll see!” Jungkook chuckles, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Can’t wait.” You lock eyes for a little longer, till the sounds of amazement and cheering float through the crowd below as the light show begins. Streaks of rainbow coloured lights shine up into the night, as water jets activate at the same time, with music playing in sync. It’s a show you’ve seen many times before, and every single time it amazes you. But this time, your attention towards Jungkook remains undivided. You tuck the stray hairs behind his ear. “It’s getting long.” He smiles at your comment while you continue to fix his hair. “Maybe I’ll grow it out.” “Long hair?” Your nose scrunches up. “I don’t see it.” “You might not even recognise me when I come back.” You tilt your head in the way he finds adorable. “I’ll more likely forget how to make ramyeon before I forget how you look like.” His brows furrow. “Odd thing to say considering you can’t even make instant noodles without drying out the soup too much.” You huff. “That was one time and I was distracted because you were parading around the house naked.” “Yeah, you like that huh?” “Oh shut up.”

Jungkook’s laughter feels like a snug embrace, keeping you safe from the chaos of the world around you. His head drops to your lap and he welcomes your touch, tracing figures over his skin. “You’re so mean tonight. Giving my cooking so much flak.” “Oh baby, I love your cooking.” He sighs. “It reminds me that no matter how perfect someone is, they have to suck at one thing.” Yelping at the onslaught of pinches on his side, Jungkook flails about, reaching for your hand. Leaving the comfort of your thigh, he gets to his knees, now gripping both your wrists and sending a kiss to your scowl as he gets behind you, crossing your arms over your body. Back resting against him now, legs clipping you tight between him, he forcefully keeps you pressed against him, keeping your arms down. “You’re strong.”

“You’re annoying.”

His cheek rests against your head, ignoring the squirming till you give up. “You laugh, but you’re gonna miss it.” “Yeah.” He says, a little calmer. “I will, actually.” With your back against his chest, you feel the thumping of his heart, comforting and calming. There’s a comfortable silence that falls around the two of you. “How…how long do you think it’ll take?” You ask the uncertain. “I don’t know.” He says, loosening his grip when you shift to get comfortable. “Trials usually take years to even proceed with.” “Years.” You echo it to yourself. You straighten up, so you can shift between his feet to face him slightly. He doesn’t let go of the chance to press his lips to your cheek. “Isn’t it unfair? We’ve only just got the chance to be together again…like normal people.” “I’ve never done long distance before.” You say, and you feel the shift of his head as he smiles. “What?” “Long distance.” You repeat. “That’s what we’re gonna be till you’re back.” Jungkook swells with confidence at this new way of putting it. “I like that.” You smile shyly. “Did you know that 60% of long distance relationships work out? The key is communication.” “Someone’s done their research.” Jungkook’s tickled by your sudden announcement. “You’re cute. Communication’s gonna be a little hard though.” “You’ll write to me, won’t you?” “Of course.”

Sighing, you recall the rules Namjoon had gone through with you about communication. Strictly none allowed. But, he’s willing to allow letters. They’d have to go through them though, and will be read through before handing over to each of you. “I’ll write to you every month.” Jungkook says. “It’ll probably take weeks for it to reach you anyway, and to wait for you to respond.” “I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on here.” “There is a problem though.” “What?” You turn to him with his brows furrowed and deep in thought. He blinks. “How will you send nudes?” You shove his face, enough you send him flying back and he laughs, falling to the grass. “Irritating.” He jolts himself back up, peppering you with apology kisses and you accept them willingly, tilting your head enough for him to sneak down your neck as he sways your bodies side to side. “But you know I was thinking,” he kisses, “if you do want to press pause⎼” You freeze, wondering if you heard that right. “I’m just saying, we don’t know when I’ll be back. And I wouldn’t want to hold you back if you end up meeting someone that you think you’d hit it off with.” Jungkook looks at the back of your head, unmoving, and wonders if you were considering it. “Of course, I don’t want that. I love you but I also want you to be happy and if that means⎼” Your palm comes into contact with his cheek. It was a slap, but so gentle and soft that he wonders if it even happened. You do it again, more like a tap this time. “How could you say that? You think I could ever be happy with someone else?” “I don’t want to hold you back.” “Then you should’ve let me go before we got serious.” A little hurt flashes across his face. “After everything, you still think I’d rather be with someone else?” You say softly, caressing his cheeks, eyes softening with concern. “You’re my boyfriend. I love you. Only you.” He smiles just a little. “Sorry. It was just a suggestion.” “A terrible one.” You throw yourself into him, wrapping around his neck. “I can never be happy with anyone else but you.” “Really?” “You silly goose.” Jungkook visibly relaxes in your arms, feeling idiotic to have even brought that up. The night goes on as you lay there in each other’s arms, looking up at the night sky as opposed to the light show. Grey clouds inch towards where you are, slowly hiding the moon away from you. Jungkook stares at your side, taking in this view of you. When you do the same, Jungkook moves in to plant a kiss, savouring it till thunder starts to rumble above you. Just as you make it back to the car where Jaemin rests, it starts to drizzle. Jaemin turns in his seat, frowning when Jungkook pauses by the open door. He turns his back to the car and sees you standing a foot behind him with your palm up to the sky, letting the raindrops touch your skin. Stepping away from the car, standing before you, wet strands of hair sticks to his face. And as the rain gets heavier, the two of you seem to share the same thought. His hand clutches yours, giggling as the two of you make a run for it, ignoring the yells coming from the car. Back up the hill, in the open space, Jungkook and you dance and frolic around in the rain, laughing your hearts out gleefully. He lifts you in his arms, spinning you in circles as you extend your arms out, welcoming the rain as it washes all your sorrows away. He sets you down gently, and you brush the hair away from his face. “You make me so happy.” You say over the rain. “I love you more than anything.” “I love you too baby. You're my whole world.” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand in his. “I’ll wait for you no matter how long it takes.” Jungkook kisses you fervently in the rain, drenched and shivering, with nothing left to lose.

⎼

Trees sway in the wind, and lighting flashes occasionally followed by the rumbling of thunder in the distance as the storm continues to pour down. The heavy rain caused a massive traffic jam below, but thankfully you managed to return before getting caught in it. In the comfort of the apartment, warm and dry, the lamp in the corner casts a dim orange hue perfect for a cozy night. Jungkook’s lips move gently against yours, knuckles grazing your cheek tenderly as his arm keeps you steady around the waist. Your hips sway against his, fueling the tent growing under his sweats. Lips slightly sore and swollen, his doe eyes stare into yours when you break the kiss, resting his head against the headboard behind. The bittersweet feeling of having to part from you, something he’d been suppressing, starts creeping into his heart, Finger tracing over his lips, his eyes fall shut as you go over his features; his eyes, nose, cheekbones, jaw. Your touch always does something to him, something so calming and natural about the way you move against him, even if it’s just the touch of a finger. The arm around you instinctively pulls you closer, just so your bodies meet, making it easier to capture you in another kiss, one much hungrier than before. Out of breath from his intensity, you pull away to calm yourself. But Jungkook doesn’t stop, pushing off from the headboard, leaning forward to press kisses to your cheek, trailing over your jaw and down to your neck. The moment he finds your sweet spot, your thighs squeeze around him in response and he hums against your skin when you start to rock your hips against him. His hands slide up your sides, tugging your camisole along with them up and over your head, exposing your bare breasts to the cool air. Rough hands cup them in his palm, thumb grazing over your erect nipples, and your body twitches at the sensation. You bite your bottom lip as he takes one of your tits in his mouth while kneading the other. When he takes a nipple between his teeth, your hip bucks in response, and he groans at the friction. Flips your positions, he now hovers above you, fitting nicely between your legs. His shirt comes off easily much to your delight, hands grazing over his chest. The dim light casts shadows over his body, giving him an ethereal glow. Jungkook grins at the obvious excitement in your expression, finding it absolutely adorable how you can’t hide the rise of your cheekbones, choosing to hide behind a tight-lipped smile. “You like that, huh?” His mouth hovers over yours, whispering against your lips while his hands snake down your body, and under your shorts.

You hum when his fingers fondle over your folds, and you return the favour, hand slipping past the hem of his sweats, exhaling at the sudden contact of your palm to his cock. Foreheads sticking to each other, Jungkook sucks in a breath as you rub against him. Two fingers slip inside you, and you lose all focus, gripping his cock, unmoving. Fingers slipping in and out of you keeps you distracted as you try to chase that high. The curve of his fingers hit the right spot each time, having memorised you well. Delighted at your response but protesting your lack of movement, he takes it upon himself and bucks his hips, fucking into your grip. Jungkook pauses, and your heart sinks at the loss. As he peels your hand off him, Jungkook tugs down your shorts, sucking in a breath at the glistening sight before him. Legs now spread before him, Jungkook slips four fingers into your dripping hole, cock twitching at the way you writhe. Sheets balled up in your fists, your chest heaves as you feel the rush of adrenaline flowing through you, and it only takes the thrilling sensation of Jungkook’s warm breath on your cunt, sucking on your clit, to have you seeing stars. Your sweet moans fill the room as you ride his face, bucking your hips wildly. Jungkook licks every last bit of your cum, giving your cunt a kiss before sliding up to let you taste yourself. Jungkook gets on his knees and you watch as he removes his sweats, cock springing up proudly against his abs. Finding the strength to sit up, crawling towards him, your doe eyes look up at him for permission. “Fuck.” He can never say no. Not when you look so pretty. Just at the sight of you, his cock starts to throb. It twitches the moment you start with a kiss to the base of his shaft. Taking your time, you plant sloppy kisses along his length till you get to the top. And the moment your mouth wraps around his tip, Jungkook’s body melts into the mattress, heat rushing through him, rewarding you with his sensual moans. He watches how his cock disappears into your mouth as you take in his entire length. Fingers wrap around your hair as he gently rocks his hips against you. He watches how his cock disappears into your mouth as you take the entirety of his length. His fingers wrap around your hair, as he gently moves his hips against you. “Oh baby⎼” A rush flows through his veins when you look up at him. Both hands now covering his length, twisting your wrists as you pump, your mouth pays special attention to his tip. His hips buck up in reflex, and you almost gag from the sudden movement, but recover quickly. A guttural sound escapes him and he pulls your head back, slowly removing himself from you, then tapping his cock against your tongue as his pre-cum leaks all over it. “Good girl.” He purrs, and his cock glistens as you lick every last bit of him. Sitting back, Jungkook lets you climb on top, positioning your entrance with his dick. With his hands on your hips, easing you down, your thighs tremble as his tip enters, letting out a sweet moan as you lower yourself down all the way. Jungkook doesn’t realise how he holds his breath as he watches you take all of him, and he lets you have a moment, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips when he sees the pure look of ecstasy on your face. As you start to move, he’s hypnotised by the sway of your hips, the bounce of your tits and the blissed out expression on your face. A goddess in his eyes, it forces him to sit up, sucking the skin against your collarbone. Palms on the bed to keep him steady, Jungkook leans back to watch the way you move, and you heat up under his gaze.

He can’t keep his hands off you, running them across your soft skin, wanting to touch every inch of you and claim your body as his alone. Thrusting his hips up while you grind, reaching deeper each time, you gasp at every time he manages to hit the spot. A loud smack echoes as his palms land against your ass, and you yelp out in pain and pleasure, disrupting your flow as your hips twitch, and he growls at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. You giggle as you fall forward, struggling to stay up, using his chest to support you. He glows at the sound of your laughter, watching you hover over him with your faces barely touching. “Do it again.” As you say it with such innocence, yet sensual tone, Jungkook thinks he might go crazy. His arm wraps around your waist as he lands another smack, and you jump, bouncing down onto his cock, nails digging into his shoulders. “Like that?” You nod, embarrassed at the request and your body’s reaction. But Jungkook can’t get enough of it, the strangled whimpers you make as his palm meets the skin of your ass again, and again and again⎼ till you cry out, shaking as you cum, convulsing around his cock and he rolls his hips to let you ride it out, tenderly rubbing the sore spot on your ass. Warm, sticky liquid flows down his hard cock and you bite your lip bashfully. But it turns him on even more. Your back drops to the mattress, and the two of you are separated momentarily, till you feel him prodding against your entrance once again. Jungkook’s heart races when you smile at him, suddenly reminded of that ache in his chest. You gasp when he slides in, easily this time. Hands caging you in on each side, Jungkook brushes away the hairs sticking to your face as he starts with long and slow strokes, fully absorbed in the erotic sounds you make, with sensual eyes staring up at him. His pretty eyes sparkle above you, staring deep into yours, memorising every bit of detail. His gaze drops down to where your bodies connect, the gentle thrusts of his hips against yours, your hips rolling up in sync, where you become one with each other. The ache in his chest grows, threatening to spill out, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. But then you pull him in for a kiss, slow and intimate, lips melting with each other, and the ache manifests into something more familiar, the intense adoration he holds for you, wanting to worship your very being. You taste a hint of saltiness in the kiss, and then realise the stray tear fallen down his face. Your thumb caresses his cheek with concern, and he leans into your touch, whispering, “I love you.” It pierces deep into your soul, intoxicating you with thoughts of him and only him. A garden blooms in your chest, fueled by your feelings for him. Time seems to stop in that moment, and you drown in his eyes, choking on your love, heart pounding in your ears. Only you and Jungkook exist in this moment, souls tied together by an invisible string. He is yours. And you are his. Forever. Jungkook picks up the pace in his thrusts, and your legs wrap around him, allowing him to hit deeper. Skin sticking to each other, with your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, your bodies heat up, hearts beating against the other. Jungkook peppers kisses on your chest, mouthing against your nipples while you moan at every thrust. He starts to feel the clenching of your walls, groaning at the way it sucks his cock in every time. “Baby…” you whisper, hands on his chest. “Yeah?” He kisses the crook of your neck. “What is it, my love?” Overwhelmed by a wave of emotions, they rush through your body, tears forming in your eyes. Memories of your time with him come to mind. From the very first time you saw him at the cafe, your first kiss, to the time he took a bullet for you, and everything in between.

Jungkook captures your lips in a kiss, in an effort to soothe you, but it only adds fuel to the fire burning in the pit of your core. He picks up on it, pushing himself up to grab your hips, angling it in the way he knows would hit the spot that has your eyes rolling back. Pounding into you harder, a string of moans from you makes his dick twitch inside. The tension in his core tells him he’s close, and he digs into the flesh of your hips. You reach for him, and Jungkook presses your bodies together once again, maintaining his pace as he rolls his hips with yours. “Jungkook,” you murmur, breath hitching. Your mouth parts, and chest starts heaving, and he knows you’re close. You force your eyes open as you feel it coming, cupping the side of his face as tears stream down yours. “I love you too.” You gasp as the tension snaps, legs shaking around him and body shivering as you dig your nails into his shoulders, orgasm spilling out of you in waves. As you convulse around him, mixed with the lewd sounds coming out of you, you feel the throbbing of Jungkook’s cock, and seconds later with a strangled moan against your ear, Jungkook spurts warm liquid inside of you, mixing with your own cum. The sound of his breathing is all you can hear apart from the throbbing of your head, as he rests his head next to yours, body warm and heavy on top of you. Arms around his middle, you kiss his shoulders where you’d left marks from before. Jungkook’s disheveled hair, half-lidded eyes and silly smile greets you when he finally gets the energy to lift his head. Your body shivers as he removes himself, still sensitive to the touch. He lies down on his side, next to you, wiping the tear stains off your cheeks. Neither of you say a word, knowing all there is to say has been said. You press your head to his chest, listening to the sound of his heart, beating in rhythm with yours.

⎼

The storm carried on till morning, now simmered down to a drizzle, and the skies remain cloudy and gloomy. In the car, next to Jungkook, your head rests on his shoulder, hugging his arm with your fingers interlaced. Every now and then his hand would squeeze yours, grounding him in the moment. It’s a long drive, though you were thankful for the morning traffic, giving you a little extra time with him. Neither of you barely got any rest last night, just laying in each other’s arms, eventually dozing off close to sunrise. The car drives out of the city, onto a long stretch of a highway. It finally turns down an exit with minimal other cars going in the same direction, driving ahead where greenery slowly turns into open land, dry and deserted. The other cars drive past as the car slows down nearing a rest stop, pulling up into the parking lot, void of others. It’s the only building for miles and miles, a diner in the middle of nowhere. Jaemin lowers his window slightly, awaiting a thumbs up from the waitress through the side window of the diner, before pulling up into a slot. It must be their own people. While the rain had stopped as you left the city, the clouds seemed to have followed you here, gathering above and announcing their presence with the rumble of thunder. Droplets of water begin to race down the windows as it starts to rain again. “The others should be here soon.” Jaemin says, checking his phone. You look at Jungkook, smiling at him as you contemplate on saying your goodbye right here. He pulls you in a hug, nestling his head on your shoulder and memorising your scent. The act alone brings tears to your eyes, knowing it’ll be one of the last times you’ll be in his arms for a while. But you pull yourself together, “It’ll be okay.” You whisper, and he nods. Soon, two other cars enter the lot, five minutes apart. The door slides open and Namjoon steps out, nodding to the driver and Jaemin before sliding the door to your car. “Good morning.” He exhales, extending a hand out to Jungkook, helping him out. Two other agents stand beside them, holding up big black umbrellas, sheltering them from the rain. From the other car, Namjoon gestures towards the rest, and Jungkook sees the familiar faces of his friends, each happy to see him. Bracing himself, he swallows the lump in his throat, glancing back momentarily when he feels your touch on his back, encouraging him.

“I’m kinda nervous but here goes,” he heaves out, looking around at the three of them. “Thanks for coming down to see me, I know this was super last minute, and I don't have much time, but I just wanted to say thank you for sticking around, and for being my friends, back then and now.” “Things have been crazy the last few months; I got shot, almost died, my girlfriend got kidnapped,” he shakes his head and the others chuckle, “it’s just been a lot, and I’m sorry for getting you guys involved in any way.” “As you’ve all heard, I'm gonna be away for some time.” He pauses when you sniff, sneaking a glance at you. “For how long, I don’t know. And unfortunately, it’ll be off the grid, so you won’t be able to reach me until I eventually come back. If I come back. We don’t know what the future will hold so⎼” Jungkook falters backwards when Hana rushes in for a hug, a tissue crumpled in her fist. “We’ll be waiting.” He wraps his arms around her shoulder, and she pulls away, dabbing the tissue against her eyes. “Take care, okay? Come back safe.” “Of course. Thanks Hana.” Jungkook sighs as he turns to you, tearing up after seeing her do the same. “I know she’s really stubborn and all, sorry I won’t be there to keep her in check, you’re just gonna have to deal with it I guess.” You land a punch on his back and they laugh. “Look after her for me?” “I definitely will.” There’s a sad smile on her face as she shakes his hand, before stepping to your side, rubbing a hand on your back. Jimin steps forward, lips quivering, the area around his eyes slightly red from crying. “My baby boy.” He says, cupping the side of Jungkook’s face. This time, Jungkook doesn’t even mind, smiling in response. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” His voice goes up an octave as he pulls Jungkook in for a hug, patting Jungkook’s head like he’s the one crying. “Me too, hyung.” Jungkook grins. “Gonna miss your constant barging into my personal space.” “I know you will.” He nods, making Jungkook laugh. “You take care. Eat well. Watch all those shows I’ve been asking you to.” “Sure.” “Don’t roll your eyes at me.” “I didn’t⎼” “You’re doing it right now.” Jungkook sucks in a breath, a familiar irritation brewing, something Jimin is an expert at bringing out. Jimin laughs at the glare he receives, messing up Jungkook’s hair. “Sorry. I just had to one last time before you go.” Jungkook visibly relaxes, laughing along with him, and extending his arms for another hug. Hoseok smiles where he stands watching them. When Jungkook turns to him next, he walks up to the younger boy and they face each other for a beat, neither knowing how to navigate this awkward situation. “Come on guys,” Namjoon motions for the rest to get inside, “let’s give them a moment.” When the door slides shut behind him, Hoseok shakes his head, “You idiot.” Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise, till he sees the smile growing on Hoseok’s face. “You should’ve told us sooner.” “I didn’t know how to…” Jungkook shrugs, “It’s like I keep bringing everyone bad news.” “We care about you, you know that right?” Jungkook swallows a lump in his throat. Hearing that from Hoseok is something else. “I⎼” “Even if it is bad news, we’d want to know. So we can help you.” He smiles. “You’re not alone in this life, Jungkook. You have us.” Hands trembling, and failing to stop the tears from racing down his cheeks, Jungkook sniffs, wiping his face with his sleeve. Hoseok extends his hand and Jungkook takes it only to be pulled into a hug. It’s unnatural at first, until Hoseok pats his head. He gets the same feeling he got when they were talking on the roof; a hint of nostalgia, the same feeling he used to have as a child when he spent time with his sister. His body eases into Hoseok’s hold. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Stop that.” Hoseok orders, though he’s breaking out into tears as well. “I mean it. I caused a lot of trouble.” Jungkook sniffs. “Thanks for always looking out for me, and thinking of me. You’re…you’re the big brother I never had.” Hoseok’s grip tightens as the words come out of his mouth. He wishes there was more he could do, part of him still feeling guilty over how things went down between them. “Stupid Jungkook.” He giggles when he pulls away. Jungkook’s glossy eyes and red nose, and Hoseok’s tear stained face makes the other laugh. They wipe their faces bashfully. “You come back soon, okay?” Jungkook nods. “I have to ask you a favour.” Hoseok tilts his head in question. “While I’m gone, please look after her.” Jungkook glances back, though he can’t see you through the tinted windows. “She has a knack for getting into trouble. And if anyone, I think you’ll be able to keep her out of it. I trust you.” “Of course.” Hoseok grins. “But only while you’re away. After that, I’m gonna have to start charging for babysitting services.” Jungkook nods, chuckling. “But if you so much as try to make another move on her, just know that I’m gonna beat you up.” Hoseok laughs, and it’s the first time Jungkook thinks he’s ever heard his laugh, now realising how warm it makes him feel. “Don’t worry.” He takes a more serious tone. “Everything will be fine here, just know that we’ll all be waiting for your return.” “Thank you.” The rain starts to get heavier, and Jungkook gestures towards the car as he slides the door open. “You should get inside. It’s starting to really pour.” Namjoon and you exit the car as Hoseok slips inside. You grab hold of his hand as another car enters the lot, Namjoon with a knowing smile directed at you. “There’s someone else who needs to say goodbye.” Jungkook tilts his head adorably, rubbing his red nose. He eyes the car, which stops next to the ones you’re standing in between. Namjoon gets the door, bringing the umbrella along. Jungkook watches as he comes back around, with someone else walking closely next to him. His eyes go wide. Disregarding the rain, she runs right into Jungkook’s arms, hugging him tight. Still processing it, he tilts his head to make sure he’s seeing this right, before wrapping around her shoulders. “Mia! How’d you⎼” “I called her.” You say. “Told her everything.” “What the hell.” She slams her fist onto his chest, while still resting her head on him. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook chuckles. “About which part?” “Everything.” She says, pulling away, wiping her eyes. “Why did you carry that burden all by yourself? You should’ve told me. I could’ve helped you.” “I couldn’t put you at risk like that.” “Of course you couldn’t.” Jungkook touches the part of her head where a bandage is. He sighs. “I’m fine now.” “Of course you are.” He chuckles, an adoring look on his face. “I’m glad you’re okay. Now that we’re free, promise me you’ll get into college, and find a good, safe job.” Mia smiles though she struggles to keep her lips upturned. “I’ll try my best. When will you be back?” “Not sure. It’ll be a while.” Her shoulders slump in resignation. “Do you really have to go?” She turns to Namjoon who presses his lips into a thin line and shrugs. “I have to.” Jungkook sighs. “But don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” “I know.” Mia nods. “I’m gonna miss you, boss.” “I’m not your boss now,” he raises his palms, “you’re on your own kid.” She giggles. “I’m gonna miss you. Thanks for always looking out for me. I owe you.” “No you don’t. Go live your life.” Jungkook pulls her in for another hug. “I’ll miss you too.”

As another car pulls up, the agents start moving around you. As Mia joins the others in the car, Namjoon gestures towards Jungkook, making your heart race, hands slipping into his, squeezing tight. “We’re ready.” He says, speaking to the both of you. “I’ll go with you about halfway. You’ll be handed over to Jaemin and the local handler after.” Jungkook nods, turning towards his friends. It feels surreal, looking at the four pairs of eyes watching him with a mixture of fondness, despair and solemness. “It’s time. I have to go now. I um, really enjoyed the dinner we had, and when I come back, I really hope we can do that again, if you guys like.” “We’ll hold you to that.” Hoseok says. Everyone wishes him their last goodbyes and hugs, and he looks at you, nodding. Hand in hand, you walk with him towards the car parked on the opposite side of the lot. While you have made peace with it, you can’t help the tears that stream down your face. Jungkook’s cold hands come up to the side of your face. “I’m sorry.” Shaking your head, your hands fix his jacket, pulling it tighter around him and placing your hands on his chest. “Is it too late to request for me to come with you?” His eyes crinkle at the corners. “I told you to get in my suitcase.” You laugh, and he gently grabs on to your hands, holding them up between you. Your finger brushes against the metal around one of his, a familiar ring which catches your attention. “Do you want your ring back?” “No,” you suck in a breath, pulling out the necklace with the ring he gave you, clutching it in your fist. “You said we’d exchange this when we’re free to be with each other.” “We are free to be together.” He grins, “Just very very far apart.” You shove him playfully. “Keep that. It’ll keep you safe. A piece of me to have with you.” “Baby, you’re always with me. In here.” He points to his heart and smile widens at the way your nose scrunches up. “Silly.” His laugh dies down eventually, and you can hear the time ticking, counting down to the exact moment you’d have to part. “You know how much you mean to me right?” Jungkook says, running his tongue over his lips that have suddenly gone dry. “As much as you mean to me.” You nod. His lips quiver, and you see that little boy from a small town, losing his sister, having to leave his family in pursuit of somewhere to call home. The scared little boy who only wanted somewhere he belonged. “I love you so much Jungkook.” You say, clutching his hands. “I love you too, Y/N.” With your arms wrapped around each other, you let the warm tears stream down your face. He tilts his head to kiss you, soft and gentle, melting his lips into yours. With one last look at you, he breaks away, leaving only your intertwined hands. Behind him, Namjoon stands with his back towards you, sheltering the two of you with an umbrella. He slides the door open, a cheerless smile on his face as he turns to you. Pressing his lips to your forehead, soothing the ache in your heart, and his, Jungkook’s hand slowly slips away from yours. The emptiness you already feel, physically and emotionally, takes the breath out of your lungs. Hana hugs you tight in the car, wiping the tear stains off your face. As you’re about to leave, your cars stop right next to each other just before exiting the rest stop, about to head in opposite directions. The windows roll down, both yours and his. Hair blowing in the wind, he flashes his charming smile, one that you've ingrained into your memory. I love you. He mouths. As the cars inch forward, turning into opposite directions, Jungkook blows you a kiss, and you to him.

From the rear window, his car carries on down the long road ahead, eventually disappearing from sight, dragging your heart along with it.

⎼

Hi my love, I hope you’re well! I’ve settled in nicely here. I wish I could tell you more but you-know-who’s looking over my shoulder right now, reminding me about the million things I should be careful about while writing this, and is annoying me to death. Other than that, it’s not too bad. Although I’m already missing you terribly. They say I’m gonna have to look for a job and I’m kinda nervous. I’ve never been to a job interview before. And I’d have to wear a tie! I think it’s ridiculous but you’d like that though, wouldn’t you? Miss you. Hope you’re eating well, staying warm and out of trouble. I hope everyone else is okay too. Please give them my regards, will you? I’ll talk to you soon. Love, J.K. P.S. send nudes.

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #bts fic #rainworks #mine #rough edges

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