#but they're the words I needed someone to tell me for weeks so if it can help anyone <3< /div>
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imjustdreamingig · 2 days ago
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Isn't that sweet, I guess so
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Part 1, Part 2
pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
summary: The secret's out, Steve's proud of himself, and you can't seem to keep your mouth shut
A/N: chat there is no way I put out 2 fic in the past week, this has never happened to me before! yay everyone cheer. again, i have no idea where this story is going how far im gonna go, i def want to try writing other stuff and idk if this is the best place to put and end to whatever this series is but again, we shall see i guess. thank you all so much on the love on my last two works you have no idea what that means to me! please please PLEASE send me asks or comment what you'd like me to write next or if you want a pt4 i need help people
warnings: sfw, swearing, fluff, idiots who like each other
Facing your fears is tough. No matter what it is, no one would actually choose putting themselves through a situation in which they know would cause them extreme distress. For some that may be going on a rollercoaster, interacting with a clown, going into a dark forrest alone, it could even be making a phone call by yourself to schedule a doctor's appointment (which is a valid fear to have, thank you very much.)
And here you were, facing your fears: being sat in your living room with Steve Harrington 3 feet away from you for an extended period of time. It's only been about 15 minutes, where no talking has happened since minute two.
You hope you can get to 30 minutes without fainting.
As you attempted to focus on the book in front of you, Jane Austen's words, who usually kept your focused for hours on end, were not being absorbed by you in the slightest. How could they, when Steve fucking Harrington was in your house.
Steve is the type of guy who Jane Austen would write about, you thought, eyes flickering towards him as he hunched over his book, face crinkled in concentration, trying to understand said author's musings.
The swoop of his hair, the two moles near his neck, his deep, beautiful, chocolate eyes, his gorgeous smile, and my god those arms? Yep, Jane would be absolutely obsessed with him.
"God, why did I agree to do this book?" You are snapped out of your daze at Steve's words. "What do you mean?", you replied. He gave you a look that can only be described as "seriously?"
"I mean, that I can barley understand what any of these characters are saying half the time, and honestly, it's a bit boring. I thought you would have better book recommendations," he said, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face.
A scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. "Excuse me, are you actually hating on Pride and Prejudice, the best romance story of all time, the romance story, period." You leaned over and snatched his book. "I mean, come on! You are literally only 6 pages in, you can't just judge it that quickly, you haven't even gotten to the good parts yet!", you exclaim.
Steve watched you with an amused look on his face, unbeknownst to you, who kept rambling on, trying to convince Steve this book was worth continuing.
"— and Elizabeth, she is just funny, like actually hilarious. There is one part where she basically tells someone that I'd rather not be wasting my air talking to someone like you, like please, how did she even come up with that? Also, I'm just obsessed with this proper English style of speaking, or writing I guess, because they're basically talking shit but covering it up with fancy words! And when—"
"You talk a lot, don't you?"
You look up from the book and towards Steve, eyes widening slightly, realizing you had indeed been talking too much.
"One of my greatest faults, some may say, and by faults I mean my mom, but she only tells me this when we're arguing, so..." You glance away from Steve's face for a little reprieve. God, he's so hot.
"Well, like a good partner," you continue. "I'm trying to help you get some of this project done, and maybe if Robin were here, she could've helped," you defended yourself, crossing your arms, "which I'm still confused about, by the way. You said something about her telling you earlier how I invited you guys and some other people to work on the project together, but then she doesn't show?"
Steve leans back in his chair, also crossing his arms. You glance down for a quick second and send a quick thank you to anyone who's that Steve is wearing a tight shirt that beautifully enunciates his biceps. Or maybe you should be mad at them, you don't know yet.
"Maybe it's the fact that she noticed, like I did, that it's been a month since this project was assigned and we haven't even started," Steve countered, "which is unlike you, you usually want to get stuff done ASAP."
You look at him in confusion. "How the fuck do you know that?"
Steve smirks, "I also happen to know that you don't have a sister, thanks to that lovely dinner with your mom." You shake your head in disbelief, mentally making a note to yell at your mom later.
"Isn't that what you said one of the many times I asked you to work on the project?" Steve looked so amused with himself, all cocky and proud that he had uncovered your lie. Your brain tried desperately to come up with a realistic enough explanation, but nothing was coming up.
You throw your hands up in defeat. "Ok, fine! I lied! Is it just so hard for you to believe that maybe, just maybe, not everyone in that high school wants to spend time with you outside of it?" Oh my God, why the fuck would you say that, you screamed internally.
Steve stared at you for a second before letting out a chuckle. " You know, I did think of that actually, but only for a bit." He reaches out for the book and grabs it from your grasp, flipping to a random page.
"You can only run away from a guy so many times before he catches a hint," he peers over at you, " and I mean literally, you're a fast runner, did you ever do track?"
"Yeah, in middle school," you answer quickly. Steve lets out a hum of agreement before placing his attention back on the book. You open your mouth, about to quip about being careful to not rip the pages when he speaks again. "I know I'm dumb, but I'm not an idiot, ya know?"
Your gaze snaps to his face. "Steve, I don't think you're dumb." He doesn't look too convinced. "Eh, I think you do. But you're interesting, you took me a lot longer to figure out than the others since girls just typically throw themselves at me."
You make a face of disgust, "Ok, you sound like a total prick, you know."
"Yep, heard it after I said it, but that's not the point here." He point his finger at you, "You have a crush on me."
You splutter out a sound of indignation. "Hello, what?" In your head, fire alarms are sounding. It's a code red, all hell is breaking loose. "Pfft, no I absolutely do not."
Steve raises his eyebrows. "Then how else do you explain the running away when you see me anywhere at school? You always have an insane excuse why we're not able to meet up to start the project, which some are hilarious," he admits, "but you've got me complaining about not doing homework, look what you've done to me!"
At this point you've gone silent, mouth agape with an excuse stuck in your throat refusing to come out. Steve's expression has changed, his eyes bore into yours with earnest, almost as if he's anticipating a certain answer, hoping for it. "So?"
You muster all the courage you have left and just when you're about to respond, Steve interrupts you again for like, the 15th time.
"Anyways, I've to get going, have some things to do and whatever." He gets up, shrugs on his jacket and then places his books in his backpack. You get up too, having absolutely no clue how to tell him not to go, that you want him to stay. "Steve, what do you mean?"
He glances over at you, "Nothing, I just have to go. I'm a busy guy." He starts making his way to your front door, leaving you behind in the kitchen, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. First, he accuses you of having a crush on him, which you do, and then he just thinks he can leave?
Oh, absolutely not.
With a new wave of determination, you catch up to Steve just as he's finishing putting on his shoes. "Say thanks to your mom for me for dinner, it was great," he says as he grabs the door handle. You don't let him continue with whatever stupid thing he was going to say next.
"Listen Harrington, I don't know what the fuck just happened back there, but the fact you think can just, leave after dropping a bomb like that is ridiculous," you say, glaring at him in annoyance, and Steve's just staring back at you with that stupid, stupid, smirk that has not left his face since the moment he stepped foot in here.
"So what if I did like you, huh? What if I did have a crush on you? Because I do, but that, quite frankly, is none of your business, none of your concern, actually, so... yeah." Steve is looking at you and you're looking at him, a little out of breath after your declaration. You don't have the energy right now to fully process what you just said.
All of a sudden, Steve seems to break character, the smugness gone, replaced with subtle endearment. He leans down and presses a swift kiss on your cheek before whispering, "Well, it's a good thing I like you too." He straightness back up and says, "I told you I knew you were different, you're a mystery. You're lucky running away seemed to work on me, by the way. I don't think it would for everyone else," he says while you stare at him in shock. You've been rendered silent once again, with nothing but the thought that Steve likes you back, repeating over and over again.
You clear your throat before speaking, "Well! Um, yay?" You truly have no idea what to do right now. Steve chuckles at your reaction, like he can't believe his words have caused you of all people, who continuously talk and talk and talk, to not have anything profound to say for once. He's kind of into it.
Steve grabs your hand and encases it with the other. "Come over to my house tomorrow after school, I'll drive you. We can work on the project and you know, talk, if you want." You nod fervently, "Yeah, yeah ok."
He smiles and drops your hand. "I really do have to go though, I wasn't making that up," he remarks as he opens the front door. "Oh, sure, that's fine," you reply. You hold open the door for him and watch as he descends the steps and makes his way towards his car. You watch him, holding onto the door for dear life.
As Steve gets into the car, he looks over at you and waves, "I'll see you tomorrow!" You wave back and yell back, "Yeah, tomorrow!" You don't go back inside until the car is out of sight. As you shut the door, you press your back against it, trying to wrap your head around what exactly happened in the last few hours.
Holy shit, you though, Steve Harrington likes me. Steve fucking Harrington. You let out an involuntarily squeal of excitement and immediately regret doing it as your mother calls down from upstairs. "Mija, are you ok? What happened?" Hearing her voice reminds you of her involvement over the events that transpired tonight.
Putting your happiness on hold for a moment, you start to storm up the stairs. "Mom!", you yelled, "How could you embarrass me like that, asking him to stay over for dinner, you know how I feel about him, I just about fainted 5 times throughout the night, how does that make you feel!? You almost killed me an—"
You would thank your mom later, because ultimately she helped, but for now, you'll stick to this.
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concerningwolves · 3 days ago
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this last week really has had me thinking a lot about why Loki is popularly conceptualised as a queer figure over any of the other Norse gods. part of me thinks it's not That Deep:
Loki is a more obviously transgressive figure, both in terms of his trickster aspect and in terms of him doing stuff that explicitly crosses gender binaries (see: transforming himself into a mare and giving birth to Sleipnir in this form). He is also often represented as an outsider. All of which are things that lend themselves well to a queer reading.
These same characteristics are also present in his Marvel comics counterpart – a very popular character who, depending on the comic, may be anything between coded or canonically written as queer. Fandom also loves to blur the bounds of marvel Loki and Norse mythology Loki, gleefully playing with the two in a space that is already radically queer, so that one feeds into the other.
Rick Riordan also ran with obviously queer Loki in his Magnus Chase series, further cementing Loki as a queer figure in a fairly mainstream social arena, and attracting more people to Norse mythology with this conception of Loki already in their minds, creating another feedback loop similar to the one mentioned above.
But it's the second part of that question – why Loki over any of the other Norse gods – that I really need to scratch at rn. There is rich evidence for Odin as a queer figure, too, but this isn't something I encounter much outside of scholarly discussion. And again, it may not be that deep, because (1) the arguments purporting Odin's queerness are scholarly, so not something most people would come across, and (2) the evidence given is drawn more from archaeology and sagas, rather than the popular stories that serve as most people's gateway to Norse mythology. E.g, the main argument for Odin as queer is:
Viking society had strict ideas about how social status and gender intersected. Unmanliness was deeply taboo. Laws made later in the viking period and into the medieval tell us that a lot of these taboos were enshrined in law – e.g., wearing clothes of another gender could invite legal repercussions.
Odin practises seid, a kind of ecstatic (i.e., ritual) magic mostly associated with discerning the future.
Seid was, as far as we understand it from archaeology and other sources, something that women practised. A female art, in other words, and not something that men did.
It is therefore interesting that Odin, someone who generally embodies what we consider to be the viking ideal of manhood, uses seid.
(bonus point: Extant descriptions of seid rituals also link it with fertility, and the rituals can have an erotic air; men who practised seid could be called ergi, a serious insult that implied they were the receptive/submissive party in gay sex. This means Odin not only moves beyond the gender binary, but embodies a challenge to norms of sexuality as well)
So unless you're someone who already has this context, Odin's use of seid would just seem like another instance of magic in stories already full of magic. It's also a (somewhat sad imo) fact that modern retellers of Norse mythology tend to draw on the same set of stories, usually those from the Prose Edda or Poetic Edda because these form the neatest & most coherent sense of narrative [1]. That, and mythology retellings are usually aimed at children and young teens, the effect of which is twofold –
stories such as Odin's rape of Rind, which involve him disguising himself as a woman, are unlikely to be included because they're hard to make age-appropriate. This lessens their popularity and public prominence, so people are often unaware of them.
Retellings are heavily coloured by the teller's beliefs and politics[2], and specifically in this case by what they consider appropriate for a child: Anything queer is often considered inherently "adult" and therefore Not child-friendly. However, the story of Thor disguising himself as Freya is ok because it reinforces how men and women are separate and any attempt to cross that binary makes you into a fool; Loki is often written as an evil or even satan-like figure, which makes it acceptable to use him as an example of queerness = deviant and wrong, etc.
Still, I can't help wondering if the popular conception of Odin as the manly warrior god has been a barrier, too. In many online leftist queer spaces these days, manhood has started being seen as the antithesis of queerness; as the gross privileged oppressor gender. (Which is such a hilariously out of touch concept, considering that queer men's masculinity is attacked because of their queerness, and factors such as race, religion and (dis)ability also radically change just how much privilege being a man will grant). There is a real problem with images of gender fluidity, transness and gender non-conformity centering thin, feminine (often white!) and attractive people. Many people's concepts of "non-binary" actually just describe "female presentations but slightly to the left". In that mindset, the bearded guy with a warrior's build, who isn't typically described as attractive, cannot be queer. He is too masculine. Hyper-masculine, even – as if nobody with incredibly masc presentation can possibly be any flavour of queer. It's the entire punchline for why Thor pretending to Freya is so funny (a punchline that is just a transphobic punch for many transfem people).
So yes, I have to ask if this is part of why Loki is usually the only Norse god who gets the queer treatment in pop culture. Because it's easier to create from him a queer figure who is more palatable to modern tastes, whereas Odin still poses a challenge to our concepts of what queerness should be today, even though we have moved on a long way from the social attitudes of the viking age..
[1] all of our records of the Norse myths kind of count as retellings btw and are absolutely shaped by the social context in which they were recorded and the beliefs of the writers. E.g., Snorre represents Odin more favourably while Saxo writes him less favourably. It is very hard to know how people in the viking age thought of the gods and myths and religion.
[2] viking history and Norse mythology (or a flattened, idealistic version of these) have been co-opted by Nazis, neonazis and other groups who idolise the image of white hyper-masculine supremacy that they see in these, too. I think the public perception of viking culture has been recovering but misconceptions about who the vikings were & how they lived still linger, and the impressions of 20th & 21st century bigoted attitudes that were superimposed onto Norse history are still visible.
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alienoresimagines · 2 months ago
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Just some words I've been needing to hear for a few weeks now and once I finally wrote them down, I thought maybe there were other people who might need to hear them too ❀
You don't need to be anyone's favorite writer for your writing to be good.
The worth of your writing is not measured by whether or not you're included in fic recs or the amount of comments/asks you get.
Your works don't need to be recognized as some of The fics of the fandom to be good or worth reading.
'Popular' writers in your fandom are also just writers (and humans!!) : you don't need to impress or be noticed by them to have a place in your fandom. Fandom should be fun so don't let your brain ruin it with a misplaced sense of competition <3
You don't need to post a fic every week to be considered a writer. You don't need to write every week to be a writer. There is no limited places in fandom: come and go as you want and as life allows you to. Post when you feel like it, there is no trend to surf on to stay 'relevant' as a fic writer or a content creator. Fandom will always wait for you.
Your writing is good, and the more you write, the more you find your style, the better it gets.
Your writing made someone's day. Your writing is helping the fandom stay alive. Your writing should make you happy, and that happiness should not be proportional to how recognized you are in your fandom.
I know it can be discouraging to see tons of fic recs in your fandom and none of them including your fics. But yesterday, when I was feeling down, I re-read my own published works because they were the stories I wanted to read. And I enjoyed reading them, so much. And that is enough to keep me writing, because it showed me there is no better person to write the stories I have in my head than myself (a huge progress considering months ago, I couldn't reread something I'd written because I was cringeing too hard to get through two sentences).
Find your people that will always hype you and your fics up: you and your writing don't have to appeal to every single person in your fandom. Write niche fics! Rarepairs seemingly no one brought up before! Include headcanons and takes and interpretations you've never seen written before!
Write the stories you are dying to read, and I promise you, you'll find other people who were hoping to find that story somewhere, too.
Your writing is unique because it can only ever be yours and same goes for your stories; your writing is worth reading and your stories are worth being written <3
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nostalgia-tblr · 3 months ago
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i nearly anon'd the thorki non-con fic out of SHAME but in two weeks it's become my third most clicked-on fic of the year, behind only a multichapter fic and a bit of angsty sifki porn lololol
#this is about 560 hits btw which i know is not much for bigger fandoms and it's just that i tend to be in some weird niche but gosh!#i'd written thorki before but it wasn't e-rated so if the non-con tag really did work against it then wow no wonder ppl write this pairing!#you ever been to reddit where someone posts about how their latest fic only got 20k hits in a week and you're like “WTF”?#and it turns out they're in some hugely popular fandom and that's the least read fic for that pairing on the entire site by a mile.#that's like glimpsing a parallel universe. what a strange place. why would any fic ever have more than 1000 hits omg!#and 1000 would be for if you wrote something Surprisingly Popular. like e-rated thorki non-con apparently is.#meanwhile 'cockroboros' may only have 35 hits but every one of those 35 people agrees that i was right to write that thing!!#and me and the other 86 people who wanted to see missy interact with jamie moriarty are besties now <3#SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I TURN THE NUMBERS BACK ON OH NOOOOOO THIS WAY LIES MADNESS!!!#the sifki one had a bump recently which i must assume came from one of those 'recced it in a discord but never said a word' incidents.#those are increasingly common and i hope i am not alone in finding them ever so slightly creepy#if you're going to look at me you need to at least pat me on the head to cancel out the anxiety of that damn it!#*flashes back to when i hid that one ten'n'donna fic because nobody would tell me where all the readers were coming from*#fic related#anyway i think it's important to mention i wrote thorki non-con fic in case anyone following me thinks i am Unproblematic in some way.
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derinthescarletpescatarian · 4 months ago
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wait, Derin how did your leaving make the hospital shut down?
I used to work as a live-in nanny for a pediatrician.
Now, the thing about hospitals in my country is that they are massively understaffed and massively underfunded. This is especially true outside the major cities. The staff are worked to the bone and receive little to no help in things like finding accommodation or childcare, making working in rural areas a very uninviting prospect; staff come out here, get lumped with the work of three people (because there's nobody else to do it), burn out under the workload and leave, meaning that those remaining have even more work because that person is gone. It's unsustainable and the medical staff are doing their best to sustain it, because people die if they don't, so to the higher-ups it looks like everything's getting done and therefore everything is fine.
My friend (and boss) worked one week on, one week off, swapping out with another pediatrician. This was necessary because it would not be physically possible for one person to handle the workload for longer periods of time. The one single pediatrician had to hold up the entire pediatrics ward, which was not only the only public hospital pediatrics ward in our town, but also the one that served all the towns around us for a few hours' drive in all directions. I regularly saw her go to work sick, aching, tired, or with a debilitating 'I can barely make words or see' level migraine, because if she took a day off, twenty children didn't get healthcare that day, and some of these kids' appointments were scheduled weeks in advance. She'd work long hours in the day and then be called in a couple of times overnight for an hour or two at a time (she was on-call at night too, because somebody had to be), and then go in the next day. Sometimes she would be forced to take a day off because she physically could not stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, meaning she couldn't drive to work.
Cue my niece's second birthday coming up in Melbourne. I'd been working for her for about 3 years, and she (and the hospital) had plenty of advance warning that I (and therefore she) needed one (1) Friday off. That's fine, we'll find someone to work that Friday, the hospital said. Right up until the last week where they're like "oh, we can't find a replacement; you can come in, can't you?"
No, she tells them; I don't have anyone to watch my kid that day.
Oh, surely you can hire a babysitter for this one day, they say. Think of the children! We really really need you to work that day. I know we said it'd be fine but we need you now, there's no one else to do it.
There are no other babysitters, she told them. Unless you can find one?
That's not our responsibility, they said.
But I'm not changing my plans, she's got plans by now as well, the hospital knew about this one day weeks in advance, and with absolutely no reserve staff they're forced to reschedule all pediatrics appointments for that Friday. Not a huge deal, it happens on the 'physically too overworked to get out of bed' days too. I go to Melbourne, she goes back to her home in Adelaide for her recovery week, all should be on track.
My niece gives me Covid.
This was way back in the first wave of the pandemic, and there were no Covid vaccines yet. The rules were isolate, mask up, hope. I had Covid in the house, and it would've been madness for my friend and her toddler to come back into the Covid house instead of staying in Adelaide. There was absolutely no way that a pediatrician could live with someone in quarantine due to Covid and go to work in the hospital with sick children every day. And no support existed for finding another babysitter, or temporary accommodation, so the hospital was down a pediatrician.
The other pediatrician wasn't available to do a three-week stint. They were also trapped in Adelaide on their well-earned week off.
Meaning that the only major pediatrics ward within a several-hour radius had no pediatricians. They had to shut down and send all urgent cases to Adelaide for the week. To the complete absence of surprise of any of the doctors or nurses; of course this would happen, this was bound to happen, it presumably keeps happening. But probably to the surprise of the higher-ups. After all, the hospital was doing fine, right? Of course all the staff were complaining of overwork and a lack of resources in every meeting, but they could always be fobbed off with the promise of more help sometime in the future; the work was mostly getting done, so the issue couldn't be too urgent.
It's not like some nanny who doesn't even work for the hospital could go out of town for a weekend for the first time in three years, and get the only public pediatrics ward in the area shut down for a week.
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chuluoyi · 5 months ago
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✎ all of me
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- gojo satoru x reader
you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most
genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff
note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.
"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"
But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.
Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.
"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.
"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"
Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.
Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."
You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"
Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.
But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.
"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."
"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"
"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."
"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"
And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―
"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."
Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.
And all these thoughts only made you angrier.
"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."
With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.
But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.
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In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.
With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―
It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.
But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.
Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.
. . .
None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—
Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—
Of you no longer by his side.
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“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”
You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.
“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.
“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”
You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.
“So
 don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.
He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.
Don't compare me to you.
With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry
 it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”
“
really?”
“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."
“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”
A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.
You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"
He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.
"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."
"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.
You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.
That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.
. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.
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"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"
He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.
Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—
His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.
He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.
"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.
And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.
"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.
Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.
They hurt you.
"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."
He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.
"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"
Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.
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"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"
Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.
The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"
He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.
At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.
It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.
"It's Gojo Satoru!"
"Run! Ruuuun!"
What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—
"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."
Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.
And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.
Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.
It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—
At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.
But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—
"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.
He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.
You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.
"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.
"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"
The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.
"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.
"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"
Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.
You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?
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A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.
Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.
He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.
And yet what happened?
If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.
Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.
Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—
"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.
His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.
"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."
Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.
"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."
You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."
Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.
Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"
Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"
"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"
And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."
The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.
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When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.
The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.
Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.
You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.
So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.
You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.
In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"
And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.
"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.
Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."
But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.
"O-our—"
"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."
A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."
But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.
"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.
"No... I feel fine now."
"Then, can I hug you?"
Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.
You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.
"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"
“
’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”
It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.
"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."
He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."
"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"
Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.
"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."
You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.
“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”
So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.
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Epilogue
"Papa, how do I become stronger?"
Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"
His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."
Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.
"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."
"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"
"What ways?"
"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"
"Do I have to be like you
? Is there no other way?"
"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"
"Everything...?"
7K notes · View notes
keen-li · 9 days ago
Text
Merry!Ex-mas.
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18+ MDNI
22.k words synopsis: you get a notification about plane tickets you purchased about a trip you were excited for, only reason you're not excited at the remainder, is because you had planned the trip with your now ex. At the time you never thought you'd be spending December broken up. So, it felt like a great idea. not so much now. ex!jk x ex!femreader (fem anatomy.) exes to lovers use of 'yn' warnings: angst, fluff, smut: long-distance relationship, exes, second chance, miscommunication, b*tches is awkward, tension, one bed, forced proximity, Jungkook isn't crazy rich but he's got good money, i think he's an accountant, jk has that short ceo hair cut. reader has communication problem, jungkook's freaking green sweater needs it's own fanfic!, think are!you!sure jungkook. protective!jk, there's a creep who approaches reader as jungkook is off skiing, and whilst she's in the sauna(nothing bad happens.), sweet!wants!to!try!jk, jk has issues of not communicating too. they just can't seem to talk. avoiding stuff. teasing. touchy!jk, secret glances. jealousy, reader is very jealous,they're lying to themsleves, jungkook loves to take pictures especially of reader. hot tub jungkook who's looking up at you like you're a goddes. very needy kissing, boob sucking, dirty talking, oral(f!receiving.), handjob, cowgirl, protected!penetration, aftercare. hand kissing. [i don't know what else i need to add, let me know] as per usual, it was edited but if there are any errors, forgive me. A/N: this fic is honestly cause of that Jungkook green sweater I've never travelled to please don't come at me if anything is wrong. I very much world built some things. I've given written from top to bottom so don't except a part 2, unless maybe drabble requests. I wrote this in one week and i'm so proud i was able to write 22k words, in that time. though i was supposed to go up on the 25th[shhhhhh] A/N: i'm still learning how to write smut. so if you think the smut is cringe please don't tell me :) i don't wanna know. unless you want to help me improve it, and you do it kindly, i'd appreciate. likes, reblog, and all positive asks and comments are always appreciated. i hope you're happy with this one. [read under the cut]
You get the notification as you're scrolling through your phone. A remainder of sorts that you had been forgetting something. Cause you had been.
It loomed over you all week. The lingering feeling of remembering what you can’t. You hated it. But now that you know it’s source you couldn’t feel any worse.
Being the recipient of the message, you’re burdened with having to translate the message. Why do you have to do this? Broken up, having to text him feels like opening a can of worms. But the tickets are non-refundable, and it would be unfair for you to not inform him. You did both pay for them, Jungkook of course paying more because he was just too stubborn to split. he'd actually wanted to pay for the full thing but you were at odds with the idea. he settled eventually.
So, it would be unfair to not tell him. Right? Yes. But you don’t want to believe it.
Even if how the hell are you going to remind your ex about the holiday trip you planned thinking you’d be together for; but in turn would celebrate separately. Before the notification of the trip.
To add on, now you have to open your chat. An action you dread to do; for your emotional health.
What are you actually going to say? You think, finger hovering over the keyboard. Something that won’t make you sound like you’ve missed him, were thinking about him or even thinking about going on this trip with him. All which you’ve been doing. You’ve succumb to the thoughts, only because you two broke up in October, still relatively early to just forget a 3-year relationship with someone you thought you’d marry.
Sigh.
You still haven’t answered the question of how you’re even gonna bring it up. Will he even answer?
“shibal” jimin laughs into the speaker, not helping you one bit. “you two are ridiculous.”
You roll your eyes still waiting and hoping he’ll say something sensible. It’s all in vain. “How the hell do you book a trip and break up just before. You couldn’t wait?” He laughs and you just know he’s sat at his computer playing games, from his loud and unfocused speech.
“We didn’t freaking know we’d breakup.” You justify. “Plus, cause of the breakup we forgot. I forgot.” Your voice loses its strength at the end of the sentence, your mind slipping into a deep thought.
You haven’t been able to remember anything of relevance since that day. Maybe only how to breath and live but you’d say your body takes full credit for that.
“Hmm.” is all he says to you before screaming obscenities to someone in his game.
“Jimin are you gonna be of any help or wh-”
“You know what you should do?”
You want to believe his following statement will be of use, but you can never be certain.
“Just send it” he groans from what you assume is an attack on him. Your brow raises. “Send him a screenshot of the notification. If he doesn’t respond go on it on your own.”
“Or take me with you” he whispers. If it came to it, would you even choose jimin to go with? Probably. He’d help make it fun.
You sigh, still in the darkest of analysis. It’s your best option what else could you say. So, you say your goodbye to jimin who is quick to go off to his game, without a second thought. Rude. Talking to him whilst he’s on his game is setting yourself up.
Back to having a staring contest with your phone. And after a long while of panic, thump fidgeting and dry eyes, you click on his contact (yes you still have it.) and just send the screenshot.
As you wait to make sure the picture is sent you catch a glimpse of the last text from your chat. You were avoiding slipping up and seeing it, but your eyes couldn’t be helped.
Jungkook was the last to text.
Kookie<3: I miss you call me back.
Seeing the text makes your stomach churn. Makes your head spin with all the memories and emotions returning. You don’t want to linger on it. You’re quick to just sending the screenshot like jimin said, you only hope he doesn’t ask too many questions. If he does respond. The little thought in your head surfaces. What if he wants nothing to do with you. What if you’re bothering him? You shouldn’t have sent that text. But it’s too late now.
You’re well aware his message was sent before you had broken up. The only reason you hadn’t replied was because you couldn’t. On the same day you’d called him back and told him how you didn’t think you’d be able to do it anymore.
“Mm?” he hums confused. You can hear it in his voice and it only makes you even more nervous to repeat.
“This long-distance thing isn’t working for us jungkook.” You bite you lower lip hoping to hide some of your emotions that threaten to ruin your speech. Your fingers fidget in the silence waiting for his response. But it never comes and for a moment you think he’s cut the call and you’ve been talking to yourself. That’s when he sighs, showing you, he’s been listening but too shocked to speak.
You calling his full name, no nickname, strains at his heart. “Are you serious?” it’s calm, sad even. Of course he’s sad, you’re breaking up with him. Sad isn’t even strong enough to describe what he’s feeling. Shock is just amongst them, maybe even a little anger. You’ve been going through a challenging period because of the difference in cities. But he never thought it’d come to this. Was it that bad?
“Yeah.” It’s weak defeated. You are, your whole relationship is.
Jungkook is awfully silent, he’s not sure why either. “Is there anything I can do?” he’s aware of the only solution available. But it’s not possible. Neither of your work will allow the other to move.
You shake your head like he can see it. but he doesn’t need to see what your silence has already said.
After not much thought cause he’s not able to, he speaks. “Is this what you want?” his question only serves to add to your confusion.
“You know it’s not but- “you try to speak but the lump in your throat chokes you.
It hurts him that this is happening over a call. Wishes he could’ve spoken about it in person, cause there’s more to it.
More that you haven’t spoken about. Never have, and doubt you ever will or want to.
All this just makes the idea of this trip even more worrying. That’s if he’ll want to go or even respond. You never got to know what he thought but you assume he has some sort of resentment for the way you ended things. You would too. That’s one of the things you feel guilty for.
You’ll say the way things ended was not ideal, and honestly it never made you feel good as you thought it would. It made you feel worse actually. But at least now you don’t argue because you don’t talk. Who are you kidding, you miss the arguments, something to remind he was there.
Guilt hovers but, you console yourself by saying that he probably wanted it too if he didn’t try to fight for it. Which is unfair, but what else can you tell yourself as an excuse.
Your focus is now on your screen. You’re about to exit the chat, but then those familiar popups of bubbles appear. Already?
The bubbles disappear and appear, which only serves to grow your anxiety. Is he about to rebuke you for texting him. Gosh, what the hell would you say after that? He’s about to cuss you out. Suddenly your room feels too small to hold you and what you’re feeling.
But what pops up is even more anxiety inducing.
Kookie<3: I’m in town. We should meet and talk tomorrow.
Why does he sound so professional? Why do you care. Oh- your mind, it’s spinning.
He’s in town, when? Why didn’t he tell you. This would be the first time you see him in a year since he moved. And he couldn’t even just tell you he was in town. The reason to him being here is not unknown to you. It’s the Christmas season and his parents do live in the same city as you. And just like you they were not happy about they’re son moving so far away. But nothing was stopping jungkook. Nothing.
You’re probably not important to him anymore but, couldn’t he have just said, hi. I’m in town. How long has he even been here for? You never thought he’d return to the city even for the holidays.
You shake the thoughts out of your head. You can’t be over thinking this.
We?......meet?.....talk?.....TOMORROW!              
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Tomorrow couldn’t come any faster (not that you were excited for it.). It’s almost as though it wants you and jungkook to meet.
You both agreed to meet at one of the small restaurants near your place. One you two frequented together, so it holds so much for you. Which only made you more anxious on your way.
When you walked in your eyes unconsciously moved to the table you and jungkook loved to seat at. It was good distance from the kitchen so your food could reach you quicker, and far from others so that jungkook could lean in and say the nastiest thing on earth. It always made you blush even though you’d swat at him. You spot jungkook sat where he usually sat. Coat taken off and hanged on his chair.
 “Hey.” You choke out smiling politely as you reach the table and take off your coat, the inside of the restaurant too warm to be comfortable with it on.
You take a sit and allow your body to get accustomed to the environment. And jungkook.
He’s quick to respond to your greeting just as awkward.
When you’re settled you finally get a chance to see just how much he’s changed in a year. The warm light from the ceiling softens his features which would normally be sharp in the dim lights of your bedroom. His hair is cut short. Last time you saw him it was neck length, but now it’s significantly short. Makes him look professional, mature. You like it, really like it. you wish you could just reach over and touch it, it’d probably be just as soft as you remember it and smell like lavender. You notice how he has it styled and gelled back so you doubt he’d be happy with you running your hands in it.
Jungkook spent an ungodly amount of time trying to get it to look like this, which he doesn’t think is perfect enough, but he was running out of time. Something about this meeting had him wanting to go out. He just hopes you like it. he remembers you last saw it when it was longer. It was a big cut, but after your breakup, he felt like giving up the length, considering your hands loved to live in his hair.
You sit hand in lap waiting for your mouth to catch up with how fast your brain is working. Though if you did speak what your brain was thinking, you’d embarrass yourself.
“We should order first.” He says rolling up the sleeves of his navy-blue denim shirt. The action reminding of the inks on his arm. A detail that adds to how attractive he is already. You’re really hating yourself for your thoughts. In your defence you haven’t seen him in the flesh for a year. “What do you wanna get?” he picks up his menu and you do too, stuttering in your movement. He seems calmer than you right now.
But the only thing is that he’s shitting himself inside. when he was sat before you came, his heart dropped every time he heard the door bells chime. Every time he turned it wasn’t you. Only increasing his nervousness. Maybe he was a little to forward with his message. You haven’t seen each other in a while and it’d probably be overwhelming, especially with a certain elephant in the room. He would’ve definitely understood if you didn’t want to show. On the chime of the door that followed his thoughts, he didn’t turn, only for it to be you. In your full glory, making him fidget with his phone more. Which he put aside immediately you sat down.
Clearing your throat you speak, “something soup-y. Today’s a little cold.” And you don’t feel like throwing up what you eat.
Jungkook agrees and his red nose is evidence of that. Cute, you think.
After your orders are taken you turn back to silence. What could you probably say right now? You can feel the distance between you emotionally. And you hate how this is how you are after not seeing each other for a year. Before breaking up you thought of the many ways, you’d hug him once you got to see him. You were definitely delusional over how serious your distance was. Really wanting to believe it wouldn’t be a problem; until it became one, and you just couldn’t do it anymore.
You don’t know how to behave right now.
“So, when did you get back?” you settle on a soft and casual tone.
“Just yesterday.” He speaks sounding a little hesitant. After not knowing where to look you decide to just look at one thing. The table.
After beats of silence, you continue. Can your food come any faster? “you’re staying with your parents?”
“Yeah.”
You lived together, in your used to be shared apartment before he decided to move. So, his only option was to live with his parents for the mean time. He assumed you wouldn’t want or even let him live with you. And it would be fair, you aren’t together anymore.
“I’m Sure they were shocked to see how much you’ve change.” Cause you are. You haven’t seen his parents in the same time that he hasn’t seen them.
“It was a surprise drop in so I’m sure they were” he says with weak chuckle. He bites into his lip before he’s looking at you again, but you don’t stare at him. It’s only when you realize his stare that you finally face him. “How have you been? You look well.” He’s dreading himself right now for not being able to speak to someone who has been, for 3 years, the only person he could speak to.
You do look good, and he can’t take his mind off it. the camera has not been doing you justice. Your skin looks brighter and you generally are just glowing. Gosh he missed looking at you. The way small dainty jewellery serves to compliment your outfit. Your hair done in a way you like, and he loves.
“I try.” You smile. Every chance you get you take a glace at his lip piercing. You’d forgotten just how it made him even the more--. “You look well too. How’s the job going?”
He sucks in a breath, showing visible stress at the thought of his job. “it’s going okay. Easiest way to put it.” he chuckles, awkwardly. You smile, awkwardly too. “I missed it here though, so much stuff I left behind.”
You just hum, nodding. Avoiding how his eyes glancing over you, just for a second as he was looking for where to keep his gaze whilst speaking.
“But I’m sure you’re having fun that side.” That side. He can hear the strength you put on the words. Instead of fiddling on your lap you decide to fold your arms on your chest. Finding it appropriate for the feelings that are sneaking in.
“You can say that, but there’s just something that feels empty y’know.” You do know, but you both choose to leave the conversation implicit.
And right on time, your food arrives saving you from saying anything. What the heck would you say when you can’t even think.
You two are soon digging into your food. Jungkook in his kimchi jjigae and you in yours.
“I missed this- mmm.” He hums making that little angry face he makes when he likes food. You laugh, a little to loud at that causing him to look up at you. You drop your smile.
“Mrs Kim always asks me about you when I come here.” 6 slices of chopped spring onion garnish you haven’t eaten, yet.
He leans back in his chair, unintentionally watching you eat.
He turns his head towards the kitchen where the lady in question usually spends her time. “Where is she anyways?” he’s back to digging into his food. the steam from the food warming his cold nose.
“she’s visiting sung Hoon in the US.” You inform him, taking in how relaxed you’ve become.
He nods at the info, “Ahh- she finally got to got to the US?” he smiles. He remembers how she would come to the table; she’d complain that her son doesn’t want her to visit, which was not the case. But being the dramatic lady she is, she would think that. “ ’m sure she was so excited.”
“no one could hear the end of it.”
He chuckles and you find yourself laughing too. But as much as you’re seemingly getting comfortable (though not wholly.) silence finds a way to wrap it’s long, cold and slimy finger around you two.
After you’re done eating your meals in silence, jungkook thinks it’s time to discuss the reason you’re even meeting. Cause you have nothing more to talk about.
“what’s the plan for the trip?” he shifts in his seat. “Assuming you’d want to go.” He doubts.
You take a deep breath before speaking, looking over at the whole scene of the restaurant. “I don’t know, we’d leave on Thursday. Assuming you’d want to go too.” You would want to go, that’s why you booked the trip. It’s only your situation that makes it awkward.
“Do you?” his question comes out fast and sudden and he regrets how quick it came out.
“Mm?” you mutter like you couldn’t hear what he said.
He clarifies choosing to speak more calmly and composed. “Do you want to go?”
The question takes you aback as though you hadn’t been asking yourself the same thing.
Reaching to play with the little gem on your necklace you stutter out. “I-I mean- yeah we spent money on it.” you shrug your shoulders as if you’re unconsciously saying otherwise, but really, you’re just trying to keep your statement open. In case he doesn’t want to go, and you’re left embarrassed with an extra ticket.
Jungkook instead takes your action as you probably not wanting to go. “I get it if you don’t. It’s a weird situation.” His hands move to touching his hair.
You trying to jump in but end up speaking a little too fast. “No, I do. Plus, I hate wasting money.” You do hate wasting money, truly. And it is just that and the fact that you would love a trip right now, to de-stress.
“But do you want to go with me?” that churning feeling in your stomach is returning, and you’ve just eaten which makes it all the much better.
Biting down on your lip and releasing it you say, “I mean I wouldn’t want to go on my own.” You hate how you feel your throat choking up. “Who else would I go with?” you awkwardly joke. There are some people you’d go with. But you planned this trip with jungkook and he paid the much for the tickets. So, it’s only fair to go with him. If he wants to.
He skips your question, not in bad taste. it’d be weird for you to go on a trip you planned with him with someone else. Maybe he did think of it, that maybe you’d enjoy it more if you weren’t with him. But then he thought it through. Shit doesn’t have to be awkward unless you both make it. so, you can enjoy this trip if you just agree to enjoy it. “I don’t mind going with you, but I don’t want you to feel forced to have me there.”
“I have no problem with you, jungkook.” You saying his name even though it’s not the pet name he enjoys feels like a warm touch to him. “I just want to know if you wanna go.” You find it in you to ask.
“I don’t mind it at all.” He says, relieving you of your fears.
He sighs. After he silence speaks. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. I was so excited for it too.” he reminiscing on the day. It was such a good idea. Is a good idea, if you just agree to enjoy it.
“So? It’s settled right?“ You sit up grabbing your stuff and preparing to leave. Jungkook’s smile falls realizing that the moment is ending. But he will see you soon still.
“Yeah.” He prepares to leave too.
“We leave Thursday, I guess. We’ll stay in touch.”
And that’s it, your conversation ends with you managing to avoid the larger topic at hand. It’s like a game.
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You throw your clothes in haphazardly. You’re in a panic, which is not necessary cause you have enough time, the whole day to be precise. Your flight’s tomorrow. But the whole airport thing has always found a way to make you panic.
You grab some essentials, but in frustration. Maybe you just want to get it over with. The packing, not the trip. Honestly it feels like it’s already started. Is this how you’re going to be.
As you search through your closet you land on a sweater, one you remember too well. It’s green colour and fluffy soft texture makes it the warmest thing you own. A very memorable sweater, for the warmth it brought you and its origin. You can still smell him on it. You dread packing it and resort to shoving it further in your closet. You’ll think about it.
You stare at your zipped up suitcase for a bit before your eyes gloss over to your phone that buzzes on your bed. For a split second you wonder if it’s jungkook. Could he have changed his mind. you sigh relived when you see it’s just jimin.
Who chooses to say nothing of value and just tease you. “Honestly why do I tell him these things.” You throw your phone on your bed.
Jungkook stands over his already packed suitcase. He just has to zip it closed and seal this trip. He sighs rubbing his lower lip. Before you two broke up he had so much planned for this trip. So much he wanted to say and do. But it's different now and it’d be weird and wrong to say those things. Not before talking of course.
Is he looking forward to this trip? Yes-wait- maybe. The trip in itself is fine, a great and good idea and opportunity to enjoy a holiday and relax. But your presence entails something more something he has to deal with (in a responsible and good way) and that he's been running away from.
 "You're excited huh?" his mother smiles leaning against his door frame, watching. He's not sure what about his facial expression, body language or general demeanour would make her think that he's excited. It’s not like he’s dreading or regretting it. it’s more like excitement is the last thing he’s feeling cause of all he’s thinking of.
He doesn't say anything before she's speaking again.
"You need this trip. you've been so busy." He has. Too much at that. So much that he forgot you two had even broken up and was about to go to your place first when he arrived. He’d been so excited to surprise you, then it dawned on him. His tires were quick to turning. His thoughts are cut short by his mother. "it'll help you spend more time with yn."
"I guess." he replies unenthusiastically. Though it’s the same idea they’re both thinking of it in a different context. Something that his mother doesn’t know yet.
He doesn't stare at where she stands only at his suitcase analysing what he's packed and what the heck is actually going on. "Plus, it would be a perfect place to propose." She enthuses, joyous at the thought. He seems to have slightly forgotten about that detail too.
 When you were planning the trip, he made a plan to propose to you on it. It honestly is the perfect place to and he felt like it was the right time. Of course, you'd be arguing but it wasn't something that was holding back your relationship. Plus, he thought you'd talked it out well enough. So, he spent his free time after planning the trip, shopping for rings and looking proposal ideas and even asked some of his colleagues for advice. It’d be a trip where you got to spend some time after being away for so long.
But that's when you called and honestly kicked him in the balls. Too confused he just went along with it.
"Switzerland is such a good choice, you kids are so good at these things." She says probably imaging herself there too.  It’s not long before his eyes are staring at the black velvet box on his dressing table, and his head is spinning all over again. He knows how excited she gets about this and she won’t stop. “You could take a walk and then pull out the Ring with those mountains in the back and-"
"Eomma!" His deep voice stops her, not harshly but whiny. Not telling his parents about the breakup is honestly the most overwhelming thing because of how his mother adores you and finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. she could go on but the tired look on her son's face makes her stop. She wants to pry on why he looks more drained that ecstatic but she chooses against it.
”Is something wrong?”
He realizes just how carried away he’s getting with his emotions. He shakes his head. “no. I’m just stressed.” He finally looks up at her to give a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes but she returns.
"Sorry, you know how I get carried away. I'm sure you have your own plan let me not stress you."
She leaves and he sighs
No. He has no plan of his own. He has no plan at all.
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Your suitcase handle is firmly clutched into your hand as you walk into the airport.
Your eyes scan the crowd. Every face. Each bag too, because you know which one he'd probably be carrying with him. Seeing it again is gonna be triggering cause the last time you saw it was the last time you saw him off.
You and jungkook agreed to come separately and since his parents lived closer to the airport he'd be here first and wait for you by security. But now that you're there you can't see him. Maybe he's a little late but why wouldn't he tell you.
You told him you had just arrived but he hasn't even seen that message. Has he changed his mind? is the first thing that pops up in your head. If he has that's a shitty way to do it. Just ghost you?
So, you pull out your phone to call him. “Pick up." You mutter under your breath.
No answer.
You feel stupid. It honestly feels like you're on a Lifetime show or even worse TLC.
Your annoyance bubbles over as you glance around the busy security area. "Where is he?" you ask yourself.
 Though you think he has, you doubt jungkook would just ghost you. It's not what you know him to be. You tap your foot impatiently and try to call him again. Still nothing. Your heart finally relaxes when you spot him already walking to you. "Seriously?" You say a little upset when he finally reaches. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"
"Oh. I didn't hear it." He says pulling it out of his pocket. "Must be on silent. I’m sorry." He looks at you genuinely so. And you can’t bring yourself to be as mad as you want to be. It’s not a big deal, he’s here now.
“it’s okay, we should get going, we’re almost late.” You say frustrated with how traffic delayed your arrival. Jungkook just hums agreeing and surprising you by taking you suitcase. You’d tell him it’s fine and you can manage but he’s already walking ahead of you. Probably not wanting to hear it.
A tense silence stretches between you two as you wait to board your plane. Sitting side by side has never felt so awkward, like the space between you is miles wide. You scroll through your phone, pretending to be so into it. You don’t notice Jungkook stealing occasional glances at you. Or rather, at the sweater you’re wearing—the one he gave you (more like you took.) just before he moved to another town. The green complimenting your skin. He loves how it just melts to fit you. He’s glad to know that you’re warm, he’s aware of how incredibly warm it is.
He wonders if you’re wearing it deliberately, or if it’s just because it’s the warmest thing you own, and today’s even colder than yesterday. Probably no meaning behind it. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Though it’s not enough to stop him from developing a smile on his face, one he covers with his hand.
The low hum of voices and the faint crackle of the airport announcements fill the silence. Someone walks past, dragging a squeaky suitcase, the airport noises the only thing between the two of you.
“I know this is awkward.” He starts randomly, at first doubting he was talking to you but then you move your attention to him, when you realize it’s only you he can be talking to. It’s not like you were looking at anything on your phone. “I want us to enjoy it. I want you to enjoy it.”
“I want you to enjoy it too.” You find yourself speaking before your brain can process.
He smiles and turns to meet your eyes. All of a sudden, he feels so close. “So can we just pretend.” His eyes don’t move, if possible, they stare even deeper into yours. Yours don’t move as well. “Pretend like everything’s okay.” He speaks low as if he doesn’t want others around to hear. “Agree?”
You haven’t said much, instead just let him speak. “Agreed.”
You don’t mind pretending. You’ve been pretending you’re okay all this time, so why can’t you do it now.
-
You watch Jungkook sliding the bags into the overhead storage above your seats. He notices you approaching and nods for you to have the window seat.
“You sure?” you ask only because he called dibs when you planned the trip that he’d be getting the window seat.
He nods. “Yeah. I know you like it more than I do.” You do. He only called dibs because he was trying to ‘one up’ you like everything’s a game.
You squeeze passed him get comfortable in your seat and he’s soon sitting next to you. You’re glad it’s just two seats.
You sit in silence for most of the flight, each pretending to be too absorbed in your own activities to notice the other. Jungkook watches you out of the corner of his eye as you scroll through your phone, then switch to reading a book. This trip can’t be that bad, you tell yourself. Of course, you two haven’t talked about your breakup, but it doesn’t have to come up. You’ll just enjoy the weekend and go back to normal, like he said—pretend---if either of you even knows what that means.
What are the boundaries of pretending.
At some point, you shift in your seat, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. You’re asleep, of course, but Jungkook glances down at you, momentarily startled. He considers waking you but decides against it. Instead, he leans back slightly, letting you stay there.
As the plane hums softly and moves through the sky, Jungkook can’t help but wonder if this trip could be his chance to fix things. How does he want it to happen? Does he even know? All he knows it that you do eventually have to talk about things. Do you even want to talk about it, because you seem to be avoiding it.
But there’s only so much avoiding you can do.
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As soon as the plane lands, you stretch in your seat, surprised you managed to sleep for that long. Glancing at Jungkook, you watch as he pulls the luggage from the overhead bin. He looks like he didn’t get any sleep at all, you had been sleeping on his shoulder for most of the time. You exchange a brief look—just acknowledging each other and your present moment—before heading off the plane
The crisp Swiss air hits you as you step outside the terminal, and you follow Jungkook as he gets into a cab and it drives confidently toward a car rental area, which you’re confused about but don’t ask. Jungkook picks up keys from the reception and you walk through the parkin lot looking for what you don’t know. You’re just following. You stare at him puzzled as he dangles the keys. He’s been quiet, and you hadn’t even expected to rent a car. Public transport seemed like the plan, but now that you think about it, you remember how Jungkook feels about it.
“You rented a car?” you raise a brow.
He nods, “yeah, it’d be easier. Thought you’d approve.”
He catches a glance of your face, like you’re trying to figure something out, but can’t.
“Hmm.” You only hum.
“You look cute when you’re confused”.  He takes you by surprise. “Come on.” He says walking and not letting you process his words. You just try to shake them out of your head.
You don’t admit it, but you're impressed. He thought ahead. And you’re honestly glad he did—something you feel he’s been lacking the past year.
Once he’s done packing the luggage into the car, he closes the trunk and slides into the driver’s seat. You’re not sure why you’re shocked to find out it’s a Mercedes-benz g63 amg. You’d always known he had an obsession with luxury cars, especially ones like this. The fact that his job pays so well certainly helps, you guess moving out of town must’ve been worth it.
The car is great-- so comfortable, and the heater works perfectly, keeping you warm against the cold.
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As Jungkook adjusts the mirrors, you scroll through your contacts, trying to figure out what to call the person you booked the cabin with, “what do I call them a host?” You mutter under your breath before dialling the number.
Jungkook glances at you as you speak to the host in quick tones. "Got it, thanks," you say, giving a quick wave of your phone toward Jungkook. With the directions noted you can now get to moving.
"Okay, so we head north, then take-“
“North?" Jungkook interrupts, starting the engine. "Are you sure it's not west or whatever?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
You glare at him. He glances at one map and thinks he knows his way around Switzerland.
"I just talked to the guy," you say flatly.
Jungkook smirks, recalling a past trip. "Remember last time we travelled, and we ended up on a dead-end street?" he says with a cheeky smile on his face. he’s teasing you.
You roll your eyes at the memory. You had been driving through the outskirts, and your GPS got wonky, causing you to go down a deserted road.
“If you’d listened to me, we wouldn’t have gotten lost,” you reply.
You stop bickering, finally following the GPS. Jungkook decides to follow the directions, and the tension eases as you leave the city behind.
The atmosphere shifts, replaced by a sense of awe at the breathtaking scenery. Low-capped mountains stretch into the horizon, Swiss chalets dot the landscape, and the sun reflects off the lakes. You’re glad you arrived during the day; cause nighttime would not have done the view justice.
You watch out the window, your voice filled with awe. "Oh my gosh, it's so beautiful." Jungkook glances at your direction before returning his attention to the road. "Yeah, it is," he agrees, equally mesmerized by the view.
"Can you grab my camera from the back?" he askes. Recalling his passion for photography, you can’t be surprised he has it with him.
You pull out the camera from his bag, noticing it’s larger and more expensive looking than the one you had gifted him. "Do you still have your other one?" you’re curious.
He knows what you’re hinting to. "It fell in water during a fishing trip with my team, but I'm getting it fixed."
“Do you still have the pictures.” You’d hate to lose them, even though they are null and void now, you still like how happy you looked in them.
“Yeah. They’re in my SD.” He informs you and you’re glad.
You fumble with the new camera, struggling to operate its buttons, he notices. "There's a button just there," he directs. Though you aren’t much of a photographer, you manage to snap some decent shots of the scene. You take a lot to make sure you have options.
Feeling playful, you turn the camera to jungkook and snap a pic of him. You had always admired his model-like features and often joked he should pursue modelling instead of his current path, which kept him 218 miles away. But now you realize modelling would only take him even farther.
He never agreed to the idea but never argued either. He preferred to appreciate beauty rather than be the centre of attention.
"Did you just take a picture of me?" he asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Yeah, just one," you reply.
He doesn’t respond, leaving you to wonder what he’s thinking. Is he upset? Did you cross a pretending line?
"Wanna stop and take pictures," he grins, "y’know for your Instagram."
It’s not a bad idea, but you don’t want to be late and have the host waiting for too long.
"We won't be long." he looks over to see if you’re considering. He smiles when sees that you are. You don't post much on Instagram, and he knows that. But it wouldn't hurt to have some pictures from this trip.
"Let's be quick," you accept.
He pulls over to the side of the road and when you’re out he’s approaching you to take the camera. "Let me take some of you first," you insist. He isn’t so keen on it though.
"Just a few," you whine dodging him trying to take it from your hands.
"We're supposed to be quick." He reminds you. "And you know I'm not a fan of pictures of me."
 You not wanting to bicker. You hand it over to him. "But I will take pictures of you eventually," it’s a promise.
You quickly get posing on a spot you like, and he snaps several pictures. Some you were prepared for, while others were candid of you looking up a bird flying over, like you’ve never seen a bird before. or just in awe of the scene behind. Why do the birds seem so majestic here?
Jungkook smiles as he continues to take photos, forgetting the time. "I think that's enough. We're going to be late," you say, running out of poses to do.
You start walking to the car and he snaps one more picture of the scene before getting back and starting the car.  Whilst adjusting to the warmth he hands you the camera.
"These are so pretty," you bulge your eyes out at how good jungkook is at taking pictures. You can definitely see the difference. Jungkook can’t help but feel a sense of pride. You scroll through the camera, admiring more pictures.
Then you scroll a little too far and notice a series of photos featuring a friend—someone he seems to be close to. In one, she leans on his shoulder, a gesture that causes some type of discomfort or irritation. You couldn’t be sure, you’re too busy scrolling. She smiles too hard, you judge.
gosh you're pathetic. Why are you acting like this. The man is not your boyfriend he can do whatever. The statement causes an unwanted sour taste to form over your taste buds.
You continue to scroll, analysing the photos, each one deepening your insecurities.
"Careful, you're gonna damage the buttons," Jungkook jokes when he notices your rushed movement. He wonders what has you that way.
When he speaks, you’re brought back to reality. Though you’re brought back with an attitude. You switch off the device and lay it back where you found it, sitting back down with a scowl on your face and jungkook wonders the cause.
You had been fine just a moment ago. He doesn’t say anything and focuses fully on the road ahead. The silent drive to the cabin feels anything but aesthetic.
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You sigh as the car slows, leaving behind the snow-covered path. When you approach the cabin, it’s instantly recognizable from the photo. At least you weren’t lost or scammed. The place looks serene. It’s blanketed in snow. It’s not like those huge family ones. It’s small just to fit you and jungkook. You’d have no money to buy anything or activities if you booked those larger ones. And they’re unnecessary cause it’s just the two of you.
Jungkook parks the car, and as you both step out, the awkwardness that’s shadowed the trip returns. It had been there from the beginning, lingering beneath exchanges and strained silences. Brief moments, like taking pictures earlier, had been relieving, but even that had soured quickly. Now, neither of you had much to say.
The cabin’s host, a kind older man with a thick Swiss accent, greets you warmly, showing you around the cozy interior and pointing out the back patio before leaving. Once alone, you both quietly bring in the luggage. The silence is deafening, broken only by the crunch of snow you step on.
Due to your irritation that some how still lingered you step a little too hard on the icy ground, and in an instant, your foot slips. You land awkwardly in a mix of snow and dirt, the impact cushioned but still hurting.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook calls, his voice tinged with concern and amusement. He’d drop the luggage to come check on you if you hadn’t brushed him away with your hand.
Still irritated, now cause of the fall, you dust yourself off and move yourself inside. You drop the luggage in bedroom and start taking off your sweater, only to have Jungkook walk in moments later.
“One bed,” he states, looking at the large, centred piece of furniture. “Looks comfy.” You seem to have forgotten the cabin was lover’s themed, so it did only have one bed. The host had asked you if it was a problem when he saw the look on your face but you just brushed it away at you being tired.
You glance at the bed, then at him. “Yeah. Guess you’ll have to take the couch,” you joke, though your tone comes out flatter than intended.
“Nope.” He flops onto the bed, which creaks under his weight, making him pause to check if it’s broken. When it holds, he relaxes. “I’m sleeping right here.”
You sigh, deciding it’s not worth arguing. You’ve shared a bed before—it shouldn’t be a big deal so many times at that. But those times are not now and you have to deal with your new circumstance.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” you announce, expecting him to leave the room. Instead, he sprawls comfortably on the bed.
“Knock yourself out,” he replies casually.
Groaning, you grab your toiletries and head to the bathroom. The hot water feels like a gift, relaxing your tense muscles. If only the whole trip could feel this peaceful.
When you return, Jungkook is gone, though his shoes by the door confirm he hasn’t gone far. You search through your suitcase for a sweater, only to realize you packed just one sweater—the one now wet and dirty. Frustration bubbles as you grab a thin, long-sleeved shirt. It’ll have to do, though you doubt it’ll keep you warm in tomorrow’s outdoor activities.
Meanwhile, Jungkook in the kitchen has immersed himself in exploring the layout of it. whilst on his expedition his attention drifts to a tiny blue bird minding its business outside the window. He leans into it but carefully not to scare it away. Thankfully it doesn’t seem to find him a bother. “Got any advice for me?” he murmurs, taking a peek behind him. The bird doesn’t react, oblivious to his internal conflict. He’s unsure—about you, about himself, about what this trip is supposed to accomplish.
When you enter the kitchen and done talking to his new friend who doesn’t present him with anything viable but his company, he’s quick to point out the lack of groceries. “We should go shopping. It’s on your itinerary, right?” he teases lightly.
You nod, unsurprised he remembers. You’d always been the planner, the one who thought of everything. Maybe that’s why the breakup hurt so much—it came so suddenly, leaving no time to plan how to feel or move on.
As he’s about to suggest leaving immediately, he notices you rubbing your arms. “Aren’t you cold?” he asks, gesturing to your thin shirt.
“I’m fine,” you reply dismissively, though you clearly aren’t.
“Put on a sweater before you get sick,” he insists. His boyfriend instincts linger, even now.
You hesitate but eventually admit, “I forgot to pack an extra one.” The way how stares at you is so embarrassing for you.
Jungkook chuckles softly, though not unkindly. “Of course you did.” You roll your eyes. He moves to grab a sweater from his suitcase and hands it to you. “Here. Borrow this.”
You take it, the faint scent of his cologne that seems to be on everything he wears no matter how much he washes, invaded your senses. “Thanks,” you say quietly, slipping it on and hoping not to ruin this one too.
By the time you return from the store, exhaustion settles in. You both sit in the living room, cups of hot cocoa in hand. Jungkook flips through the channels while you sit quietly, the warmth of his sweater and the fire calming you.
“You’ve made a lot of friends in Jeju,” you say suddenly, your tone sharper than intended.
Jungkook pauses, confused. “What friends?”
“Colleagues, maybe? Customers? I saw the pictures on your camera,” you admit, staring into your cup instead of at him.
He leans back, waiting. He knows what you’re referring to and could explain that the woman in the photos was a client a little too excited and touchy about her wedding rehearsal photos, and had wanted photos with him. But he wants you to ask.
Instead, the silence stretches, filled with unspoken questions—questions about Jeju, the photos, the breakup, and even yourself. You sigh, pushing them aside.
“is there something you wanna ask?”
“There’s nothing I want to ask,” you finally say, though the bitterness in your voice betrays the truth.
Jungkook laughs softly, shaking his head. “I thought we agreed on pretending.” His voice is still soft.
“I know. Just don’t want you pretending if you’ve got other things going on.”
Jungkook chuckles taking a sip of his cocoa.” I’m good.”
“I’m good too.”
“Good.”
You watch him stand a sly smirk adoring his face. “let’s go back to pretending now, okay?” he says looking at you.
You mumble a sure and he walks off. Probably to sleep.
Sleeping the same bed is even more awkward. After spending some minutes you’d decide you were too tired to be awake, you came the bedroom.
Jungkook was still awake staring at his phone, and for some reason shirtless. He likes to sleep shirtless and the tension between you two isn’t going to stop him.
Jungkook tries to keep his eyes to himself as you change into your pajamas. You didn’t want to be childish so you just changed right there. It’s nothing he’s never seen before. He won’t act like the action doesn’t cause a rise in memories and he holds himself to not thinking further. Soon you’re crawling into your side and laying facing away from him. Jungkook chooses to lie on his back, the bed big enough for you to keep your distance. He turns off the lights but your eyes remain open staring into the dark.
As the night continues, none of you are able to fall asleep. Jungkook tries to make himself comfortable, his shifting cause you to think he might be moving closer, but he doesn’t. why do you feel sad. Your brain is used to being close to him and him holding you in situations like this. And he too is used to wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer into him. But there’s none of that.
“I can’t fucking sleep.” he groans frustratedly sitting up. He runs his hands in his hair. He looks over at you thinking you’re asleep, the darkness preventing him from actually knowing. He’s jealous at the idea of you being able to sleep, but when your frustrated voice sounds, he’s relieved. Relieved that he’s not the only not able to sleep.
“Same.” You mutter remaining on your side.
Jungkook huffs and puffs contemplating on asking what he’d been debating. Your bodies are probably used to sleeping closer to each other, so maybe that’s’ why it’s hard. You surely won’t mind if it means you get to sleep right?
He looks over to you and how far you seem from. He doesn’t like, hates the reality of it. “Can I sleep closer to you.” His words and the fact that he actually said takes you aback. You freeze. Your silence is killing him, he shouldn’t have said it. he should take it back, well—but he’s already sai-
“Okay.” Okay? Well, that was easy, he thought you’d be looking at him weird. but no, you just lay on your side waiting for him.
When he said closer you never thought he meant this close. You’re the closest you can be. But you don’t mind it, it actually brings you that giddy feeling, like it’s your first time cuddling. You realize just how much you missed it. He nuzzles his face in your neck and this is when he’d kiss your shoulder and neck but he doesn’t and the detail is gravely missed. He has to hold himself from not doing it.
“We’re going to move to the middle of the bed, darling.” It’s only then that you realize how much at the edge you were. You shuffle yourselves and move into the center and get comfortable in the position.
“Are you comfortable?”
So much you hate to say it. You can’t even bring yourself to be angry. “y-yeah.” You can barely respond coherently with how his voice is so close sending goosebumps all over you.
“Can I put my around you? It’s the only place I can put it.” he tries to explain, but you were actually hoping for it.
You nod for him to go ahead and he wraps his arm around you. Honestly, he should’ve just asked if he could cuddle you, because this is basically what you’re doing. He didn’t have to mask it; you’d have said yes either way. He doesn’t know that though.
Now that you’re close to him and him to you, you both weirdly fall asleep, very quickly at that.
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First thing on your itinerary was to visit the Lindt home of chocolate you’d been drooling at the thought of it since you planned this trip. It would honestly be a crime to visit Switzerland and not visit the Lindt factory. Being a lover of chocolate no activity on your list will be as good as this.
“I don’t know why they have us putting our bags away.” Jungkook whines taking off his jacket, as required and placing it in a locker. “How am I supposed to carry my chocolate.” His speech is almost childlike. You just chuckle.
 ” That’s why they do it.” You inform him, with a soft smile and start to walk ahead of him. Jungkook walks behind you, watching how you look around with wonder.
Did he mention how good he feels right now. The sleep he had last night was the best he’s had in a while. And it only serves to tell him how much he’s missed your presence. Just you as a whole. Being away from you for so long has had an effect on him too. It’s only now, that he’s not able to do all the things he used to do, that he realizes how much he’s missed it. And how much you mean to him.
“Oh my gosh.” Jungkook watches how you take in the aroma of chocolate. It invades his senses and when you’re turning around to check on him, he’s nodding. You want him to enjoy this just as you are.
You gasp and it’s when you spot the huge chocolate fountain that you pull Jungkook’s attention to it by his arm. “it’s so fucking huge.” You say still holding onto him.
“that’s what she said.”
You roll your eyes. “Grow up.” You both laugh. and it’s when you’re lost in laughter and admiring the fountain that jungkook looks down to see you still holding his arm. So, in a swift action of no thought, all instinct he moves to hold your hand.
Your head sharply moves to look at him then at his hand holding yours and then back up at him. He’s got this innocent smile on his face and you can’t help but warm up into his hold. You don’t mind the action of holding hands but you fear what it implies. Is he for real or still pretending?
For the first minutes you stay holding hands, until jungkook is pulling away to grab his camera. You rub you hands together to try and regain your sense of independence. What the heck are you doing, holding hands? This pretending thing Is a good idea, but it’s definitely messing with you in some way. All ways. He’s giving you things that you’ve been craving. The cuddle at night, the holding hands, you’ve missed it all. But you don’t know where it’s coming from, does he miss you too or is he pretending. To think of it you never really discussed what type of pretending you’re doing. Are you pretending to still be together or are you pretending to be good friends. Gosh this is so stressful. And confusing. You wonder if he’s stressing like you are. He seems calm. He’s handling this so well.
“Wait—I need a picture of you. Stand still.” He points the camera to you and you’re quick to turning your head away.
“it’s fine you don’t need to-” snap.
He doesn’t give you the time to object and just snaps. “Jungkook stop taking pictures of me.” He doesn’t. you’re embarrassed to be doing this in public. But he seems thrilled. “Okay wait-” he doesn’t so you choose to reaching for the Lense. But jungkook doesn’t mind filling his storage with pictures of your palm. “Kook, wait.”
“Kook?” he questions smiling. You realize your mistake. Honestly you didn’t mean to call him that, it just came out naturally for you to get him to stop. And it worked. Though now it shifts the air.
You groan. “I didn’t mean it like that.” You roll your eyes. You don’t even know what you’re saying.
He doesn’t linger on it more, which honestly helps your case. The blush on your face is deserving of a picture. Snap.
“Stop that before I revoke your privileges.” You threaten. He doesn’t want that.
He raises his hands in surrender. “won’t do it again.”
You ignore him and turn to keep walking.
“Can take more later though?”
You don’t answer, but he takes it as a yes. You’ve always been his muse, it’s not gonna stop now. His camara is now getting some action.
This place is actually so beautiful, smells amazing too. The pictures you saw did not do it justice.
“Look at the strawberries, the nuts. Ah—I’m in heaven.”
Jungkook smiles as he watches enjoy and pointing for him to look at the large container, of everything that goes well with chocolate. He’s really just happy that you’re including him, by telling him how much you freaking love this place or how you want to stay here forever. It makes him feel like things aren’t all that bad between the two of you and it can be fixed.
“Why are you looking at me like that.” You narrow your eyes at him. Gosh he forgot how long he was looking for. You’d been telling him something but he zoned out.
“Oh-nothing.” He clears his throat.
You just brush it off, cause if you linger on it, you’ll melt. Jungkook looking at you has been a weakness for you, there’s just something about him focusing on you and having only you in sight. “Anyway, I was saying try this.”
He doesn’t regain his consciousness before you’re bringing a spoon full of chocolate to his lips. he takes it, tasting the sweetness of it.
He licks the chocolate off his lips when you pull away. “Mmm
.so good.” You nod glad that he likes it. Though way he’s looking at you makes you think he might not be talking about the chocolate. You choose to ignore your thoughts with a cough.
As you go on you learn facts about chocolate and the factory and jungkook takes the pictures. When walking around you make sure to not forget to collect little pieces of chocolate from the dispensers. And it’s not long before your hands are getting full.
When your expedition is over, you’re returning to your bags to stuff them with your treasure.
“This is a lot of chocolate.” Jungkook states.
You shake your head. “it’s not that much.”
“Yeah of course an addict is telling me that.”
You gasp. “I’m not an addict.”
“Tell that to all the money I’ve spent buying you chocolate.” Money which it didn’t mind and loved spending.
“Honestly that’s all on you.” You say raising your hands. He chuckles.
Getting tired you both decide to go by the café inside the factory. Whilst there you both order some food to eat which is not chocolate, except you. For your beverage you picked to drink the famous hot cocoa. Which tastes like heaven made it themselves.
“How do I take this home with me?” you say motioning to your drink.
“Just stay.” He meant to say you both could just stay, but his tongue tripped.
You nod, thinking about it. “I could.” Moving to Switzerland and living here would be a dream. But unfortunately, things aren’t that easy. Finding a job would be hard, plus the language barrier would kill you.
“don’t.” he’s almost pleading. “I don’t know how I’d tell your family I lost you to Switzerland.” More like he doesn’t know how he’d fix things.
“Honestly it’s no competition.” You say in deep thought and analysis.
“What? you would leave me for Switzerland?” He says it not realizing causing you to chuckle. And when you look at him, he gets it.
The conversation doesn’t go farther after that. Jungkook just stays in his thought. When jungkook had made the decision to move. He honestly thought it wouldn’t be that bad. He’d plan on maybe moving you out to him when he settled down, but your job was a very hot topic. At the time he hadn’t realized how serious it was. But now he does.
If it was you moving, he’d be just as hurt. And it pissing him off that he hadn’t realize the impact.
For your second and last activity for the day, cause of the way time just flies by; is the largest indoor flea market.
You spend your time there; just looking around, eating, and buying stuff. During your move you make it a mission to take pictures of jungkook. And you do manage to take some good ones.
He also finds an opportunity to ask about your work and how it’s going. And if that co-worker that bothers you is still around. He’s glad to learn that she did get moved to another department. He’s happy with whatever makes you comfortable.
As you’re talking, you’re approached by a couple, older but not old and tourists as well. They ask you to take a picture of them and jungkook is glad to assist. When he’s done, they’re happy and offer to take a picture of you too, jungkook wants to decline the offer assuming you wouldn’t want to but you’re quick to accepting.
“you two look so lovely together.” The lady says and you have no clue what to say apart form an awkward thank you. You wouldn’t blame them for thinking you’re a couple, not with the way jungkook is smiling at the picture.
“Grow up kook.”
“What?” he whines. “It’s a good photo.”
You roll your eyes before walking away. He follows behind you, smiling.
-----
Soon your day on paper comes to an end and you’re returning to the cabin.
You did not know what to expect of your day in the morning. Your night was okay but would the rest of the day go the same? those were some of your thoughts. But to your pleasure the day went well, great even. You just hope it’s the same for the rest of the trip.
Jungkook is on cocoa duty (not assigned but he took the responsibility.) and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t do a good job at it every time.
Leaning against the counter holding your mug and watching him finishes up with his own, you watch.
“How’d you like the Lindt factory?”
He takes a sip before answering. “Great. Honestly enjoyed it more than I thought.”
“What? You don’t trust my judgement?” you watch as he leans on the counter opposite from you.
“it’s not that. Just never thought I was that big of a chocolate fan.”
You hum. Silence fills the kitchen as you’re just enjoying the drink. Why does the air feel so thick, is it the way he just leans there. Pajamas not doing a very good job at hiding his physique. Why the hell does he look buffer. Gosh, his arms look like they’d lift and lay you to your demise. In the morning you caught a glimpse of his shirtless torso, and you were about to lose your cool. To add gasoline to the fire he had just stepped out the shower and had not completely dried. Geez, if it wasn’t for your ability to leave the room, you don’t know what you would’ve done or said.
Jungkook has always had a keen eye for your little frustrated looks, the way you don’t blink, the way you wrap your hands around yourself or how you cross your legs. He knows. It’s the details he’s aware of. No one knows you like he does.
“I like this sweater on you.” He says pointing to the green sweater you’d just gotten back from the dry cleaners.
You look down at it. “Because it’s yours?” you raise a brow as you take a sip of your cocoa.
He shakes his head looking your body up. “no. because you look good in it.” He’s biting his lip, then his playing with that little lip ring. Yn, hold yourself.
You choke out a chuckle. “Jungkook.” It’s a warning for him. But he doesn’t take it.
“What? It’s not my fault you look good in all my clothes.” gosh you’re gonna die choking on this liquid. “Makes me want to just hand over my closet to you.” He’s coming closer to you, gosh what the fuck, he approaches but it’s the sink you’re standing in front he wants. You move. He rinses his mug, tired of the drink.
“Well, that won’t be necessary.” you say sliding away from his towering figure. Just to catch your breath, cause you’ve been holding it. Jungkook laughs at the movement. Just after, you’re rinsing your cup and placing it in the cupboard. You’re not gonna die choking on cocoa, or jungkook as a matter of fact.
“Think I’m going to bed.” You state thinking the bedroom will be your only place of solace away from him.
“Me too. I’m getting sleepy.”
You’re stiff as he walks behind you. You hope you’ll be able to sleep on your own tonight. Cause if jungkook just as much as touches you, you’ll turn into a puddle.
You’re quick to moving to your side and facing away from him as to not see him taking of his shirt. You know because you hear it drop.
“Goodnight.” He says turning off the light.
With all your might you mumble a goodnight to him too.
Tonight, you manage to fall asleep without cuddling. You sleep back-to-back close enough to feel the heat radiating off the other.
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Jungkook wanted, so badly to go skiing after seeing an advertisement for it and saw some people do it on your way to the cabin. You’re not one for these intense sports but since he went with you to the Lindt factory, you thought it’d only be fair to go as well. Just accompany him.
Though his won’t be sweet and rewarding.
“You wanna go with me?” he asks teasingly and you shake your head, as soon as you process his words.” come on.” He whines.
“I’ll just cheer you on from down here.” The process of skiing looks terrifying. What do you mean you had to go on those zip line things, and slide down. Not you. Nope.
“it’s not that bad. You’ll be with me.”
Though it sounds comforting it doesn’t change anything. “I’ll just stay here looking around and taking pictures for you.” You smile hoping it convinces him.
He chuckles, his bunny smile on show for you.” baby what are you so scared of?” the pet name comes out smoothly, catching you by surprise. But it does seat itself in and warm your heart.
“it’s just scary.” You wrap your arms around your body.
He sighs watching you closely. “Fine, but can we do something as exciting, later.” He stares at you scattering your brain for what he could be referring to. “Like ice skating.” Oh—he was thinking ice skating. Last night has your mind in a whirlwind.
“That sounds better.” Jungkook laughs cause it’s basically the same thing, but he won’t get into it.
“Okay then.” He says walking to the register. “we’ll do that later.” It’s a promise.
Jungkook is off skiing and you’re sat in doors, still able to watch the outside activities, landscape and events thought the large window. You don’t mind not going skiing, it’s not like it was on your list.
While you’re sat you decide it’d be a good time to call jimin and let him in on your trip so far.
“it’s not as awkward, anymore. It was at first. But then we just agreed to just enjoy the trip for the sake of our money.”
“The sake of your money?” he mocks.
You choke out a laugh. “Yes, for the money.” Is it? “he’s been nice and all. It’s actually not bad.” Jimin hums as he listens, this time at least you have his attention.
You’ve shockingly enjoyed the trip more than you thought, so far. If you just keep on, the whole trip could go well and you’d be back to your normal lives. You hate the sickness you feel at the thought. The trip will end, it is gonna end and you’ll be back to what you were before. Gosh.
“Sounds like the trip is going a little too well.”
You scoff. “it’s not that, we’re both just chill.”
“No fucking or kissing.”
You gasp and look around like someone could’ve heard that, but your phone is to your ear. “jimin! Oh my gosh.” The thought of it has you blushing still.
“Just sayin’. Jungkook’s probably dying. ”
You roll your eyes. He’s fine, you’re fine.
You go on talking but soon you have to end the call. Immediately you cut the call and stuff your phone in your pocket a figure sits next to you. Male, not jungkook. You pay no mind to him. you’re on a public bench anyone can sit next to you. He’s just in his own business. Is what you think until he’s reaching over to talk to you.
“Exciting isn’t it.” when he speaks you catch his foreign accent, not Swiss. Must be a tourist like you.
You awkwardly furrow your brows. “Huh?”
“Skiing.” He points.
Then it clicks that that’s what he’s talking about.
“I presume.” You say modestly. Why the heck is he talking to you.
“Presume? Haven’t you gone?”
“no.” You shake your head chuckling. “it’s not for me.”
“You can’t say that. You haven’t even tried.” You internally roll your eyes. Why does he seem to care so much. “Plus, why come to Switzerland in the winter and not try skiing.”
You don’t know why you carry on this conversation, but you feel like justifying yourself. “Honestly I just came for the Lindt factory.” You say shamelessly causing the stranger to laugh. he doesn’t seem like a weirdo or creep, but you can never know. He’s probably not talking to you out of pure interest. So, you try to keep your distance.
“you’ve been?”
“Yeah. Yesterday.”
He hums sound interested and you know this conversation isn’t ending anytime soon. “How was it?”
You scoff internally. “It was fun. Would recommend you’ll love it.” You don’t even know him; how would you know he’d like it. And to be fair you’d add that Jungkook’s presence made the place more exciting to be at. You assume he doesn’t have a jungkook. Speaking of jungkook, how long is he going to be? You should’ve just gone out on a walk instead.
He nods. “Well maybe you can show me.” You pause, okay now you’re starting to get uncomfortable. “I’m sorry I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that I came alone and it would be nice to have someone show me around.” He justifies but it doesn’t make you any more comfortable. “I’d pay for your ticket if that’s the issue.”
You chuckle. “I’m a tourist to, there’s not much I can show you.”
“I mean you’ve visited the Lindt, so you know more than me.” Gosh he’s so adamant.
You smile awkwardly wishing jungkook would just pop up.
“you’d be better off going with someone else.” You’re looking around as if you’ve lost something. The man catches on to the action.
“Am I making you uncomfortable.” Yes. very.
“No-” before you can finish your lie of a statement, Jungkook’s interrupts, voice anything but kind.
“Yes, you are.” He says firmly, body not open for discussion.
The guy turns to look at you, then jungkook, then back at you. “Do you know him?”
Hesitantly you respond. “yeah” you debate on what to say. “He’s a friend.” He is isn’t he?
Friend? Jungkook chuckles internally. “Excuse us.” He spits out to the man.
The guy is taken aback, but just stands. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You just nod and give him an awkward smile as he walks away.
You sigh relieved that he’s gone.
 You and jungkook share a glance before he’s sitting down.
“Friend?” Jungkook asks when he sits next to you.
You raise a brow. “What? you wanted me to lie?”
“Lie?” he says even stronger. You don’t know what he’s pointing to right now.
“Are you parrot?” You chuckle trying to get smart with him.
Jungkook scoffs at how you avoid his eyes. “You couldn’t have said I was your boyfriend.”
“But you’re not.” You spit out a little quickly.
When you turn to look at him you catch how his jaw clenches. And if you weren’t arguing right now, you’d think it’s the hottest thing. “But you could’ve just lied so he leaves you alone. Now he’s probably going to try to approach you again.”
“he’s not going to.” You say naively.
Jungkook is getting frustrated with this, a little more than he should. “I know guys like that, he’s going wait for a time when I’m not around and attack.”
“Attack?” you laugh at his word choice. Your laughter only serves to his anger. “You’re being dramatic”
“I’m not being dramatic, I’m being serious” his statement comes out a little strong and louder than you’d like
“don’t yell.” You warn him and he apologizes. “I get you feel like you need to protect me, but relax.”
He laughs at the way you think. You thinking he’s feeling like he needs to, no, he needs to. He wants to.
“I don’t feel like, I need to, I want to.”
You don’t say anything, he knows he’s got you, what more could you say. There’s nothing. Jungkook is the protective type, has always been. He’s shown you that many times in your relationship. And then, it made sense but now you feel like he shouldn’t have to bother himself with it. You’re not his responsibility anymore. “We should get ready to go for lunch.” you stand walking away.
Jungkook follows after you, knowing you’re now gonna give him attitude. Your folded arms are evidence of that. He’d normally just kiss the attitude away but for obvious reason he can’t.
-
“you’re not gonna ask how skiing was?” He tries really hard to open the air for conversation. He hates it when you argue. So, he tries to everything he can to lighten the air.
You stare down at your food. Your eyes not meeting him once. “How was it?” you don’t even sound interested which you hate because you are. You love to hear jungkook talk about things he loves.
“It was great.” He explains not into going into much detail like he wanted to. Your energy demoralizes him. “I’m sure they’re still open if you still want to try. He suggests but you’re quick to shaking your head.
When he’s about to say something, he’s getting interrupted. It’s a girl, the one he met when skiing. She showed him around some routes since she’s a local.
“Yn, this is Lena. I met her whilst skiing.” He says introducing you. “Lena this is yn, my friend.”
Fuck now you know how bad it stings.
“Hey yn. How are you liking you trip so far?” she asks politely in an accent.
You stare her up, taking in her features. She looks about your age, and gorgeous. Why is your body so rigid. Speak. “Umm- hi-I’m liking it well enough. Thanks.” you can hear how stiff and awkward your speech is. Gosh yn she hasn’t done anything to you, chill. Smile.
Jungkook breaks into your awkward encounter. “I’m gonna be seeing you at the ice rink, right?”
He says and she smiles a little too hard. You roll your eyes. What does he mean he’s gonna see her there. Is the a you and him trip anymore? Your food doesn’t look as appetizing anymore. “Yeah. I’m there often during the holidays.”
The way her voice rings in your head is jarring. Make it stop.
Soon your prayers are answered and she’s leaving. Though unlike her your heavy heart stays.
Jungkook turns to you, still staring at her route of exit. “You, okay?” your eyes return.
You shift your eyes to your hands. “Yeah, I’m just tired.” You stand from the table choosing to leave. “I think I’m gonna stop by the cabin.”
Jungkook is confused. But he just takes you as you are.
“Sure, let me get-” he threatens to stand.
“no. I’ll just take a train.”
He sits down. If you want to be alone it’s best if he lets you be.
When you get to the cabin, all alone. You find yourself falling into deep thought.
The pretend play you and jungkook are playing is good for you to enjoy the trip, but you won’t deny how much it only covers your true feelings. You play pretend and feel all these feelings as though you’re still together and then the trip ends and you’re sucked into being apart.  And it’s him leaving all over again.
You’re getting sick of it. There’s only so much pretending you can do.
Jungkook: ice skating later today?
He wants to be sure you haven’t changed your mind.
Not matter your emotions you still want to enjoy the trip.
You: sure. Meet you there.
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When you make it to the ice rink, your mood is still tense from lunch, which is your fault for holding on to the emotions for so long. To only sour your mood more, you spot jungkook talking to the Lena girl from lunch.
You roll your eyes and watch how she giggles a little too hard at something he says. Jungkook is a funny guy, but she shouldn’t be laughing, whatever he’s said can’t be that funny. This is so irritating. Why the hell is she even here.
When jungkook spots you, he has on a huge grin, but the sour look on your face has him dropping it. He thought maybe you wouldn’t be still upset by now. But he’s wrong. “Yn you’re here.” He says it like he wasn’t expecting you and you weren’t meant to be here, or that’s how you hear it.
“We made plans, didn’t we?” your tone is nothing more than flat and irritated.
“We did.” He turns. “You remember Lena?” He turns to point at her, like you can’t see her. Why’s she looking at you.
Oh, could you forget her. “I do.” You jeer.
“Hi.” she with her perfect smile. You’d liked to punch it in—your of course—you’d never actually so it.
“Hey.” It comes out awkward and strained. Wanting to get things over with you turn to jungkook immediately. “what’re we doing now?”              
“Um. We’ll have to get the skates.” He turns to Lena for some type of consultation, you scoff.
 “Yeah, this way.” she says turning to lead the way.
Jungkook turns to you, your folded arms the first thing he sees. He stands next to you. “You get here okay?” you didn’t arrive together which means you had to take public transport, which he knows you don’t mind but he just wants to check on you.
“Yeah.” You mutter before walking ahead of him. Do you even know where you’re going?
You want to enjoy it, but the emotions that are ahead of you block you from doing so completely. And of course, Lena is a pro at skating.
Jungkook is fairly good, for someone who’s just taken it up. You’d attribute that to his quick learner personality.
You on the other hand are struggling, and it’s pissing you off. You hold on to the half wall and glide. There’s a good amount of people around and honestly, it’s embarrassing. -like- there are even small kids better at it than you. It’d be better if you just stopped. There are probably other activities you could do. Ice skating (or skiing) is not the end all be all of Switzerland.
Jungkook would probably enjoy skating more with Lena, seeing that they skied together earlier. You question why jungkook even ever liked you in the first place. You’re not cool like Lena or even as adventurous, you do try but you don’t feel it’s enough. He’s better off with someone like her. It’s good you broke up so that he can be free to do whatever. The thought stabs at your heart.
Jungkook spots you from where he is walking out. The look on your face anything but happy. He’s swift to skating to you, making sure not to bump into anymore with how fast he’s moving. “Where you going?”
His concerned and soft voice only intensifies your frustration. Could he not see how irritated and bad at this you are. He was probably too busy to notice. He’s always busy.
 “You haven’t even travelled the while ring.” He chuckles awkwardly as you step off. He follows.
“I don’t know, I’m just not feeling it.” You don’t even dare look at him, because you know if you do your frustration will win and you’ll end up yelling or crying. And both are too embarrassing to do in public.
Jungkook scoffs. Jungkook can’t tell what’s going on with you but it’s definitely disturbing your ability to enjoy anything. He wants you to enjoy. But what’s irritating him is how you don’t want to communicate what you’re feeling to him. He’s always made himself a safe space for you to open up. But you never take it. Ever since he m0ved you’ve been distant, physically and emotionally. It’s frustrating cause all he wants is to be close to you in all ways. “You were not feeling skiing and now you’re not feeling this?”
Is he blaming you for not enjoying this? It’s not your fault you feel this way. You don’t even want to be feeling like this. You do want to enjoy skating, gosh you want to, so bad. But there’s just so much you’re holding on too that pretending can’t solve.
“Jungkook I’m not any good at this.” You gesture around eyes starting to sting when you watch how other people have fun while you argue. “You just go have fun with your Leni or Lena whatever.” You act like you aren’t sure of her name.
It’s the way you say it, the force and strain in the word. The way you look to the crowd in a jittering stare looking for her that let’s jungkook know what this is all about. Did it come off like that? She’s just a girl he met whilst skiing, he honestly never thought that far. Never thought you’d be thinking of it.
“Is this because of her?” he questions eyebrows furrowed trying to look at your face that’s staring down. Why the hell are this shoe laces so hard to untie. you just want to cut them off, but you’d probably have to pay for damages. Shit
Your frustration is replaced with another type of embarrassment, when jungkook is on his knee to replace his hands with yours to help you take the laces off. You just want the ground to swallow you right now. Unlike you Jungkook’s calmness is able to take the laces off. He tries to help you into your other shoes but you just brush him off. He moves.
Standing up and looking at you he asks. Voice calm like usual. “Is it?” you’d even forgotten his previous question. Do you have to answer him?
“I don’t know how it would be when you two are off to the other side of the ring. I’ve barely talked to her.” That’s exactly the problem why the heck do you feel like this when you haven’t gotten to know the girl. You barely know her intentions.
“It is.”
You groan rolling your eyes. “If you want help skating, I can help you. I’m sorry that I got carried away.” It’s probably one of the things you’re mad about. He just fucking left you like you didn’t make plans to come here together. Yeah, maybe your attitude made the distance between you, but he should know how to deal with it by now. Gosh you’ve been together for a good 3 years. He should know how you are.
And he does. That’s why he insists you’re acting like this cause of Lena. well, she’s probably just a catalyst and there’s something deeper that you two have to address.
You stand looking up at him, but he’s towering figure doesn’t make you as intimidating as you want to feel. “You don’t have to be sorry about anything, why? Cause you always know what you’re doing.”
“You know it’d be better if you just said it directly.” Whatever it is, because he wants to know. You want to walk past him but his hand around your wrist stops you. You look at it then at him. He’s not smiling, but not mad. Just concerned.
“I don’t--I’m not saying anything.” You snatch it form his grip and he lets you.
Jungkook’s face scrunches up in frustration. “That’s what you always say, then pull shit like this.”
You pause and stare at right in his--round eyes that are now, siren. “Shit like what?”
“This. Your fucking attitude.” He almost loses his tone but remembers that you’re in public, which is so fucking embarrassing. “You never want to talk about things.” He looks around for any watching eyes.
You just glare at him. Maybe you don’t like expressing yourself to him anymore. You’ve noticed it too. It had been hard for you to express yourself to him over a call, and sometimes shitty network. There had been days where you wanted to cry on his shoulders but only had the screen to rely on, so guess what you did. Nothing. You didn’t cry, you didn’t tell him anything. You’d just cry on your pillow after the call ends. “Maybe I don’t cause I know you won’t listen.”
That’s a hit to his ego. To him as a person.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I always listen to you.” The blank look on your face has him questioning himself. “of course, I’m not perfect.”
You chuckle bitterly.
“Just go off to your little girlfriend.” And there it is, a confirmation of what he already knew.
You start walking to the entrance. And he follows. Shoes on. He’s not going to be able to skate with the heaviness in his heart. He’d end up sinking into the ice, which doesn’t sound so bad right now. “Come on.” He swiftly moves to standing Infront of you. He blocks you from moving and you just give up and just decide to look at his jaw, not wanting to look directly at him. Which was not a good idea, cause of how he clenches it. You look up into his eyes. “you’re jealous?”
“Who?” he’s a parrot and now you’re an owl, he wants to say but finds it inappropriate for your mood.
“You are so jealous.”
“I’m no-”
“don’t lie to me.” You try to push at his chest for him to move out of your way, but your plan backfires giving him leeway to hold your hand firmly to his chest. Hard as a rock even through he’s sweater. “Tell me why you’re jealous.”
Instead of answering him directly you try to change the topic. You swear you can feel his heart beat through his sweater.
“Don’t act like I couldn’t see you jealous too when that guy approached me.” You try to one-up.
“I was jealous.” His confession has you wanting you dig a hole and hide yourself. It’s so easy for him to say, you weren’t even enjoying your conversation with that guy. “Difference with me is that I can say it.”
Shit. Shit. What do you say now. Get angrier, that always works, well not really.
“Whatever. I’m not jealous.” You look away from him. Are you really doing this in public. Jungkook doesn’t look like he gives a fuck right now, he just wants an answer. One which he’s not going to get.
“Tell me what you’re so jealous about?” his voice lowers
“How many times do I have to say I’m not jealous.” Till you can’t deny it anymore, the thought runs through Jungkook’s mind.  “Just go have your fun.” You finally decide you’re tired of feeling his heart beat perfectly.
“you’re so ridiculous y’know.” He watches you move slight away, anger not faltering one bit. You’re determined to being upset. “can’t we just talk about this. It seems to be bothering you.”
It is. It’s fucking gnawing at your heart, your lungs, your mind.
“Nothing’s bothering me, I’m fine.” You breathe in, relaxing and calming down just a bit. “I just don’t want to be out there all on my own, while you’re having fun with some else.” Jungkook licks his lip. He doesn’t have anything else to say. What he has to say can’t be said here or whilst you’re unable to hear.
“I’m going home.” You pass by him and he doesn’t bother turning to watch you walk out.
“Korea?” it’s possible for you to want to leave. And the thought causes him to bite down hard on his bottom lip. Cause if you leave on these terms, nothing’s gonna change and he’d never get another chance. You’d avoid him like the plague.
“No, the cabin.” You state and he’s relieved. “Have fun.”
“Everything okay?” jungkook is startled by Lena’s voice who walked around to find him after she noticed he was gone.
“Yeah.” You force a smile. “I’ll just get going.” He informs her. He already has his stuff so there’s no need for him to go back inside. “Thanks for getting us in, though we didn’t even stay long.”
“No problem. It was fun, wish I got to talk to her.”
“Yeah, she isn’t normally like that.” Cause you aren’t.
“I understand.”
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You don’t immediately go to the cabin. Instead, you go to the sauna you had been eyeing. It could probably be the only way to relax you. The sweat dripping down will mask the real tears falling down your face. You’re glad you’re alone right now.
You have your head leaned back thinking about what had just previously happened. The thoughts not wanting to leave you.
You hear the door open but you don’t bother looking, you’ve got a lot to think about. “hey stranger..” the familiar voice speaks just as shocked. You sharply open your eyes. Wondering if it’s you he’s speaking to but you’re just the two of you in here.
You’re just the two of you.
“didn’t expect to find you here.” He says setting himself down just in front of you and you looking at him oddly. Do you have bad luck?
“hmm” you chuckle awkwardly. You make a plan to gradually scoot yourself to the door. Being with him here does make you uncomfortable but you try to stay to enjoy what’s left of your time. You expect silence but the man doesn’t see on the same level. “Went to the Lindt factory like you said. Was honestly the best of everything.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” you say like you’re a worker at the factory or care.
“It would’ve been better if you came too.”
You awkwardly chuckle and finally decide to sit up. You came here to think and relax but this guy couldn’t be more of a bother. “I’m sure I would’ve just made it worse.”
He chuckles and smiles your way. A smile you do not reciprocate “I doubt.”
“Is your friend around?” Now you should fucking leave.
“Mm?” you ask like you didn’t hear. Fucking sirens are blaring. He’s not giving off I’m gonna leap at your vibe. It’s more of his inability to give up that bugs you. “Oh- ahh yeah. He’s gonna be here.”
He turns to look at the door like Jungkook’s about to walk through the door, but he doesn’t. gosh you wish he would. “isn’t it hard to have male friends like him.” You look at him brows furrowed, confused. You wait for him to elaborate and he’s quick to it. “Protective.” He says.
“how?”
“makes it hard for you to live your live and get to know people.” You laugh. it’s not like jungkook has his hands on you and pulling you away from people who want to talk to you. He’s actually for it but he just has a good discernment of creeps. As you sit here you reflect on his words from before when you initially met the guy. Gosh you should really start listening to jungkook. Makes you realize how right he is—sometimes--
“no.” your tone is sharp that the soft one you’d been giving him.
He shakes his head. He lifts his hands in defence saying, “I think he’s doing too much.” Now you’re getting upset, visibly so, which is not lost to the man. Who the fuck does he thinks he is. He’s the one doing too much, “I’m not some weirdo, I promise.” He hasn’t shown any signs of it yet, but you don’t give a fuck and you’re not gonna wait around for him to show it.
“I think you’re doing too much.” You snare abruptly standing up. He can tell the irritation on your face and is about to defend himself but you’re quick to cutting in. you’re not about to have it.
“I don’t know how your long your trip is but if you see me around, please don’t speak to me.”
“Wait.” You don’t.
Sauna time done you decide to go back to the cabin, feeling anything but relaxed. Daylight already lost.
Today has honestly knocked you out, as though you’ve done anything energy straining. It’s more of an emotional strain. When you walk in jungkook isn’t anywhere to be seen. So, you just assume he never got back. Makes you wonder where the hell he is and why he didn’t tell you, but you’re in no place to convict him cause you never informed him of your sauna endeavours as well. You’re both grown adults and can move around Switzerland without the other—but—why do you feel entitled to know where he is. You lost those privileges when you broke up and now when you left him at the rink.
Maybe a steamy shower will do what the sauna didn’t finish cause of you interruption. After that you decide to end your night early, you’ve got nothing to do after all.
you toss and turn in bed, barely able to get a linear sleeping time. Everything just feels so weird and off. Even worse than in the beginning. It’s all a different type of awkward, which you hate. Jungkook isn’t sleeping next to you which prompts you to checking the time.
1:39am your phone tells you.
Where the hell is he, you’re starting to get scared. You’re not worried about his safety cause jungkook is very capable in that sector, --well unless he got shot—shot?  Why are thinking of that. Who’d fucking shot him, let alone in Switzerland. He’s never been in any trouble with the law or anyone. You’re getting paranoid, if you don’t see jungkook in the flesh, well and not wounded, you’re gonna lose your mind.
Putting on the sweater that has been a staple and carried you through the trip you walk out the bedroom to the open floor living room. you sigh when you don’t spot jungkook. You won’t be able to go back to sleep even if you wanted to. Cause you don’t feel like it and are losing your mind. As you’re standing in the living room like an anxiety ridden mom waiting for their teenager child at midnight, you hear it. It’s wood chopping sounds. Harsh and fast. You do have some cabins around you so it could be your neighbours—but no--the sound is closer to yours, like it’s just outside. So, you curiously walk to the door which would lead you closer to the sound. Maybe you aren’t as afraid cause you assume it’s jungkook. And it is.
You relax when you spot his figure well and healthy.
He doesn’t notice as you stand watching him. bottom lip chewed down on. Why the hell is he chopping wood at 1 in the morning.
You want to say something. You need to. Maybe apologize about what happened at the rink, you have a fair share in the argument. Since waking up or maybe after the sauna you realized how childish your behaviour was. You ruined the moment. When you could’ve just asked jungkook to help you and he would’ve been there, hadn’t you chosen to give into your irritation. Irritation of seeing him with a woman. There you said it.
His muscles flex as he moves to drop the axe down on the wood.
This is not what you want for you and jungkook. Arguing and not able to talk or share air. It’s not what you want. Even if things do officially end, you’d want to end it on calm and friendlier terms.
As you watch him you notice how his jaw tightens. He’s not just chopping wood. You start to worry for him when his movements grow harsher, of the larger chunk of wood.
“What did the wood do to you?” you try to be neutral.
He didn’t notice you behind him. So, he’s startled by the sound of your voice. Turning to look at you holding yourself in the door way, he chooses to take a break. He got so carried away he forgot he was cutting wood for the fire place and had cut too much. He drops the axe into snow. “Ditched me at the ice rink.” He says going to pick up some pieces of wood to bring inside.
Fuck you feel so bad. You stay silent watching him until he’s brought all the wood in and finally closing the door. Which allows for the warmth from the now blazing fire to fill the house. Now in warmer climate, jungkook takes off his large sweater and you drop your arms that were still wrapped around you.
“I’m sorry about that.” You mumble softly. He stands at the sink, you assume to make himself something warm.
“it’s okay, it’s not like I went all the way to stay in touch with some girl so she could get me—us--a good deal at the ice rink. Then I take you there and you ditch the thing entirely.”
You do feel horrible about to, but his tone irritates you causing you to respond as just that. Which you immediately regret.
“I left you with her, weren’t you happy with that.” You have an interesting way of saying things that bother you.
Jungkook pauses his actions and stares at you with a seriously confused face. He scoffs. You’re not making sense. “You know that’s not what I wanted.” He returns to his mug. “I wanted to spend it with you.” His voices calms.
Fuck. Uhm what do you say. You should probably say you’re sorry. “I’m sorry.”
Jungkook just listening. He just doesn’t understand, he wishes you could just be straight forward. Frustrated and tired of hiding behind a task, he drops the cup to give you, his attention.
“Did I say something wrong?” you stand where you are but jungkook moves. To you. You panic but he doesn’t walk closer than a few feet from you. You don’t know how you’d handle yourself if he came any closer. At the rink you almost died. “At the rink?” he clarifies like you’re not fully aware. He just wants to make sure that you’re on the same page. Cause you can think of other times he might have feared he’d said something wrong.  “I honestly shouldn’t even have started talking to her.” He rubs a hand over his face.
Jungkook has never been malicious to you in your friendship before or relationship. Or even now. He’s been cordial. He’s the only man who’s treated so well and calmingly. Of course he has his imperfections, you both do. But it doesn’t take from how well he’s treated you. He never crosses a line.
“it’s not even that.” You’re looking off to the side and holding yourself again,
Gosh, he’s really holding himself right now. He bites his lower lip and clenches his jaw to hold himself back from just walking up to you and making you look him in the eyes. “Then what’s wrong. Please talk to me.” He pleads.
“I don’t know,” you whisper still looking beyond him, your voice is barely audible.
He’s begging, really for you to just tell him something. “Please don’t say that.” He responds, his tone a mix of frustration and pleading. He steps closer just a few centimetres away, if you unfolded your arms you’d probably bump into his chest.
“I don’t-” you start but your voice cuts you off, “it’s the way you-” you aren’t able to finish. What are you going to do with yourself. This is embarrassing, you can barely form or organize your thoughts and your mouth can barely move to speak. You’re not even going to talk about how hard it is for you to look him in the eyes. You just settle with staring at his other supporting features. His hair, his ears (that are red from what you assume is frustration—it’s not--), his eyebrows and then you skip to look at his nose--
“was it me talking to that girl?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You push away slightly.
“But we have--you know what--I want to.” He moves to block your action of walking away. You thought you were strong enough. You thought you’d manage to talk about this. But you can’t. not when it makes you want to cry.  “I want to talk about it.” His voice is stern but not harsh. It’s just strong enough to let you know he’s not letting this go. It’s funny how something so insignificant can cause you to be in this situation. Forced to express and confront your emotions, the one’s you’ve been running from since the trip began, the one’s you told yourselves you’d pretend didn’t exist. You fooled yourselves by dodging the topic.
Now you’re here. “While we’re at it we can talk about why you broke up with me.” He’s not asking if you can talk about it, he’s telling you it has to be talked about and he’s not gonna let it go by. Not this time.
At his words, all your emotions unite to form a single unit of defence. “me? you agreed too.” You point at him face scowling.
“I only did cause it’s what you wanted, and I didn’t want to hold you back.”
You stare confused. “Hold me back from what?” what the fuck does he think you’ve been doing. You hope he doesn’t think you’ve been out and about since breaking up, that’s been the last thing on your mind.
“From living the life, you wanted to, without me.” His upset at the thought leading his voice to come out a little passive aggressive.
He does think that, you can see it. “Without you? I don’t want that.” You state. “But how can I live a life with you when you’re miles away, always busy. And can barely visit.” You just talk. Finally, your gears are moving. But the problem is that so are the tears. “You moving away is you choosing to live without me too.” You choke on your words a little. “Even I didn’t want to tie you to me or hold you back from your dreams that’s why I tried to li- live with it, but it got so unbearable kook. I couldn’t take it. it felt like I was alone. In fact, I was alone.”
Jungkook feels sick hearing that you felt alone.
“You know I did try.” His voice is soft, moving himself into your circle. You let him. He can’t help himself but cup your cheek. The action feels comforting, almost relieving. At least he’s here and you’re not talking over the phone, makes it much easier for you to sink into his touch.
You hold the wrist that’s caressing your cheek. Gosh you want to keep his touch here forever. “I know that’s what hurts more you tried but it still wasn’t enough. I really did want it to work. I still do.” On your last sentence you look up at him and he’s already staring at you, the thump of his other hand coming swiftly to wipe your stray tears. You sniffle. “Cause honestly I’ve missed you kook.” You feel comforted playing with the end of his sweater.  “So much. I miss how we were before you moved. When it was easier for us to be together.” your fingers take a journey from the bottom of his sweater to the neck.
Your palms lay flat on his chest and his hands move to softly hold your wrist, not to move you away but you keep there.
“I know we said we’d pretend. A-and I thought I could. But I can’t kook.” On cue with his name, you look up at him. “fuck- I never knew how much I hate seeing you talk to other—" you can’t finish your sentence, but it’s okay cause he’s finished for you in his mind. “I’m sorry for attitude.”
He glides his hands from your wrists down your arms until they are both on your waist. “I’m sorry too.” He’s pulling you closer, your hands still on his chest, but now for stability. “I’m so sorry I was too distracted for you. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t serve that.” He’s caressing your back. “okay?” you have to answer but you can only bring yourself to nodding. All he’s ever wanted was to know. Know what was wrong and how he could fix it.
“I’ve missed you too.” He smiles lightly bringing his nose to brush against yours. The action has you tilting your head upwards. His lips itch to touch yours, but they don’t they just hover, he still has more to say. And he wants to say it close enough for you to feel it. “If only you knew how I dreaded every morning and realized you weren’t next to me. Every time I just wanted to fly back home.”
“So, what stopped you.” You’re looking at his lips. his rosy and moist lips from how hard he’s been biting and licking on that. You wanna do that. You wanna kiss him, wanna be the only biting down on his lips.  you wanna do a lot of things right now. You wanna run your hands through his hair remind yourself of its texture, you wanna lift that sweater off, that holds his cologne so well, the earthy lavender scent, that crawls its way through your system. You wanna take that sweater off him, --feel, see—just how much that gym membership as proved itself valuable. You know you won’t be disappointed, jungkook loves the fucking gym.
“I don’t even know. But all I know is that it’s not gonna stop me anymore.” Him nudging his nose closer has you tilting your head to meet his lips. the air between you feels heavy. The feeling pulling your lips to meet. And when the do, it’s fervent. His kiss is urgent but slow, not wanting to be apart from you for a second.
 Your bodies are hooked together as Jungkook is moving you back into a wall. The kiss intensifies when he leans your head back with his hand around your neck. You’re gripping onto his sweater for support and breathing him in for life.
Jungkook clings onto your lips for life too, even if he needs to breath he doesn’t stop. You moaning into his mouth will suffice. He doesn’t know where to keep his hands. Should he use them to tilt your head back to deepen the kiss, (if he goes any deeper he’s gonna sink.) whilst he uses the other to pull you leg up by your thighs, his grip surely leaving crescent moons as decorations. He doesn’t know what to do with them. For the moment he uses them to pull he sweater over his head. You’ve been clawing at it to come off.
Now shirtless you can feel his skin for what you remember it to be silky-smooth. So delicate that you fear leaving scratch marks on him, but jungkook encourages it, he begs you to do it. Your hands roam his body, first his large back, muscles flexed, then down his firm chest then down to his defined midsection. “What am I to do with all this.” You say breathless.
“You tell me. It’s all yours.” Your lips are meeting again. Tongues tagging at each other. For some reason the rich, sweet and completely irresistible taste of chocolate lingers on your lips, but he loves it and is drinking it up.
Jungkook finds that his hands are better at gripping your thigh and lifting it to wrap around his waist. His core moves into you and you feel how hard he is against you. You’re thankful for his thin pajama pants.
Your hands pull at the root of his hair, though it’s shorter you make it work, making him groan into your mouth. You both can’t fucking breath at this point, which is the only reason you’re pulling away. Your heavy breaths brushing against each other.
“jungk-” you’re moaning for him to take you to bed but he’s steps ahead of you. Your feet don’t have to fret cause he’s lifting you by the thighs to lay you on the edge of the bed.
You lay back on the bed but legs on his shoulder, he’s kneeling between your legs. Your pants are still on but not for long. In a swift motion you’re left in your plain black panties. The ones with the little bow. He chuckles at the detail. When you see what he’s laughing at you get self conscious. Jungkook looks up at you confused why you’re closing your legs.
“I didn’t know we’d be in this position, so these are the one I brought.” You try to explain yourself cheeks blushing red. He doesn’t know why you’re so insecure about the detail. He loves them.
For a quick kiss he’s on his feet hovering over you. “it’s okay, I like my gifts wrapped in bows.” He smirks and the comment has you calling out his name in shock. peck. He’s back on his knees staring at your core. The bow is a detail he’ll miss but he’d gotta take them off. Fuck is all he can think when your cunt is right in front of him, wet. Is this where he’s meant to die, right in your cunt from suffocation cause he won’t be able to detach himself from you.
Your legs are planted on his shoulder, your ass just at the edge of the bed. When he first swipes his tongue through your folds, it takes you by surprise. Gosh you missed him being right there.
“fuck” you whimper the sound not being able to be masked. Your slick, probably mixed with his saliva, drips down your cunt, down his chin. His nose is so deep in it that some of your juices run up his nose. Is this how fucking cocaine sniffers feel?  He can’t wait till his cock is buried snuggly it. He sniffs in, on purpose this time, takin git once more. You grind on his face making him suck harder at your clit. You’re getting dizzy and gripping hard at the sheets. His nails dig into your thighs harshly, the pain causing pleasure.
Everything is so intense you can’t tell apart your orgasm. Fuck you can’t be coming this fast from just his tongue. Shit. “Jungkook. Don’t stop” You whine the intense feeling approaching quick, your walls tightening and fluttering around his tongue. Jungkook’s so carried away he only realizes you’re coming when your legs are shaking. He drinks everything that leaves and it’s only when you’re pulling his head back from overstimulation that he realizes he should take a breath. He’s starved can you blame him?
“you’re so gorgeous baby.” he says peppering kisses on your thighs. “Wanna do that again for me.” He’d absolutely would eat you out for a second time in a row. And you’d love that but you just want to feel him.
You’re moving up the bed and he’s hovering over you kissing your jaw. Your palms meet his ass in a teasing smack.
“Missed this ass.” You smile under him. jungkook just chuckles. you want to add on but his finger stuffing your tight cunt has you silent, gasping for air.
Jungkook smiles down at your pleasure strained face. “mm? not so talkative now?”
He thinks he’s got you. Then you slide down your hand down his abs, he knows where your hand travels and though it’ll destroy his ego, he lets you do it. “so big” you bite your bottom lip as you start stroking him, using your own juices as lubricate. He’s walls are falling. Your hand wrapped around him, has him burying his moans in the croak of your neck.
It’s a competition huh? he loves those second and fucking your cunt first.
You’re stroking him in his pants and he’s pumping his fingers in your cunt. He’s kissing you to hide his moans. It’s a fucking competition and he’s losing. He can’t lose. His hand leaves your cunt to grab at your wrist. You stop. He pulls you away from him. if you went on any longer, he’d be done for and the night wouldn’t end the way he wants. He hasn’t been touched in a year, unless it’s talking about those times you sexted, but it doesn’t count. It feels different when it’s your hands.
“why’d you do that?” you whine.
“If you did that you wouldn’t have gotten the orgasms I have left for you.” You don’t respond. you won’t argue, you do want them.
His fingers are back to pumping and even sooner than before your climax approaches. He wishes he could count just how much you flutter around his finger but he’s too busy looking at your face, pleasure written all over it. and its pride that fills him, knowing he’s the one giving it to you.
Jungkook moves away and you watch how he licks his fingers clean. The way he smiles at you after, is disgustingly hot.
“Take off your pants.” You tell him.
“You take off your shirt.” He reciprocates, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing anything.
Jungkook is spoiled by the sight before him, your chest sprawled out for him to taste. So, he leans down and wraps his tongue around a nipple. His hand lost at the other side. You love all the foreplay, really, but you want him. you’ve been thinking about it for forever.
“Jungkook.” You call. He hums saying you have his attention. “I want you.”
There’s nothing more he wants.
“Want you too baby.” He says grabbing his cock and aligning it with your entrance. Then he remembers.
“fuck” he whispers. You sit up and wander what has him holding back.
“what?”
“I don’t have a condom.” He knows he doesn’t have one, it’d be weird, it’s not like he was coming on this trip expecting to fuck you.
“Why?” he stares at you confused.
“I didn’t expect fucking to be on the itinerary.”
Oh yeah, you laugh at himself.
“Do you?”
“Nope. Why would I have them.” He just shrugs his shoulders.
He’s gonna lose it. “Are you on the pill?” it’s his only option.
That’s when you shake your head. “Got off when we broke up.”
Okay so what is he gonna do, his cock hard and your cunt right in front of him.
“Jungkook come on you can pull out.” You whine pulling him forward.
She shakes his head. “god no. I almost lost my mind from your hand. It’d lose it in your pussy.” You smile, you shouldn’t be laughing cause you won’t be able to fuck. But you just can’t help but smile at the fact that he almost lost himself just from your hand. You’ve got no clue on what to do. You really need to fuck him.
“Wait--” he looks at you. “This is a lover’s cabin.” You say but he waits for you to elaborate and make sense.
“wouldn’t they have condoms in the cupboard or something.” He didn’t think of that.
So, as you stand you walk over to the cupboard roughly open it almost tipping it over. “Bingo!” you celebrate pulling out a long string of condoms. Your saving grace.
You carefully pull out one and toss it to jungkook.
“Relax aren’t they the one’s you usually use,” you say when you see the look on his face. They do look like they’ve just been purchased and placed. He’s so thankful right now. He leans against the head board and you watch how he gracefully he strokes himself and slips it on, your mouth drools but you’re too needy. You’ll do that another day.
“Come ride cow girl.” He welcomes you when he’s all done. You stretch your legs over him, centering yourself. His hands are quick to spread across your ass, landing a light tap.
He helps you centre himself at your entrance. His brows scrunch together when he feels your tight warmth slide down him. he definitely isn’t going to last long, maybe he’ll hold on till you come but after that is not promised.
His hand loosely holds at your throat, just enough to tilt it back slightly and leave wet kisses and marks everywhere on your skin.
You sliding up and down him feels great but he couldn’t help himself but move his fingers to touch your clit. In pure pleasure you’re wrapping your arms around him and kissing him. you love this position, how he nudges at your back, how intimate it feels, the way you’re so close after being so far away. The cold is barely in mind. Jungkook can’t express how much he’s missed you.
You love it.
But what you love more is how he pulls at your hair, just softly. “Love fucking my cock huh?” he asks but you’re unable to answer his hips jutting up into you with great speed. Jungkook could get carried away with the way your boob bounce but he chooses to say focus. “You like that huh?” he smirks but your eyes are closed, the pleasure of his intense strokes taking you out.
“Yeah, love fucking you kook.” You whimper out.
He’s thrusting harder and you’re moaning louder. “you look so pretty taking me baby. Wanna fuck you forever.”
You wish you.
Your body melts into his as you’re coming again, jungkook fucking into you for his own high which follows after yours. When he catches his breath, he’s laying you down and beside you just after throwing the filled condom.
“I’m gonna get the bath started.” He says planting a quick kiss on your shoulder.
You’re too drained to stand so when he’s back to come get you you’re dozing off. “come on baby I’ve got to get you cleaned up.”
You groan. “Then after a I can make you cocoa.”
“I’m so tired kook.” You whine.
“I knowww.” he coos. Next thing you know he’s lifting you, bridal style. “it’s okay I’ve got you.”
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“Hmm. Don’t move.” Jungkook whines when you threaten to stand and start your day. You two have already slept in because of your late-night endeavours.
“I have to kook. We have so much for our day.”
“Ugh! Fine. But first give me your hand.” He demands the action has you confused but you give it to him. when he has it, he’s giving you a billion kisses. “I love you.” He doesn’t think it’s too soon cause—well he doesn’t know it just felt right to say.
“I love you too now let me go.” He makes sure not to unhand you until you say it more ‘meaningfully’ according to him.
---
You and jungkook decided to retry ice skating (you were hell bent on not going skiing.)
As you’re skating jungkook slides to the half wall, after telling you he has to take a call. You shoo him away after telling you’ll be fine alone (for the meantime).
“Any news?” jungkook was nervous when he got the call from Namjoon. This is a very important call from him, it determines what the hell he’s gonna choose. Quit or get transferred.
“Yeah. it’s been approved.” Jungkook is still for a moment.
“Seriously?” it almost feels like a dream.
“Yeah, had to do a lot of convincing but they agreed.” He’s so grateful for Namjoon. He’s gonna miss him. Jungkook looks over to you, gliding not great but better, and you’re smiling this time. So, he’s happy. You’re happy.
“Thank you, man,”
Namjoon smiles, he knows how much this means. “No problem.” The call cuts.
This just seals a lot “kook look out.” He pockets his phone and as he’s turning to you, you slam into him. You haven’t gotten to the knowing how to stop just yet. Maybe next time.
“You okay, baby.” He says holding onto you by your waist
You let out a dramatic breath that has him smiling. “Yeah, but I’m getting kinda tired.” You say out of breath and letting your weight fall into his arms.
“I’m getting hungry too.” You’ve spent a good amount of time ice skating so you decide to leave it for next time.
--
“what’s the plan for tonight.” He asks as you eat.
“Hmm. For the first time I don’t know.” You both laugh. “We could go out for dinner—ohhh the hot tub--.” You forgot about it cause none of you ever wanted to use it, honestly you didn’t even expect the place to have a hot tub.
“I like the sound of that.”
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The steam of the hot tub hovers lazily on the surface of the water. The steam curls around jungkook as his gaze locks on you. Body dry cause you haven’t gotten in yet. You walk onto the deck, the dim but still bright enough lights radiant off your skin, as though the sun has come to pay him a visit at night.
His breath is caught.
The bikini hugs you in all the ways that made his thoughts falter, the curves of your body illuminated by the soft glow of the light. He swallows hard, his mouth dry despite being surround by water. You make him weak, so much that he looks only at you, even though your attention is else were. You try to find a place to hook your towels.
And then you turn around to smile at him in victory of finding a place to hang them. He nods acknowledging but no paying attention.
He leans back slightly, the water lapping at his shoulders as his eyes roam you, mesmerized. There’s some thing unworldly about you, something he can’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the way you looked, that made him trip for you. It was the way you carried yourself, the way your body swayed as you moved closer to him.
His arms immediately reach out to envelope you. “Enjoying the view?” you tease, your voice relaxing into the tub and his warmth.
The chuckle he releases is low, “you know I am.”
Your giggle like a melody. You wrap your arms around him and he loses his stability for a second before regaining it. “careful.” He murmurs to you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I might drown.”
“I wouldn’t want that.” you peck his lips.
You relax for a while just taking in the night and each other presence.
Jungkook has been meaning to ask, the question eating at his mind.  “Do you want to go back to Korea with me?” it sounds like a dumb question, you came together so you will be leaving together.
But the double meaning lies within and he’s desperate to know your answer.
“What are you saying?” you coo at him. “Aren’t we already going back together.” You’re talking about the tangible stuff, the tickets, the plane, the flying, even the landing and going home. But he doesn’t mean that.
After pecking your shoulder water sticking to his lips, he explains. “I don’t mean physically.”
You stare down at him eyes softening. “kook” you realize the seriousness of his question. And for a second jungkook senses scepticism. So, he panics.
“If it’s bout my job, I’m working on it.” His voice is quick.
That was a fear of yours, even more that he wouldn’t want to move. Jungkook has thought about it, the move was a rush decision he never spoke to anyone about it to ask their opinion or whatever. And honestly the move didn’t bring him much joy, besides the opportunity to adventure Jeju. But apart from that he was away from his family, his friends and you. Everything that made his life.
“Seriously?” you say more shocked than anything else.
“Yeah, Namjoon called me. My transfer got approved.”
 You gasp the water swashing from your movement. “don’t lie to me”
He laughs. “I’m not.”
“I thought you said getting it approved is hard.” You’re finding this so hard to believe.
“It is, I guess I got lucky.”
You squeal moving in to hug him.
“When did you start all this.” It’s along process so he had to start early.
“Honestly before we broke up. I wanted to surprise you if it got approved. But then-” you shush him from going on further.
“So, what would have you done if it didn’t get approved.” Your tone drops.
Jungkook sighs looking around in thought. “would’ve fucking quit.” it’s funny how easy the idea is for him, former him would have struggled with the question. “I’m tired of being so far from you.”
“Same.” He places a longer and soft kiss on your lips.
“So, you wanna go back with me?” His voice is playful, as he looks up at you through wet lashes.
“Mhm.” You smile, leaning slightly closer to him, your fingertips tracing lazy circles on his shoulder. “I wanna go everywhere with you.”
The words hang in the air for a moment, warm and intimate, as his lips lifts into a small, boyish grin. “We can arrange that.”
Jungkook doesn’t mind being patched to your side like a little purse dog. In fact, the way he leans into you now, his hand slipping around your waist as if it were second nature, says he’d prefer it. His thumb grazes your hip absentmindedly, a small gesture that feels both possessive and endearing.
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“I’m gonna miss it.” you say leaning into Jungkook's shoulder with a pout. You wait patiently for your flight. “Feels like we just started the trip.”
Jungkook reaches over to cup your hand in his. He then interlocks your fingers and brings it to his lips; the action causes you to smile softly. He really likes to do that. It’d never been a trait of his before, so you’re intrigued, to why he does it all of a sudden. “We can come back one day. together.”
“Yeah together.” You reassure. You like this. Like having him with you.
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[3 months later]
“Jimin if you’re gonna wear that to my fucking wedding you’re not coming.” You announce to a jimin too focused on the light blue suit he’s in. in the mirror you can spot his cheeky grin. He’s not gonna wear a freaking light blue suit, it’s not on the colour scheme, plus he doesn’t like how it makes him look.
He turns to look at jungkook who’s standing on his own pedestal looking into the mirror. Touching and teasing at the suit. “Jungkook you’re not gonna let her do that right?.” Jungkook just shrugs his shoulders at jimin. He’s not pleased with the answer. He knew the dude was down bad, but not this down bad. “Bro!”
“she’s the boss.” Jungkook raises his hands in surrender and you smirk in your seat.
“Come on man
standup.” he fists at Jungkook who just laughs. As Jimin is stepping out to get out of the suit (he stayed so long in it you thought he might actually want to wear it.) and get changed, you swat him with a magazine and he’s quick to running out not wanting you to land another hit.
Now alone in the dressing room you walk up to jungkook. You lean your chin on his shoulder, your hands finding there way to his chest. He welcomes them with his own. “You look so handsome.” Your voices hums sweetly by his ear. Jungkook lifts up both of your hands to place soft and warm kisses on them. The action has you blushing red. The ring on your finger and indication of why he liked to do it before. Plus, now, he just enjoys it., it makes you blush and he likes that.
“Mhm.” He hums against your wrists. “You like it?”
“I love it.” You take a hundredth glance at a preview of what he might wear at your wedding. If he chooses it’s what he wants. You love the cut on him. the colour complimenting his skin, and the style shows off his physique, not too much, but not too little. But all the buttons on the vest and shirt are gonna give you some trouble undoing.
Jungkook stares at you completely enamoured at the way you’re looking at it. You should be looking at him like that. “I think you might love the suit more than me.” He turns abruptly causing you to fall into his chest. He catches and keeps you stable with his firm hand on your lower back.
You place one hand on his chest and the other around his neck, bringing you much closer. “I might just.” Your lips could meet easily with how close you are. But you don’t move them and jungkook pouts at how you deny him the opportunity.
“I’m gonna take it off, not gonna let you love it more.” He nudges his nose with yours.
“Take it off.”
“Jeon Yn! I forgot how freaky you are.” You roll your eyes at how he’s already given you his last name, you like the sound of it though. Reminds you of how real this is, you’re not dreaming.
Trying to tease him more you move by his ear to whisper, “Not here though.”
Jungkook is biting his lower lip. “We should hurry then.” he moves to kiss your shoulder, your off-the-shoulder top giving him leeway to kiss your skin directly. He peppers more kisses from your shoulder to your neck before  you get carried away you’re prompting for him to turn around. He does, though reluctantly.
You giggle.
“Do you like it though?” your voice turns serious, as much as you like it and how you just want to see him in it the whole day. If he likes it matters.
“Yeah, it makes me look so
husband.” He smiles boyishly as he winks at you in the mirror.
“Oh-gosh.” You push yourself away from him to get back to your seat. You’re not gonna be here all day.
He turns to face you. Still standing on the pedestal. “When do I get to see you in your dress” His teeth play with his lip ring as he asks curiously. The thought of you in the gown exciting him.
“When I walk down the aisle.” You stare blankly, no room for discussion. And he doesn’t, you’ve been quite stern about him not seeing you in any bridal wear until the wedding. Which he doesn’t mind, he can wait.
“Make sure it’s a ball gown so that I can slip under and hide.” He gestures his hands to elaborate what he means.
You shake your head. It’s not your style, maybe when you were a child, but you’ve grown. “I’m not wearing a ball gown.”
Ditching the jacket, he places it next to you and stands closing your legs between his. He lowers himself so your nose is touching his. His arms trap you between him and the couch. You didn’t think he was not gonna get that kiss right? He kisses you softly, then again. Then a little harder the third time, this one lasting seconds longer. You hold on his waist for stability. He kisses you once more just for the sake.
“I’m very sure you’ll look divine in whatever you pick, baby.”
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A/N: so that's that. I hope I've fixed your broken heart from I-redo. there are scenes that i couldn't fit in. Yes of course there are other activities they did, but if i wrote it all it would be boring and too long and would probably be pushed to next month. i wish i could've written more fluff but idk.
i will allow for story drabble request if you guys want that.
but yeah thanks, for reading, liking and commenting. much love. wishing you a happy new year.
story idea copyright of keen-li, 30.12.24
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glow-in-the-dark-death · 11 months ago
Text
A Week (He Will Take You)
~
Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
~
Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
~
Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
~
Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
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forzalando · 1 year ago
Text
Orange Theory
Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)
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summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!
You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.
Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.
“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.
“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”
“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.
“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”
You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.
“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”
“I just came to give you this.”
Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.
“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.
“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”
“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”
“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.
“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.
Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.
“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.
“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.
Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.
He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”
You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.
“He peels your oranges for you?”
You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”
“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”
“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”
Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.
“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”
“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”
As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.
“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.
As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”
“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”
“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”
“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”
A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.
“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”
“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”
“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”
You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”
Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”
“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.
“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”
“What else?”
“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”
Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.
“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.
“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.
“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”
Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”
“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”
“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”
“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”
Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.
Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.
Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.
You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.
When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.
You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.
But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.
They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.
You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.
“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”
The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.
“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”
“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”
“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”
“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.
“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”
You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.
“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cƓur.”
“Would you kiss me?”
“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”
This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.
“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”
“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.
“Ah, dĂ©solĂ©, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.
You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.
He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.
He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.
His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.
You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.
After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.
Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
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marvelwitchergilmore · 5 months ago
Text
Nobody Important
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 
Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.
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When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 
Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed
like the rest of them. 
Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 
“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”
Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more
energetic than he was. 
“Who are you?”
“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”
“That depends. Who are you?”
“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”
Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 
However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”
You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”
“Okay, fine. What are you?”
You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”
“Alright, listen bub-”
“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”
Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”
Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 
“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”
After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 
“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”
He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 
Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 
But he still had questions. 
Unanswered questions. 
Like who the hell were you? 
A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 
In the kitchens. 
The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 
Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 
And somehow
It was relaxing to him. 
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 
“Err, no. I was just-”
“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”
“I don’t really drink..tea.” 
Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 
You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 
“Here, try this.”
“Oh, I, uh-”
“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 
And he did. 
“Is this where you work?”
You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 
“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”
You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”
“Am I disturbing you?”
“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”
Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”
You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”
Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 
“Hey, what’s in this tea?”
“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”
Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 
“Hey, what did you put in this?”
Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 
Logan, for the first time
ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 
Then he jerked up. 
With a grunt, he looked around him. 
He was in his room. 
The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 
Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 
The Professor’s office. 
Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 
“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”
“What the hell happened?” 
“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”
Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 
“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”
Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 
“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”
Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”
Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”
“Are you always this blunt?”
You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”
“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”
“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”
Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”
“She started it!”
You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”
With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 
“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”
“Have to admit, though. I did help.”
Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 
Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 
Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 
But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 
Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 
It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.
Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 
“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 
“Are you going to drug me again?”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”
“Really, like what?”
Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”
“They actually sell this stuff?”
You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”
Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 
Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”
Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 
“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”
“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”
You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”
“Will you?”
“Will I do what?”
“Go to bed, too?”
You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”
“What are you even doing?”
“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”
Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 
“Okay, fine.”
And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that
he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 
The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 
Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 
You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 
He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 
More so, when he saw your shoulder. 
From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 
Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 
“New recipe?”
You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”
“Better luck next time.”
And then you both just
talked. 
You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 
“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”
You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 
“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”
It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.
“Oh, that. No, that
that’s nothing important.”
Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 
Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 
Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 
The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 
And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 
“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”
Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 
Fast asleep. 
He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just
memorise you. 
Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and
hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 
Hell, even he needed sleep. 
But you were just constantly forever going. 
Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 
You were fast asleep. 
Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 
Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 
You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 
Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 
He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 
A heavy blanket. 
He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 
Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 
He turned around but you were still. 
Then you whimpered again. 
“No,” you whispered. 
Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 
He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 
Except you reached out for his hand. 
Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 
But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 
You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 
Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 
A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 
Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 
“Please
please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 
“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”
Your head shifted. You were searching. 
“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”
“L
Logan?” 
The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.
He was shocked. Maybe

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just
follow my voice.”
The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 
And glowed. 
They were still your eyes just
brighter. 
“Logan?!”
He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 
“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”
The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 
Then everything stopped. 
Everything went silent. 
Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 
Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 
You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 
“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”
He took you by your shoulders then your face. 
“It’s Logan.”
You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 
“Logan,” you breathed. 
“Yeah
”
Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 
“What happened?”
“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”
You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 
Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 
“What happened?”
You shook your head. “Nothing-”
“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”
You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 
Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 
“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”
“So what happened?”
“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”
“And that’s what the nightmares
”
You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost
”
You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 
Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”
You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 
“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”
Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 
“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up
their Superhuman had found me.”
“Was he the one that-”
You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just
blew up.”
“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”
You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that
they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”
The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 
“I just can’t.”
Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 
“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”
“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”
You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 
“Don’t let them win.”
You nodded, your head still in his hands. 
“Logan? Will you
Can you stay?”
It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 
“You don’t-”
“I can stay.”
You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 
Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 
“Logan?”
“Yeah?”
You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 
“Thank you for staying.”
It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 
Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”
You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 
As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 
The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 
Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 
From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 
And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 
Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 
Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 
And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 
Because Logan already knew. 
And so did you. 
And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 
2K notes · View notes
ahundredtimesover · 8 months ago
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I Want You to Stay (13) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; arts, business/property devt, and book publishing talk that’s probably inaccurate; mentions of injury, trauma; family drama; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; they're still idiots;  explicit sexual content (making out, oral (m & f receiving), body praise, mutual masturbation, protected sex)  (18+)
Chapter Word count: 29k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
PlaylistÂ đŸŽ¶: on the way home
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A/N: It's here! This is a long one so I hope you enjoy and savour it all. We're close to the end! So thank you so much for all the support and love for this story đŸ€­đŸ€­
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  đŸ„°
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You take up Yoongi’s offer of a listening ear on Saturday, the day after your last day at the company. You spent last night wallowing in sadness over not being able to see Jungkook during your farewell dinner and in regret for not telling him what you wanted to say - that you were thankful, that you wished the Arts Center would be everything he imagined it would be, and that hopefully, you’ll see him again. 
Maybe if he showed up, you would’ve said more - that you’re terrified of everything he makes you feel, that you’re too burdened by your past, and that you want him even if you don’t know if you’re ready to be with him.
You spent much of today convincing yourself that it was better that you didn’t see him, even if you kept imagining his shy smile and the feel of his lips against yours, and then you got frustrated all over again. 
With all that’s going on in your head, you figured that spending dinner on your own today would make you feel more sorry for yourself, so you’re currently seated in front of Yoongi with your wonton soup barely touched while he’s just slurped the remaining noodles of his. 
“Your soup’s getting cold,” he nudges your foot as you mindlessly gaze at your bowl. “It’s not gonna eat itself.”
“Apparently, I don’t eat much when I’m sad,” you sigh, turning to him. 
“Well, that sucks. It’s really good soup,” he hums. 
Yoongi looks at you patiently just as he has for the past half hour. You told him you wanted to eat out, and he agreed immediately, even offering to drive you home after. But you haven’t said much since you arrived at the restaurant and he hasn’t forced you to say anything either.
“I’m sorry for not being a fun dinner partner tonight,” you say. 
“It’s okay. When I told you the other week to call me if you wanted to talk, I didn’t expect you to actually talk,” he chuckles. “I know sometimes you just need someone to be with. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. Like I said, it’s complicated,” you reply. “I can't even figure myself out.”
“It’s only complicated if you make it,” he counters. “Human beings are complex, yes. But feelings of desire aren’t. They’re quite straightforward. You want something and that should tell you everything. It’s pride and fear that complicate things. If you set those aside, then you’ll be able to figure out what you really feel.”
“What if they contradict each other?”
“The push and pull isn’t always equal though. One overpowers the other in some way. So you’re either more happy about leaving or more sad about it. And then ask yourself why.”
“I’m sad about leaving Jungkook,” you admit. “I don’t regret my decision but it doesn’t make me happy right now.”
“And why doesn’t it make you happy?”
“Because it hurt him. And then it hurt me.”
“Why did it hurt the both of you?”
“I don’t know about him,” you pout.
“Then what about you? Why did it hurt you?”
“Because he kept his distance - he replaced me, shut me out. And then he didn’t show up to my farewell dinner.”
“So what’s painful about that?” Yoongi pushes, wanting to help you make sense of things.
“Because I want him close to me,” you say quietly, letting the words sink in. You’ve always known this, but saying it to someone else somehow makes it feel more real this time. “I want him
 with me.”
“Told you it was simple,” Yoongi shrugs.
“But it isn’t,” you argue.
Yoongi is a straightforward man, and you suppose the only way for him to understand is for you to tell him the truth, so that’s what you do. 
You tell him about your ties to the Jeon family, why you stayed in the company for as long as you did, all the attempts at leaving, and the plan of doing so after the Arts Center opening. You share about your life in the process - your childhood of staying at the library and your coping mechanisms, your life in Busan, going back to Daegu then leaving for Seoul, working to repay a debt, and then losing yourself because of it. You talk about the closeness you developed with Jungkook, all the times that he was there for you, the kiss and the aftermath, why you pushed him away and why you also feel bad about how he reacted. You say a bit about the things that scare you - getting hurt being one of them - and why staying for Jungkook would be difficult, and why leaving him would be the same. 
Yoongi looks at you earnestly. He’s always known about you being guarded, keeping parts of yourself that you don’t really share with others. This is the farthest you’ve let him into your world, and he sees so much of Jungkook in you. There’s that fear of not being wanted but also of being wanted; you’re scared of not being enough to be loved but also of not loving the other person enough. You’re unable to express how you feel because you don’t know if the person will respond with the same vulnerability and honesty, and you don’t like baring yourself with no one there to tell you it’s alright.  
All of it feels like how his friend is. He’s seen it since the moment Jungkook stepped foot into the office a year ago; he’s seen it everytime Jungkook disengages from you or gets mad at you; he’s seen it even when you’ve started to become comfortable with each other, and Yoongi has seen it these past weeks of Jungkook dealing with your departure, especially recently. 
“So after all that, you mean to tell me that you didn’t actually tell him how you feel?” Yoongi points out. “That he just overheard you say that you like him but you didn’t actually tell him? Not your feelings nor your fears, not your contradicting emotions, nor the fact that you want to be with him? Because I’m hearing you, ___. And all I hear is that you’ve found someone you’re willing to give your heart to but you’re too afraid to do anything about it. Even after he’s told you how he feels, because you don’t think that he would be open and honest enough to you to mean them.”
You let out a breath and pout, Yoongi’s words making it seem simpler than it actually is. In hindsight, maybe it is, because after everything that you shared, the first thing he points out is how, despite the obvious reciprocated feelings, you’re the one who’s afraid to give in.
“You talked about how Jungkook made you feel braver during the times you were scared and alone and hurt,” Yoongi says, seething at your experiences that made you look towards Jungkook for strength. “Why can’t you be brave enough for him? I mean, I get it that you want to leave the company, no one questions why you would. He did but he’s accepted it because he understands, but why do you have to let him go? Is it just because of the ties to his family? Or is it because you’re afraid of what he feels for you that isn’t tied to you being his assistant?”
His last question causes your face to fall, and Yoongi knows he’s hit a nerve.
“You’ve been living your life trying to prove that you’re more than your past, that you’re capable and that you deserve all that you have now,” he adds. “This job was your life. You told me before that you don’t know if you’d like yourself outside of it, and maybe you’re thinking that Jungkook wouldn’t, either.”
“I
 don’t think I’m that great, Yoongi,” you confess. “I mean, just think about what the guys I dated said about me.”
“Those don’t count because they’re absolute jerks.”
“Even then, I
 I’m terrible at a lot of things. I pull away, I get scared, I
 I don’t know how to be someone’s anything. I don’t know if I want to be. I don’t know if I can, or what that even means,” you stammer. “For a second there, I let my guard down for Jungkook and—”
“He did the same and that terrifies you,” Yoongi finishes. “Being wanted back terrifies you. It’s why you feel confused and conflicted, ___. You have the chance to have something you’ve been yearning for and—”
“I’m scared I’d lose it,” you interject. “And I won’t if I don’t have it. I’m scared of heartbreak, Yoongi. I gave in when it came to Jungkook but I saw the possibilities with him and heartbreak was one of them. This is why I don’t give in to anything. I mean, it’s why I didn’t give in to you. I
 I was scared we’d hurt each other and that I’d lose you and
 I’m sorry I’m bringing this up now.”
“It’s good that you are,” he assures you. “Because do you see the difference? You didn’t give in to me but you did to him. You never know if the person is worth the pain until it’s there but you at least know that he’s worth a try. I wasn’t, and I don’t take offense, but that’s the point. He’s the guy you try for, ___. He’s the one you climb out your walls for. So don’t cower inside. Be brave for him this time.”
It’s a while before you’re able to say anything. The background chatter in the noodle house fades away in your mind as you take in Yoongi’s words. And he’s not wrong. 
You never told Jungkook what you felt; you didn’t know how to. You kissed him to express that, but you pushed him away just as quickly, but you never got to say anything else, especially after. And now you’re left to wonder - what was the fear really about? And what was the need to let go of him because of it?
You’re scared of a lot of things; you’re scared of every single thing you want to have. You learned some time ago that Jungkook was the same, but you think that you’re probably more terrified than he is. 
You’re a walking contradiction, too - you want to cut ties with him because it reminds you of a past you don’t want to be defined by, but in doing so, you’re cutting yourself off as what you started as - his assistant, and you’re scared to be anything else but that. You were good at it - you were competent, capable; you managed his life and the team well. But being with him means you have to be someone else for him - his partner, his companion, his lover, and you don’t know how to be those things for him. You don’t know if you’d like yourself, and so you don’t know if he’d like you if you tried. And that scares you.
But like Yoongi said, you thought Jungkook was at least worth it; you wouldn’t have kissed him if you didn’t, even if you thought it was a moment of weakness. You just have to follow through with that belief this time, and be brave enough to not just want him because you do; you have to be brave enough to let him want you back. You have to be brave enough to believe that he’ll stay. 
“How
 how do I do that? How do you become brave for someone?” You finally ask. 
Yoongi relaxes in his seat, his eyes the most comforting they’ve ever been. 
“You just tell them how you feel,” he says. “You face it head on because you know that there’s something more important than a possible heartbreak, and that’s losing on the possibility of happiness with them.”
You let out a breath. You know Yoongi’s right. You’d said that you want to know how it’s like to be truly happy with Jungkook, and it’s this paralyzing fear and stubbornness that’s keeping you from finding out. But you suppose that when you’ve gotten used to keeping a lot of things in, just telling someone how you feel isn’t that easy.
“It’s hard for you, I know,” he continues, reading your mind. “But how would you learn what your heart is capable of if you don’t follow it?”
“Then you’ll just risk it getting broken,” you argue.
“You do,” he hums. “Hearts break. But it’s not the only thing they do.”
The words are simple, just as the thought is. You almost feel embarrassed that Yoongi has to remind you of these things, about the inevitability of pain and loss and how it should be worth it in the end. But the fear comes from somewhere, from a heart that’s close to your own that shattered so many times, you wondered at one point if it was still capable of loving. 
“I told you that I never met my dad, right?” You share, willing to bare a bit more of yourself to him. “He left before I was born because he wasn’t ready. But mom
 Mom loved him deeply. I found a photo of them under her pillow one time and I asked her about it, and she had me lay my head on her lap while she told me about him. I was around 6 years old and probably didn’t understand much but I felt her tears drop on my cheek, and then everyday for weeks, I’d hear her cry, all alone in her room. And somehow, she just cried harder every time I hugged her.”
You remember those days. You learned what it felt like to have your heart broken at that age, and it was because of seeing your mom try to smile through glassy eyes; it was hearing her tell you that she loved you, even if the other half of you was the reason why she was hurting in the first place.
“Eventually a man came along and he made her laugh until he stopped,” you continue. “Until all he could do was hurt her. And that
 that felt worse. She’d just learned to share herself again but then he just broke her. And I
 I felt that, too. I felt it every time she hugged me, kissed me, covered my ears to drown out his yelling
 I felt it every time I had my head on her lap so I wouldn’t see her break down.”
Your eyes wander into the streets outside, recalling those difficult years when your mother protected you, even as she was in pain herself.
“They say that a parent feels the pain their child is feeling,” you say. “I guess it’s true for children, too. I felt her pain, I felt her heart break. Her heart was my heart. And I guess ever since then I’ve just been scared for it to happen to me, knowing how much it hurts. It took years before she could recover. That was hard, too.”
“How long did it take her to give Min-woo a chance?”
“Years,” you shake your head. “She was so cautious. But he stuck around, and she realized he was worth it all. And she gained two other daughters who adore her in the process.”
“Her heart was your heart,” Yoongi repeats your words. “And all she did was love. That means your heart is capable of just as much. It’s just as strong, too.”
You’ve never thought about it that way. You've always believed that the one thing you took from your mother was her grace. Perhaps if you tried, you’d learn that you took her strength, too. Maybe her unyielding ability to care. Perhaps it’s her faith in what she was capable of no matter how broken she may be. 
“I
 I needed this,” you tell Yoongi, your eyes misty at his words. “It’s been hard understanding myself lately. And you, you just know me. You know what to say all the time.”
“It’s because I risked something, too, when I told you how I felt about you all those years ago,” he replies, the reminder of his unrequited feelings no longer awkward for either of you. “And at the end of it, I learned how I could care for you, and that I could care for you much better as a friend.”
“And well, you’ve been an amazing one to me, especially this past year.”
“Good, so for my sake, especially since you and Jungkook give me so much headache,” Yoongi laughs, “remember everything I said, okay? Your heart is capable of so much. So please give it a try and follow it. I doubt it will be broken this time around.”
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You spend the entirety of Sunday at home, cleaning up the place and tending to your growing collection of plants. It was a cool enough day for you to walk up the neighborhood to buy some things from the store, and as Yoongi’s words from the night before ring in your head, you find yourself hurting more at the absence of Jungkook in your life. 
There’s a new recipe for fried rice that you saw online, and he was your first thought because you think he’d like it. You read an article about Lee Jaemin in the morning where she mentioned the Arts Center, and you wanted to share it with him and gush over her words. His favorite Japanese chef has opened a new restaurant in Insadong and you wonder if he’s already tried it. The playground at the park is closed because they’re doing repairs after you told the council about how rusted the swings have become at Jungkook’s suggestion. 
They’re little things, really, and you realize even more just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him, and how much of himself he’s shared as well. Whatever lines that were drawn up due to your respective positions were crossed long ago, even before that kiss. It started when you both started to care for each other, and when you both started to wish for the other’s happiness and healing. On your end, you’d hoped you’d be a part of that and that he’d be a part of yours. You don’t think that has changed though.
There are still many things you want to share with him, you realize again, especially on that Monday afternoon when you find yourself at Rkive Publishing for your contract signing that has you looking at Namjoon in question. 
“Are
 are you sure?“ you ask him, as you read through the document. 
He’d sent a version of this for your review a few days ago and you’d given your verbal confirmation. You expected to come today to just sign the contract, but he asked you to review it again since he made a few changes. The salary is one of them. 
“Are you asking me if I’m sure of offering you a higher compensation package?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. 
“Y-yes?” You say. “I mean, not that I don’t prefer it but
 why?” 
You knew that working for a smaller organization, and for a publishing company at that, despite having a higher position and more responsibilities meant that your pay wouldn’t be significantly different from what you were getting at the Jeon Corporation. You’d accepted that, and it was something you’d talked about with Namjoon. But still, this little bit of increase is something you hadn’t expected.
“We’ll, let’s just say that we’ve had many applicants in the past who oversold themselves. You did the opposite,” he responds. “You impressed me and the panel enough with your resume and interview and we thought you were a good fit but that recommendation letter from your company’s President showed us just how qualified you were, and that there’s so much potential there. I was also able to speak with your most recent boss.”
“VP Jeon?”
“Yes, I was on a call with him last Friday. He elaborated on the strengths you’d mentioned and that Mr. Jung had noted,” Namjoon responds. “They’re top executives of a well-known company who have worked closely with you, who saw your growth, and can attest to your potential. Given all those qualities, we thought it was just fair that we increase your compensation. We’ve learned it’s important to trust and be committed to our staff, and this is how we show that.”
“This
 this is deeply appreciated,” you manage to say, not realizing just how valuable the references were. You check to see that your responsibilities didn’t change much, so you know that this is really them, believing in your worth.
“We’re looking to expand in the next few years and are working towards establishing our position in the industry,” he adds. “We don’t just need competent individuals - we need leaders, we need people of good character who can embody all the things that we stand for. We’re trying to build something here and someone like you would be a wonderful asset. You can help us grow, ___. And I, well,” he continues, shyly smiling. “I just really wanted to make sure that we got a good start. Your role is critical. It’s also one of the toughest ones out there and I wanna show you that we want you here. I mean, I was sure a lot of companies were trying to get you and we’d have to compete for you.”
“I was already convinced early on, Namjoon,” you assure him. “To be honest, meeting you at the bookstore that day felt like some sign from the universe that it was time for me to carve my own path. I guess I didn’t just need a new environment, I needed a blank slate, too, where I could start over and feel like I was really doing this for myself, that I wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone else, not even to me.”
“Glad I took a chance on talking to you, then, even if I sort of freaked you out,” he chuckles. “I’m still sorry about that.”
“It was fine,” you laugh. “In hindsight, I’m also glad you did. I told you, it was a moment that stuck with me. It’s what pushed me to learn about what you’re all doing here, to learn about you. I
 I do well when I’m surrounded by good people, by those who believe in their work, and those who believe in others. I know it won’t be easy but I already know I’ll thrive here. So thank you for giving me this chance, too.”
You and Namjoon talk some more and then lock in a date for your first day. You agree to start in three weeks - that gives you enough time to properly rest and mentally prepare yourself for this new phase. You’ll still be in a fast-paced and high-stress environment, but you’ll control your time and directly manage a team. Everything’s going to be new, and you want to be ready when it all happens, which is also why you’ll be doing your onboarding a few days before. 
“I wanted to give this to you,” he says, handing you a book as he walks you out the door. “I always give one to new staff as a form of welcome because books are our heart and soul, you know?”
“This is lovely, Namjoon,” you smile at him. “This will definitely be my companion for the next few weeks.”
“Good. It’s always meaningful to have something tangible like this,” he smiles back. 
There’s warmth in the way he does it, as if every time he talks about books, it elicits special memories. You think being around someone like that will be good for you, as you try to hold onto good memories yourself despite the sadness you still feel.
“I hope you like it,” he says before bidding you goodbye. 
You walk through the neighborhood and picture yourself going through this route everyday. It’s definitely nothing like the busy streets that you’re used to. There are more trees and quaint cafes and boutique stores here, and even just this change is already making you feel lighter; you can imagine getting over your stress with surroundings like this. You suppose that’s how Namjoon remains as calm and hopeful as he is despite his responsibilities - there’s so much energy you get just being outdoors, and it’s something you decide you’ll do today. 
You have all the time in the world now, so you grab coffee then head to a park to enjoy the early summer cool air. 
The book that Namjoon gave you is a novel published five years ago about a woman who quit her job in search of herself. You don’t think it’s a coincidence, as in such a short time, you've come to know him as a thoughtful man who’s very assuring, and you suppose this is his way of telling you that everything will be okay as you take on this new journey alongside him. The bright color palette of the design seems to reflect the hopeful subject of the book, and right as you’re about to start reading, the sound of children laughing catches your attention.
There’s a playground nearby, and your mind immediately goes to Jungkook. There’s an image of him looking happy and safe in a place that made him feel those things that you keep in your heart. You don’t know how he looks like as a child but you can somehow imagine a little boy riding the swing and coming down the slide with the softest smile and thinking that he can do and be anything he wants, that he feels capable enough for it, and that he’s able to share that joy with whoever who’s with him.
You think about earlier when Namjoon was talking about your capabilities and how you were able to see yourself the way Jungkook and Hoseok see you as a professional. You think about how it felt being supported that way, how their trust and confidence in you made you trust and be confident in yourself, too. There’s this pride you feel at being able to make that much of an impression on your new boss early on and there’s no stress, there’s no pressure. 
Sure, you want to show that all those aren’t empty words, but there’s no urge to prove yourself that you earned your spot unlike how you’ve been these past nine years. There’s just this desire to live - work is a part of it but so is reading stories, meeting people and learning about them, walking through quiet streets and appreciating the sunlight peeking through the trees. There’s this yearning to experience the day and not just survive it. 
You look at the book in your hands and know that someday, you’ll be holding one that you had a hand in creating. And it would be something that you poured your heart and soul into, one that you experienced in its entirety, and it would make you so happy knowing that you could touch it, that you can hear it, that you can see the story come to life in your mind.
You trace your fingers down the front cover and realize that this beautiful thing is tangible. And then you realize another thing - happiness is tangible, too. You’d felt it, you’d heard it. You’d seen it smile at you. You’d felt its lips against yours, too, but then you pulled away and became too afraid to take it back. Happiness was so close - it breathed you in, it held you close; it wanted you, and you were too scared to let it stay.
You spent so many years chasing it. You’d found it in your friends and your new family, but there was always something more that you wanted, one that you couldn’t find. Until him. And you’re slowly learning just how painful it is to let it slip away.
Jungkook stays in your mind for the rest of the evening, and you find yourself wanting to share about your day. 
You want to tell him that you felt a little shy when Namjoon was praising you but that you felt proud of yourself. And that you wanted to thank him. 
You want to tell Jungkook that your new work environment is quite charming, that the surrounding areas are inspiring, and that you might just start spending time outdoors from now on. And that you wish you get to explore it with him. 
You want to tell him that you’re excited to start your new job and that you’ll maybe start reading books because you’ll have a hand in creating the finished products. And that you want to share that with him, maybe make him read it, too.
You want to tell him that you’re sorry. That you shouldn’t have doubted what he felt, that you should've stood by your feelings regardless and fought for them. You want to tell him that you don’t regret quitting, but that you regret losing him in the process. That no matter how hard you try, he’s still the one you look for, the one you want to talk about your day with, the one you want to share your dream and hopes to. 
Jungkook has made you feel free in a way that you hadn’t before - an irony, considering that working for his family made you feel constricted, burdened, stagnant. But there are so many possibilities with him, so many reasons - to smile, to be brave, to hope, to yearn for more, to believe that you deserve good things that you can touch. And you want to know what those are like; you don’t want to lose out on that chance and lose him completely. 
Perhaps all you had to do was free your heart so it could feel what it’s supposed to. Like what Yoongi said, maybe you just had to follow it to know what it could do. 
It’s why on Thursday of that week, you find yourself inside his office with an envelope in hand, as you hope that actually freeing your heart and following it isn’t too late. 
You were scheduled to come today so you could get your final pay and sign some documents with HR. You arrived mid-morning and got to those right away. It didn’t take long, which is why you were able to pass by Hoseok’s office to update him about your new job and thank him for the recommendation. You headed to the support team’s office after, and they were quick to make lunch plans with you. Jungkook’s at the Arts Center, they said, so they can take their break in half an hour, but they can’t be out long. There are lots of things they have to do with the opening happening on Friday of the next week.
Lucas told you that he’d found some of your supplies that you’d left and they’re in a drawer in his desk, and you told him that you could get them yourself. They were easy to find, and you took the time to leave little notes for him in between folders and files; you figured that finding them on days when he doesn’t expect them could give him encouragement somehow. 
Jungkook’s door was slightly opened, and you took the chance to enter and take in a piece of him. The last time you were here, it felt like there was so much you still couldn’t say, there were feelings you were too afraid to face and words you weren’t sure he wanted to hear. Being back here, you feel a lot braver, and you know it matters that now, you’re trying to be brave for him. 
You stand in front of his desk, almost cradling the letter you’d written last night. You’ve spent the past days outdoors, finding cafes and quaint spots in areas that you’ve never explored before. You’ve been reading the book, too, and the more time you spent by yourself - not being tired, not being stressed, not feeling lost or burdened - the more you realized just how much you’ve been missing and yearning for things. And that you deserved whatever it was you wanted, and that included Jungkook. 
The life you’d started to live without him convinced you that the intimacy and connection you’ve been desiring is something you can find with him. You want to know what that’s like; you want to know how happy you could be with him, and you’ll only know it if you express it to him this time. You owe it to him to do that; you’re scared that any more time apart will push both of you farther away, too far to pull the other back because the anchor wasn’t set securely in the first place. You don’t want him to be your what if; you don’t want him to be your biggest regret.
Telling him how you felt was another thing, though, and writing a letter took you longer than expected. You don’t know how he’ll take it, but you could only hope he’ll see your sincerity through it, and that he’ll still want you, even if it took you quite a while to accept what he felt, too.
His desk isn’t as organized as it usually is, but you place the envelope on top of a folder of blueprints that you know he’s going to get to soon. You know how he is - he always likes his things in their proper place. The center is the urgent pile so you know he’s gonna find this once he gets back and that maybe, he’ll go to you right after, hopefully to tell you that he still wants you, that he still wants to be with you, and that like he’d asked before, you’ll figure things out together. 
There’s fear just as there’s excitement. You hope at the end of all this, you’ll find yourself in his arms - everything forgiven, with nothing but more good memories you’ll create. 
You head out to lunch with the team shortly after and hold off on asking how Jungkook’s doing or about the changes in the Arts Center. Everyone looks tired enough as it is and you don’t want them thinking about work during their break, so you settle on talking about your new job and how excited you are. They’ll be supporting the books, they say; you can’t help but think again about how much you want to share them with Jungkook, too. 
You spend the rest of the day at home, waiting for that phone call from him or perhaps, his knock on your door. You’re unsure if he’ll come today; you don’t want to think that he wouldn’t, even if he has reasons not to want to see you anymore after what you’ve done. 
But the hope lives, as you convince yourself in the evening that maybe he got back to the office late and hadn’t seen your letter. 
You do the same thing the next day - you stay at home, hesitant to leave in case he comes, and then tell yourself that there’s a reason why he hasn’t shown up at your door yet. 
You do it again the day after, then the next, and then again.
The hope remained but it has now withered away. It’s Tuesday afternoon, and he still hasn’t come.
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Jungkook sinks in the seat of his desk, breathing heavily as he tries to catch a break. It’s not much, but it’s the only moment he has of complete silence where he forces himself to not do or think about anything. He gives himself only ten minutes each day for this, other than when he’s sleeping. He does it only between meetings or calls or visits to the Arts Center, which he fits all in one day. 
It’s only 2PM on Thursday but it might as well be late on a Friday evening. He’s exhausted, as if he hasn’t rested for days, as if he hasn’t been sleeping properly, and as if he hasn’t stopped working. And all of those are true. 
Ever since he’d decided on making changes in the Arts Center, he’s been going nonstop. From drawing up the design, purchasing materials, to constructing the room, Jungkook has been doing it all, on top of managing the rest of the work being done. He’s employed the help of Yoongi and a project manager to help him, but Jungkook has been the one making all the decisions, and that definitely didn’t go well with his father. 
He caught the ire of the old man right away, with the CEO scolding him for doing this weeks before the opening and for going over budget, which is why Jungkook stays in the Arts Center most of the day, going in the afternoon and then staying or returning at night, doing the manual labor himself so he doesn’t have to pay more for the workers. He paints the walls as well as some of the furniture, and that’s taken so much of him these past weeks, especially his time, time that he’d taken away from seeing you. 
He wasn’t really present during your last days at the company. He approved all your leaves and he was sincere about having you take them, but during the days when you were in the office, he was barely there. He was either physically at the Center or his mind was. 
Other times, he was performing his executive functions, with Hoseok reminding him of his Vice President duties. Jungkook had neglected some of them, as evidenced by his messy desk that’s giving him a headache. He’s always been organized with his things but not recently, not when all he’s been doing is working himself to the bone like what he’s used to. But this has more at stake for him; this isn’t just some structure or room he’s building. It’s so much more.
One other thing he’s been doing is regretting that he wasn’t there during your last day to bid you goodbye and to see you for the last time, it seemed like. He wished you well and thanked you, even if there was more he wanted to say. He knew he wouldn’t be able to, and he wouldn’t have handled lingering, too, if that would give you a chance to say something more to him that would make him express what he’s really feeling, and he’s scared that would push you further away. 
He was never good at that. The one time he told you what he wanted and felt, things didn’t go right - the timing was off, you doubted his sincerity, and there was so much you kept hidden from him. He hasn’t known what to do nor say since then, which is why he’s doing what he’s doing for you. It’s more than the words he doesn’t know how to say; it’s something he won’t regret as it expresses everything that’s been in his heart, and it’s lasting, it’s constant, it’s comforting; it’s everything he wants to be for you. 
But then again, all this work kept him from seeing you for the last time, and it’s a reminder again of how he’s been living his life - diverting his attention to other things instead of facing what’s important. 
There’s not much he can do now, though. Everything has been completed. All the certifications have been secured, all the invitations are out, the promotion for the opening is all over social media, and the support team is on top of everything that’ll take place tomorrow. With the end of it just within reach, he’s able to take a breath, and it’s why he’s able to extend his short break to 15 minutes. 
The Arts Center is being cleaned and security checked, so he has no choice but to stay away from it until it opens tomorrow. So right now, he has the time to work on his other responsibilities, such as draft plans for a project that Hoseok’s working on that he’d asked Jungkook to review. 
“I had Lucas leave the blueprints on your desk last week,” the older man says over the phone after being asked if the files are still with him. “You should see it right away. It was urgent so I told him to put it at the center.”
“Well, that’s one of many that’s apparently urgent,” Jungkook sighs as he sees the pile of documents in front of him. It seems like he’s neglected a lot of other things this past week. “When did you say you left them?”
“Thursday morning,” Hoseok responds. “You would’ve seen them immediately.”
“I would’ve
 except I haven’t really been at my desk in days.”
Which is the truth. Jungkook has been sitting on his desk only to go through his emails and then signing documents that Lucas gives him before heading to meetings and the Arts Center. It’s been his schedule this entire week, which is why he hadn’t seen the designs that Hoseok’s talking about. And as Jungkook goes through the pile - of memos for checking, of studies from Yoongi - he sees something else that makes his heart drop.
The last time he found an envelope on his desk with your handwriting on it, his world took a complete turn. He remembers reading that resignation letter and thinking that he’d really screwed things up, that life wasn’t going to be the same without you next to him everyday, and that there was no way he could have you again after how things turned out. 
He doesn’t know what to expect with this, not when he hasn’t seen you in days, and not when he doesn’t know how you’re doing right now.
“Kook?” Hoseok says on the other end after the prolonged silence. “Are you still there?”
“Did ___ come to the office this week?” 
“She was here last Thursday. She signed some HR stuff and dropped by my room. Why?”
“She
 she left a letter on my desk.”
“Oh
 What does it say?”
“I
 I haven’t opened it. I’m not sure I’m ready to know what’s inside,” Jungkook says, his hands trembling as he places it back down.
“It could be many things but you won’t know unless you read it,” Hoseok responds. “Both of you have been keeping your feelings to each other from each other, Kook. This
 this might be something that changes that.”
“Did
 did she say anything to you when she visited?”
“Just about her job. She seems content and excited. Whatever else she feels, I’m pretty sure it’s in there. So read it, and don’t worry about the designs. Those can wait.”
Jungkook drops the call, noting that he’ll thank his cousin later on. This letter is the most important thing right now, even if he’s nervous about what’s written on it. 
He finally opens the envelope and the first thing he sees are pictures - one of an empty playground, and another one of you on the swing, smiling. It’s been weeks without your smile, and remembering how much comfort it’s given him is what makes him calm down; it’s what makes him have the courage to read through the letter.
Jungkook,
I took the photo of the playground during my birthday trip using the gift you got me. We passed by a park on the way to one of the towns and we stayed there for a while. It was so beautiful, so peaceful. I felt a kind of comfort I’ve never felt before, and it made me think of how I feel when I’m around you. 
I was thinking of you, too, when Soomin took my photo. I seem to do that a lot, I’ve learned. I think of you and smile, and there’s this unfamiliar feeling of joy. There’s this yearning to feel it everyday, and that scares me. We kissed and the desire for you scared me even more. So did the thought that I can’t be what you need me to be despite what we feel, and that there's a possibility I’d get hurt along the way. 
But I learned that what scares me the most is losing you.
I don’t regret leaving, but I regret how I did it, and I’m so sorry for everything. I wish I got to tell you what I really felt, and I wish I realized much sooner that the happiness I’ve been looking for is one I can find with you. 
I’m scared of many things, Jungkook, but you make me braver. This is me being brave for you. Please come and find me. I hope it’s not too late. 
XX
Jungkook reads the letter one more time. It’s nothing like he imagined but everything he hoped. You’ve wanted him all this time; you still want him after everything. He senses the sadness and the hope in your words, and they’re things he feels, too. 
You want him to find you. And just like you, he hopes it’s not too late. 
He rushes out of his room and instructs Lucas to cancel all his meetings for the day. Jungkook heads to the support team’s office to tell Mr. Ri that there’s somewhere important they need to go. 
“Where to?” The older man asks once they get inside the car.
“___’s place,” Jungkook pants. “Get there as fast as you can.”
Mr. Ri doesn’t ask any more questions. He drives off and merely glances at the rear view mirror. 
“We’ll get to her,” he says. “One way or another, we’ll get to her.”
Jungkook could only hope, but when he gets to your apartment and finds it empty, that hope slowly fades. He’d call you but that’s not how he wants to fix things, he thinks. That’s not how he wants to ask you to be with him. He probably won’t even be able to say what he really means. So he tries one more, knocking and calling out your name, but no one comes.
“She’s not here,” someone calls out. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Jungkook turns around and finds your elderly neighbor, a woman he’d seen that one day he visited you after you got injured. You’ve mentioned her a few times and how she sends over food on some nights and invites you for tea on some weekends. She looks kind and warm, and definitely curious.
“She
 she asked me to find her,” he says dejectedly. “But I didn’t know she wanted me to. I didn’t see her letter right away and now
 now it’s too late.”
“You’re the man she was waiting for,” she hums, walking closer. “She’s right, you’re very handsome.”
“She
 she talked about me?”
“A few times. I asked about how she got home when she hurt her ankle and she said you helped her,” the woman smiles. “I don’t see anybody visit her other than her friends. And I’ve known her for years; I haven’t seen any other man she’s allowed in her home in all that time, nor has she talked about one. I knew then you meant a lot to her. But she said things were too complicated and that always held her back.”
“That always held me back, too,” he responds. He’d smile at the thought that you’ve talked about him, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re gone. There’s a reason why you stopped waiting. “Has she been well?”
“She has. She seems to have more life in her now. I always felt like her old job tired her out so much,” she says. “She’s excited to start fresh, and I’m proud of her. Oftentimes we stay in one place for too long and we just lose ourselves in it, you know? We lose sight of the things that make us happy and it was really brave of her to leave behind everything she’s known.”
“It was. I know that now,” Jungkook sighs. “Did she say if she found it? What makes her happy?”
“She did. She said she found you.”
The words hit him, as he knows it’s the same for him. You may have found each other in the place you’ve both been in for so long, but it’s losing each other that perhaps made you both realize what it was you couldn’t live without. Letting each other go showed what happiness actually looked like, and that neither of you wanted to be without it anymore.
“I found her too late, I think.”
“That’s for her to decide, though. You won’t know unless you look for her,” she hints. 
“When did she leave?”
“Tuesday afternoon. That was just two days ago. I doubt she’s changed her mind,” she smiles again. “Well, I’d love to stay here and chat but I have some grandchildren to pick up. And I believe you have someone to find.”
“I think I do,” he responds, the nervousness evident in his voice. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome,” she hums. “Get to her, okay? She deserves someone who won’t give up on her.”
You don’t, Jungkook agrees, as he nods in goodbye and heads back to the car. That’s not something he will do this time. All he’s done was let his fears and worries speak for him these past months and he doesn’t want to do that anymore, not when there’s more of you that he’ll lose. 
“She’s not home,” Jungkook responds to Mr. Ri’s questioning look. “I
 I didn’t get to her in time.”
“Where to, then?”
Jungkook breaks as he imagines you in your apartment, waiting for him, wondering when he’d call or knock on your door. He can’t imagine you still doing that after he made you wait, but the one thing he’ll do this time is go to where you are and tell you everything he needs to. 
After the heartbreak he caused, he assumes you’d go to either your family or your friends. He remembers the way you’d talked about your mom in the past, and how her comfort was always the one you sought.
“Do you mind driving to Daegu?” Jungkook asks. 
“Not at all,” Mr. Ri smiles. “I figure she’ll be there, too.”
The long drive feels that much longer with Jungkook in the passenger seat, just looking out the window and watching the buildings and houses pass him by. He turns to the man next to him every once in a while, asking about how you were during your last weeks in the office.
“She was trying her best, making sure she had everything organized. She spent a lot of time with the team, too, and I think that lessened her guilt, because she felt that,” Mr. Ri shares. “She hated that she had to leave at this time, but I knew it meant a lot to her that she was finally doing it.”
Jungkook hums, thankful that the team assured you that it was all okay. But still, he wondered some more, and the look on his face is something that the older man reads. 
“She hated that she had to leave you, too,” Mr. Ri adds. “I think it mattered to her that she didn’t feel tied to your family through you, even if she was always going to be. It mattered that she made that choice to leave you, that she came to terms with who she is and her past and decided that it didn’t matter, that she still wanted you despite all of that.”
“You sound hopeful,” Jungkook laughs dryly. “That makes one of us.”
“You can tell how much someone cares by how they hurt, Jungkook. And during her farewell dinner when you didn’t show up, she
 she was hurt,” Mr. Ri says. “I had to wipe her tears that night. I think that’s also when she realized how much she really felt for you, when she saw what life could be like without you and knew it wouldn’t make her happy.”
Knowing he made you cry again when he wasn’t there on your last day frustrates Jungkook. He held himself back that time, thinking that a short goodbye would be better for both of you. Then he spent the rest of the day at the Arts Center and he’d completely forgotten about the dinner. In his mind, he already let you go; seeing you another time would pain him again. But that’s what hurt you in return. 
“Why are you going after her now?” Mr. Ri bursts through his thoughts. “After all these weeks of avoiding her, of convincing yourself that letting her go was the right decision, why now?”
“It hurts so much without her. I guess it’s how I know.”
The older man gives a satisfied smile. He always knew that only both of you could decide for yourselves when the pain was too much because only both of you would really know what to do about it. You've done your part and now it’s Jungkook’s turn.
They make it to your neighborhood in over three hours, with only one stop over at a service center. It’s the house in the corner, Mr. Ri says, and realizing that you’re so close again, Jungkook starts getting anxious. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. He supposes that coming out here to see you on a work day is enough of a statement, and maybe you’ll both just take it from there.
The car stops and he looks at the man to his left, as if pleading to take the lead for now. 
“Aish,” Mr. Ri huffs. “Are you really gonna make me ring the doorbell and ask for her after driving you all the way here?”
“Yes,” Jungkook pouts. “I
 I don’t know what to say. What if she doesn’t wanna see me because I made her wait too long? What if she’s angry? What if she realized while waiting for me that she made a mistake?”
“Over three hours sitting in the car and that’s what you came up with? That she’s angry?” Mr. Ri scowls. “Don’t make me think you’re hopeless.”
“Please?” 
The older man sighs, thinking that Jungkook just needs time to pull himself together before facing you. 
They both get out of the car, with Jungkook standing on the side of the entryway, hiding behind the shrubs just in case you answer the door. 
Mr. Ri rings the doorbell and not long after, the gate opens. And for all the years that Jungkook has known the older man - with his firm and often stoic disposition - this is the first time that he’s ever seen his face soften, the gentle smile appearing and lingering. There’s a beat of silence, a moment of appreciation it seems, before he says anything.
“Hye-soo. It’s so nice to see you again.”
“Byung-hun,” the woman greets. “It’s been so long. When was the last time we saw each other? Was it ___’s 25th birthday?”
“I think it was. That was a really great day. Your house looked much different back then.”
“Who knew an old house needed repairs and renovations to stay up,” she laughs. “But it all worked out. We’ve got more space now.”
“Space enough for Yoon-chae and Yeo-jin to run about?” Mr. Ri chuckles. “I remember their tag game then. They complained how it always ended so fast. But ___ also told me they’ve grown up so much now. And that they adore you. How’s it like raising teenagers at this time?”
“Ah, difficult,” she chuckles. “But it’s wonderful. They
 they truly see me as their mother and I
 I get to do things right this time.”
“Hey, you always did,” he comforts, having seen her do everything she could for you. “No one could’ve raised and loved ___ better than you. You got through the toughest times because of that.”
“With a little help, of course,” she smiles. “You know I couldn’t have done it without you. And years later, you’re still looking out for her. That means the world to me.”
She’s where all my love goes to, Mr. Ri doesn’t say. He knew early on that the only way to not lose himself in losing her is to care for the one person she loves the most - you.
“And you? Have you been well?” Hye-soo asks. 
“As well as I could be,” he hums. “The stress isn’t the same as when I was working next to Jae-sung but he still tasked me to babysit his son; that in itself is a bit tough.”
“And why is that?” Hye-soo giggles, knowing there’s affection in his words.
“He’s a bit of a hard-head, you know? Pretty stubborn, too, just like his father,” Mr. Ri laments, disregarding the scrunched eyebrows of the man just meters away from him. “And he makes me drive all the way out here, only to be scared to face the woman he’s been looking for.”
“Is that so?” Hye-soo asks, picking up on the man in front of him gesturing towards the side. “I hope he knows that he has nothing to be afraid of.”
Mr. Ri finally turns to Jungkook, motioning for him to get out of hiding and do what he came here for. Jungkook sighs in his place, thinking that this is the first time he’s meeting your mother, and it’s after he’d made you wait and think that he doesn’t feel the same way. With his head bowed down, he walks towards the gate. 
There’s a softness on his face when he looks up, and Hye-soo beams in delight at how the man she hasn’t seen in over 20 years looks very much like the 10-year old boy who used to quietly draw cars and houses on the Jeon mansion living room floor. It’s that same shyness and those same wide and curious eyes that made her have a soft spot for the younger son. They reminded her so much of you. 
“Jungkook,” she says with such warmth. “You’ve grown up so well. It’s nice to see you after all these years.”
She definitely has your smile. It’s welcoming and assuring and perhaps the one thing he didn’t know he needed before seeing you. There’s so much comfort in her eyes, and there’s this subtle strength that she exudes, one that’s oddly giving him the courage to face you. 
“Mrs. Cho,” he bows. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I wish it was because of other reasons, though.”
“What’s wrong about the reason you have today?” She wonders. 
“A lot of things,” he sighs.
“Nonsense. You’re here. That’s all that matters,” she smiles. “Would you like to come in?”
“That would be great.”
Jungkook follows inside while Mr. Ri opts to stay behind. 
There’s something special about entering someone’s house. People spend time and energy to make it feel like home, to make it be a place of safety and warmth. It’s a place filled with all the things they care about, of all the things they love. 
Jungkook never designed the places he’s lived in; an irony, considering his profession. But his residences have always been a place for him to just move into, to just sleep and eat and work at. They’ve always been
 empty - grand, expensive, well-designed, but empty. They’re superficial, he would say, a reflection of what he’s always felt. Which is also why he never really welcomes anyone other than his friends. The women he used to bring home don’t count - he’d let them in and make them leave; he never makes them stay long enough to be comfortable, to feel like they belong there. Sometimes he doesn’t feel like he belongs there, either, as if it’s a place reserved just for him to feel alone in. 
And so being welcomed in someone else’s home feels different. You’d done it to him, and being in your apartment both times made him feel at ease and familiar. Now, your mother welcomes him to the place where you grew up and it feels the same - there’s that comfort, that sense of nostalgia, even if he knows he’s never been here before.
“Welcome to our humble mansion,” your mother says. “Please, feel at home. Would you like some tea?”
“Uh, yes. Tea is fine,” he bows.
She heads to the kitchen and Jungkook is left to look around. It’s not a small house but it’s not large, either. He’s in the middle of a spacious living room, with shelves lining up the walls - one has family pictures in it, the other one has books and small framed paintings. The dining and kitchen are to the right; on the left is a hallway that seems to lead towards the bedrooms. There’s a screened door that also leads out the backyard. 
The entire space is airy, with lots of natural light coming through the windows. He spots some renovations done over time, as there’s some mismatch of materials, something only trained eyes could see. But they’re done well, and he could see the love that created this home for all of you. 
Your mother returns with two cups and places them on the table. She asks him to sit down, and Jungkook makes himself comfortable, facing the door as he gazes out at the sky and admires the beautiful changing of the colors. He knows you’d probably admire how it looks, too.
She observes him - nervous as he meets her eyes, a kind of desperation and fear evident as he constantly shifts on his seat. He’s grown up so much, but he’s still that shy little boy she remembers meeting all those years ago. She used to regularly go to the Jeon estate for some private events, and she won’t forget how Jungkook was the son who always kept to himself, content with a sketchpad and some crayons or riding the swing in his custom-built playground. 
“Do you remember me at all?” She wonders. 
“No,” he shakes his head. “Did I see you often?”
“A handful of times,” she responds. “Your father introduced me to you and your brother when I first started and I’d see you whenever I had to go to your house. But you were always so shy.”
“I was, but I
 I wasn’t really good at paying attention. And I guess, there were a lot of things from when I was younger that I don’t remember,” he explains. 
The faraway look in his eyes says that there’s more to that, that they aren’t just things he doesn’t remember but they’re memories he tries not to, that he blocks out. 
“I’m sorry about what you had to go through as a child,” your mother says, having wanted to express her apology for years, knowing how much the experience haunted him. “I involved your parents in a very personal matter and that deeply affected your family. It affected you.”
“It wasn’t your fault. And I know it wasn’t my parents’, either,” he sighs, feeling regret over the resentment he felt and the distance he created. 
“They were just trying to protect you. I hope you know that now.”
“I do,” he hums. “Do you
 do you know what happened that night? In the woods?”
“Byung-hun told me,” she nods. “I’ve never seen him so broken over not finding you sooner. He carried that guilt with him, too, that he didn’t look out for you the way he should’ve.”
“I
 I didn’t know that.”
“That man feels a lot even if he doesn’t show it. He’s got the biggest heart that I know and he cares for you so much,” she smiles. “A lot of people do. That includes my daughter.”
At the mention of you, Jungkook’s eyes perk up, the softness mixed with sadness evident once more.
“She and I didn’t want our ties to your family to be known,” she explains. “It was a way for us to move on from all that happened. But in no way did she mean to deceive you. She
 she would talk about you with such admiration and fondness. And you showed her that it was okay to let people in, that it could be worth it to follow her heart. She’d hoped that you could see past her decisions and know that she was sincere about everything. That she was sincere about what she felt for you.”
“I
 I know that now.”
“And I suppose that’s why you’re here?”
“It is,” he sighs, wanting so badly to see you, even if he doesn’t know how to say everything he wants to. “Is she around?”
There’s a prolonged silence after his question, and your mother’s eyes flit to the far end of the house before they return to him. 
“She, uh, she picked up the girls from school and decided to have dinner out and watch the movies,” she excuses. “I’m not quite sure what time they’ll arrive. And it’s a shame that you came all the way here. Is there anything you want me to tell her?”
Jungkook debates whether he should wait to say all this to you, perhaps when you’re ready and able to see him, or to say what he can now, knowing it’s important that he gets to express whatever he can at this moment, knowing it will get to you somehow. 
But he also doesn’t know how much longer he can hold everything in. All the emotions he feels for you - the regret, the yearning, the desire to have you next to him - have been festering and he just needs to say them. Maybe doing so in front of your mother might be a bit of pressure, but if there’s anyone who can relay all this to you, it would be her.
“There’s a lot of things I’m not good at, Mrs. Cho. Opening myself up is one of them,” he starts. “But your daughter, she
 she showed me that it wasn’t so bad. That it’s something I’m capable of doing, and that it’s safe to do that with her. Even when I distanced myself, she didn’t go anywhere, and that does a lot for a person.”
“She’s quite stubborn, isn’t she?” Your mother laughs, remembering those hard times when she’d tell you to get ready for bed, with you disobeying her because you wanted to hold her hand while she cried.
“She is,” he echoes. “It’s one of the reasons why I like her. One of many, actually. She’s also so patient and gentle and understanding
 everything I’m not but
 all the things I want to be for her. And I wish I’d told her all this when I had the chance but I was so blinded by my own needs that I
 I eventually pushed her away. But she was still the one to reach out. She left that letter but I only saw it today and I
”
“Came all the way here to see her,” she finishes. 
“Is it too late, do you think?”
“Between the both of us, not at all,” your mother smiles. “She’s all those things you said but she’s human, Jungkook. She gets scared, too, and hard-headed and tired and upset because she feels so much when she allows herself to do that. And sometimes she needs someone to just show her that it’s worth it, that having fears is valid but that they’re not the only things out there. And you being here
 I think it’s what she needs.”
She pauses so he could process her words, meeting his eyes so he could feel them even more. 
“You’re all she thinks about, you know? She likes being home with us and she’s excited for her new job but I can tell that there’s something missing. And I know that's you.”
“She’s all I think about, too,” he expresses, feeling more at ease now. “It doesn’t matter what I’m doing or where I am, I just always think about being with her. And I know that made her doubt, too. I’ve gotten so used to her presence but that’s not out of necessity. I’m not
 a boss when I’m with her. I’m just
 me. Because she made me see myself as someone beyond all that I do, someone worthy, and it’s that person who wants her, who needs her.”
Jungkook bows his head, angry at himself as all the words come out now, at a time when you’re not in front of him to hear them, to see that he means all of them. For weeks, all the things you said rang in his mind and every time you were in front of him, there were so many things he wanted to say but he never could, afraid of your rejection, of losing you for good. Now they’re out in the open, but somehow the words don’t seem enough. He realizes that when it comes to what he feels for you, nothing is. 
“These are the things I should’ve said to her but I just got overwhelmed at the thought of losing her,” he continues. “I don’t want that, Mrs. Cho. I don’t want to lose your daughter. I want to be with her and tell her that she doesn’t have to be scared anymore, that I want to protect her and take care of her. I want to make her happy.”
It’s the most he’s said about how he feels for you, and he feels quite overwhelmed about expressing them. But he has to say them. You have to know, even if you’re not the one in front of him. They’ll get to you, he’s sure of it.
“I know she wants that, too, Jungkook. And seeing you now, I just know you’ll find your way to each other again, and you’ll both be free from whatever it was that was holding you back,” she assures. “But if it’s not too much, do you mind being a little patient with her this time?”
“Of course,” he nods, knowing that everything that’s happened could make you a bit cautious again, and that’s not something he could blame you for. He’ll give you as much time as you need, and you’ll be the one to find him once you’re ready. “I’ll just be where I always am. And uh, the Arts Center opens tomorrow. It would be great if she could come.”
“She’ll know where to find you,” she smiles. 
He feels that he’s said all that he could, so he finishes his tea and stands up. He remembers that he bought something for you, initially hoping that it would make you smile once he gave them. 
“Could you, uh, could you give this to her?” He asks, handing your mother a plastic bag, somehow feeling ashamed that this is all he got as a peace offering. 
She peeks inside, her eyes widening in delight.
“Chocopie?” 
“Yeah,” he smiles shyly. “I would’ve given her flowers but I just thought this would make her happier. ___ told me that it’s her favorite because you’d give it to her as a treat while she waited for you to get off work at the school. She said it always made her day.”
“This was your favorite, too, wasn’t it?” Your mother asks. 
“It was. My mother said I always hoarded the ones she’d bring home and wouldn’t share it with anyone,” Jungkook chuckles, recalling those days of stacking them in his room and quietly eating them while he drew houses on his drawing pad. 
“You shared it to ___, though,” she says.
It catches him by surprise. He’s never done that, as far as he knows. This is the first time he’s even getting it for you. 
“That night those years ago, after I told your father what was happening, he offered us to stay at the staff house of your family’s estate until I’ve sorted things out,” she recalls. “We were in the living room while your parents talked to me and there was little ___, hiding behind my legs. I noticed her let go for a bit and that’s when I saw you, handing her some chocopie. She was always a shy kid but she took what you were giving, and I remember the smile on her face. Everything was new and scary for her and that
 that was the first time she smiled that day. And I’ll never forget it.”
Jungkook stands in silence, as much of his memories from those years have been buried deep in his mind. He remembers hiding away whenever there were visitors at home but perhaps he looked on, curious about the girl who seemed scared and maybe something prompted him to share the treat with you, and something pushed you to take it. 
“I thought she was just being nice,” your mother continues. “She didn’t really like sweets then but she ate the ones you gave her. And when I’d take her to the convenience store after that, it’s what she always picked out. I’ve just been getting it for her since then, and that’s probably what she remembers but it was you, Jungkook. You’re why I bought it for her every time.”
“We’ve
 we’ve met before. And I didn’t even know,” he manages to say, thinking now about the familiarity of your presence and the need to always look out for you. 
It’s something he always wondered about, how someone could just pull him in and make him feel things he’d never felt before - that comfort, that warmth, that desire to be good for someone else. It turns out, he’d felt those long before he knew much about the world. And while so many things happened that got both of you here, there’s still something serendipitous about not realizing you met as kids, and then finding each other decades later. There’s all this pain and sadness between the both of you, much of them intertwined, but at the end of it, you heal each other, you make each other stronger, braver. 
“She didn’t know, either,” your mother hums. “And this just means that she always kept something of you from that day. Without realizing it, you were always a good memory that she kept; you let her forget the bad things even though she'd forgotten about you, too. It’s how I know that even if she’s not the one in front of you right now, her heart will always search for you.”
Your mother’s smile is reassuring, as if she knows that it’s what he needs. He’d meant to find you today and tell you everything he feels, but somehow he believes it would’ve been hard for him to do that, and so expressing it is all he could do. He feels like he’s gotten so much despite not seeing you though. Learning that missing part of his childhood that had you in it is overwhelming enough, but perhaps it reinforces what he’s known all along - that his heart will also always search for you, it’ll always find you, and it will always be what he wants to hold close to him.
“Thank you for welcoming me to your home, Mrs. Cho,” he says as he bows another time and heads out to leave. “It means a lot meeting you today.”
“It does for me, too,” she states, leading him towards the door and out to the street where Mr. Ri waits. “And thank you for being good to my daughter. She’ll find you. You have to trust that she will.”
He nods, knowing he’ll just have to have faith in what you feel for him. And he hopes that as he walks away and gives you the space you need, you’ll trust in what he feels for you, too.
Your mother bids you and Mr. Ri goodbye, the longing look between friends hitting Jungkook deeply. They’re each other’s what if’s, and while one was able to live out another love, the other kept living out the one he let go of. It’s painful, and Jungkook now can’t imagine making that choice of letting you go completely. 
Love is a big word. It’s something he’s forgotten how to feel. He knows there’s still so much more to experience with you and love could be one thing, and that’s a possibility he’s sure he wants to live out one day.
He enters the car and sighs as he sinks in his seat. It’s been a long day and an even longer trip back home, but Mr. Ri insists that they take it.
The older man starts the car and looks dejectedly to his side. “So, she wasn’t there, huh?”
It takes a while but Jungkook answers. “She was.”
It’s a wild guess, but somehow he knew you were there, probably inside one of the opened rooms or in the hallway, just meters away from him but still so far away. Your mother had said you were out, but the way her eyes constantly flitted elsewhere, the way she gave him the time and space to just talk and express his feelings, and the fact that she’d shared that story about both of you meeting as children as if she meant to say it to you, too, all told him that you were right there. 
Maybe you hadn’t expected him to come. Maybe you didn’t know what to say this time. Or maybe you thought that seeing you would leave him tongue-tied again, unable to express everything he means, and you wouldn’t be wrong. He just focused on what he felt and not the right things to say or how you’d react at that moment, and he supposes that allowed him to be vulnerable, too. 
“And you’re not there with her because?” Mr. Ri wonders. 
“Because she needs time,” Jungkook states. “And it’s the least I could give her. And I’ll wait until she’s ready. We’ve spent all these months avoiding each other, thinking that letting each other go is the way to move forward but I
 I know that’s not what I want. She is. And I’ll show her I mean it.”
“Well, you went to her. And that’s not all you’re doing.”
“I’m not good with words, you know that,” Jungkook shakes his head.
“I do. She knows that, too. So when she sees everything that you’ve done
 she’ll know you mean it.”
It's the assurance that Jungkook needs, and he’ll hold onto that, too, until the time you find him again. Right now, he’ll focus on the Arts Center - he owes it to you to make sure that all the work you put into it is worth it. He knows you’ll want that, too. 
The long drive to Daegu had him think about how much of yourself you’ve given to the project that means the world to him. You may have done so because it was your job, but he can’t help but think that in the midst of it, you saw what he was yearning for, what he was trying to attain for himself, and that it mattered to you that he did. 
Jungkook and Mr. Ri go to a restaurant for dinner on the way back to Seoul, and the serious expression on the older man’s face has returned. This is his default state, but his soft, longing look is something that Jungkook won’t forget soon.
“How was it like seeing her after all these years?” Jungkook wonders. “Does
 does it still hurt, knowing what could have been and the life she lives now?”
It takes a while but Mr. Ri finally replies. “In an alternate universe, Hye-soo and I are living with our family on some farm. We talked about that a few times, about wanting to grow old in a place that’s peaceful,” he recalls, all those long drives and hectic days becoming worth it whenever he shared them with her. “But this is the universe and lifetime I’m living now. The decisions I made brought me here, but they also set her free. You’ve met her, you’ve seen her home. She’s happy where she is and even if it’s not next to me, that’s the life I always wish she’d have.”
Jungkook hums, unable to fully comprehend the heartbreak of letting someone go like that, and then seeing them live a life that he could’ve shared with them. Thinking about meeting you at a park or something years from now, perhaps with a husband or children, and then wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t let you go plagues him. That’s not the life he wants. It’s not a decision he wants to make, and he could only hope that neither do you. 
He looks across at the man in front of him with all that love for the woman he can’t have, and Jungkook wonders where all of that goes, recalling a conversation from not long ago, when Mr. Ri first revealed about a woman he’s held onto for years. 
“Does it all go to ___, then? All that love?” 
“It does,” Mr. Ri hums. “It also goes to your family, Jungkook. It goes to you. Those have kept me going all these years and they always will, so seeing you and ___ care for each other means a lot to me, too.”
It’s a comforting thought, knowing that at the end of everything, Mr. Ri still finds happiness in others, that he hasn’t allowed himself to fall into a kind of despair that paralyzes him. Jungkook recalls growing up and seeing the older man always by his father’s side, joining him on his trips and then coming back with some treats that he gives to Jungkook and his brother. When he was in Singapore, Mr. Ri visited often, showing up whenever he had a project launch. Jungkook also knows that he stayed in Canada for a few months, helping Jeong-sik recover after an accident left him with broken limbs. 
And there was that incident that Jungkook carries with him, how he was powerless and alone under the rain but it was Mr. Ri who searched for him, who didn’t give up, who dealt with that guilt for years. And Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s ever thanked the man for all he’s done. 
They engage in light talk for the rest of dinner. Jungkook offers to drive the rest of the way home, insisting that it’s a way for him to preoccupy himself instead of thinking about you. They spend it recalling his growing up years, how he slowly isolated himself, and then how he gradually opened up again. The older man expresses how proud he is, that regardless of what happens after all this, Jungkook pursued his happiness, and that’s what matters.
“Thank you, for uh, for everything,” Jungkook says as he exits the car, hoping that his simple words would convey all his emotions. 
There’s a softness on Mr. Ri’s face this time, one that Jungkook has seen only twice in his lifetime, both of which were today. It speaks of care and warmth; he knows now that it also speaks of love.
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You lay on your mother’s lap, needing the comfort you always felt whenever she held you close and ran her fingers through your hair. It’s something she always did when you were a child, and she knows that despite having grown up, you need it now just as much as you did before. She doesn’t say much, letting the silence of your bedroom envelope the both of you this Thursday evening. 
It’s been a roller coaster of emotions this past week, and today pretty much took you on a deep plunge that has you holding onto your chest and wanting the stability of being on the ground. After you left that letter on Jungkook’s desk last Thursday, you stayed in your apartment and waited for days. 
In hindsight, maybe it was silly that you stayed put when you could’ve called or gone back to his office in an attempt to talk to him. But you weren’t sure what he was feeling, if he was harboring resentment for how you chose to leave, or if he was too busy with the Arts Center opening to even think about you. He kept himself busy during your last weeks after all, and he missed your farewell dinner, too. 
That letter was your way of expressing yourself without the fear of outright rejection. And giving him that decision to find you was your way of telling him that it was his call, that if he still wanted you, you’d be waiting for him. And that’s what you did, day in and day out - you waited for that knock on the door or for the ring of your phone. 
It drove you crazy, thinking that you could be with him already, but the possibility of him also deciding that that’s no longer what he wanted plagued your mind; it’s what kept you from making that call or paying him a visit. There was that part of you that couldn’t help but think that he might’ve wanted things to just remain as they are. It made you realize that despite taking that step of being brave, there was still fear within you that held you back.
The hope dwindled by the weekend despite the comforting conversation you had with your neighbor, and on Tuesday afternoon, the sadness took over. You packed your bags and decided that if you were to get over this, being with your family is where you need to be. You knew your mother would convince you to wait for Jungkook a little longer. She’d be the reasonable one and say that maybe he’d missed the letter. And she may be right, but if you were to pursue him again, you knew you needed to be around people you loved to give you back that strength and confidence.
It turns out, your mother was right. Jungkook did miss the letter. It took him days to see it, and he didn’t waste his time and went to find you right away. Perhaps that certainty that you’ve been needing is what turns out to be the one that overwhelms you in the end. You walked out of your room to find him in your living room, and you froze. You stayed rooted in that hallway, listening to him talk about what he felt for you, and all you could do was hug your knees as you sat on the floor, taking his words in, hoping they’d heal your heart as quickly as his silence broke it.
“Do you think he knew I was there?” You look up to your mother in question. 
“I think he did,” she hums. “I doubt he would’ve said as much as he did to me, someone he’s just met, unless he knew you could hear him. He had this look on his eyes - it was sad and sincere, full of regret but also of hope. And it just felt like was baring himself right there, hoping you’d know exactly what he felt.”
You think about it. Knowing Jungkook, he wouldn’t have let himself be that vulnerable to someone that easily, even if it was in front of your mother. He’s not always able to express himself to you, and maybe that’s why. Maybe like you, he loses his words and caves in in front of the person he wants. It’s happened so many times to you, and it’s one reason you chose a letter to express your feelings; saying it to him directly with all the uncertainties just terrified you. 
But he’d been bold, he’d been honest. And you got to hear his every word, and you believed all of it.
“Why didn’t you want to see him?” she asks, given that you’d shaken your head when she looked at you after he’d asked if you were around. “What were you so afraid of?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It felt so long being without him, and I was holding onto this hope after leaving that letter and then the wait just
 it discouraged me. Somehow seeing him there paralyzed me a little,” you explain. “Suddenly I wasn’t ready. I had all these feelings that were hanging in the air and to hear that he returned all those was just
 I
 I was overwhelmed because he was finally within reach.”
“Both of you are in this constant push and pull that’s keeping you from each other,” she points out. “At some point, you’ll have to just get over the fear and meet him where he is and he’ll have to do the same. No one wins in fear, darling. Weren’t you the one who told me I owed it to myself to give Min-woo a chance? You’re the one who said it was better to be scared with him next to me than to be scared alone.”
“Easy to say that when I’m on the outside, it seems,” you chuckle. “I get what you were feeling then, mom, and I understand now how hard it must’ve been.”
“That’s true, so you’re gonna have to trust me that what you said was true - it was better that I was scared with him next to me than if I was alone,” she repeats. “But I made that choice and it was the best one, because I can’t be any happier than I am now because I let him love me, and I allowed myself to love him. You and Jungkook could do that. You just have to trust that it’s all worth it.”
You nod. At the end of the day, you know it makes a difference that it’s your mother reminding you all of this. It’s her pain that you carried, it’s why you were always scared of opening up and sharing your whole self to another person. And it’s also why it matters that it’s her happiness that she reminds you of that pushes you to get over your fear, or at least, to choose to be with Jungkook in spite of it. 
She tucks you in bed and tells you to get some sleep now. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow, she says, as you have to make that long trip back to Seoul in time for the Arts Center opening. 
“As your mother, I’m kicking you out of my house,” she teases. “You are to head out there and tell that man how you really feel, okay? I won’t allow you back here until he’s with you.”
“That’s unfair,” you pout.
“It is, but so is keeping yourself away from him,” she shakes her head. “You take after me so much. Stop being stubborn.”
You laugh this time, knowing that while it’s that stubbornness that pushed Jungkook to open up to you, it’s that same trait that’s keeping you away from him.
“I will. And I’ll head out tomorrow,” you promise. “I’m so tired of being sad.”
“Good. No one gets tired from being happy, so that’s what you should try to be.”
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Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, tightening his necktie and then spending half a minute to determine if it’s aligned or not. 
It’s something he’s started doing. It’s been weeks since you left and stopped doing it for him, and even if Lucas has pointed out a few times that it was crooked, the younger man never really attempted to fix it. Jungkook didn’t really have a choice but to learn how to do it himself. For an architect with trained eyes, he’s ironically terrible at assessing something as simple as this. He never knows if he’s done it right, and he’ll always be amazed at how you do it. 
He finally decides he’s done it correctly, and he takes his coat to complete his look for the biggest day of his professional life. He opts for the classic suit this time, needing that refinement and elegance that a Kim Taehyung tailored outfit gives. Despite his best friend’s suggestions of trying something a little different, Jungkook insisted that simple is what he wants - the attention shouldn’t be on him, adamant that a textured charcoal ensemble would do its job. The pattern differentiates it from an ordinary suit so he at least doesn’t blend in too much and it’s a good compromise. You agreed with him on this months ago, and hearing you assure him that it looks good on him is something he’s missing.
He shakes his head at the thought. Here he is again, his mind going to you. Perhaps it’s his body’s way of dealing with the nerves; somehow thinking of you calms him down even if you’re not around. You’ve always had that effect on him, and with the unveiling of most important project of his life as the company’s Vice President, that composure and confidence is what he needs. 
It doesn’t stop him from wishing that you’d taken to heart what he said yesterday, not just about what he feels but about finding him. You know most of the details of today’s opening, and if you wanted to, you’d come to show your support even if he kept you in the dark during your last weeks. And if you really wanted to, you’d come to tell him that you want to be with him, and that you’re not going to walk away this time. 
It’s difficult to have today, of all days, be somewhat of a determinant of how things are going to go for both of you. He’ll definitely wait for as long as he needs to until you’re ready to face him again, but if it’s not today, he’s afraid there’s more that’s holding you back, and that not getting to you early on must’ve really hurt you. 
But he’ll keep on, as so much has happened for this day to be as successful as he hopes it to be. Hoseok constantly reminds him of the entire team’s hard work and that it’s what will pull him through. But beyond the expectations from his parents and the Board and past the importance for the artists involved, this was Jungkook’s dream as a professional, and he made it happen. He’ll hold out hope until the last moment that he’ll see you there, though, but if he doesn’t, he’ll just have to deal with your absence like he’s been doing these past weeks.
Jungkook exits his bedroom and gets approving looks from his best friends who’ll be his support system for today. He’d gone to the Arts Center early in the morning despite last night’s long trip back to Seoul, wanting to make sure that everything was okay. It took some reprimanding from his father to finally go home to fix up, the older man claiming that Jungkook will need to collect himself before all the activities in the afternoon. 
There’s an interview with the Culture Minister, a press conference right after, and an afternoon tea spread in the nearby hotel for all the artists whose work will be exhibited for the opening - all before the ceremony scheduled for 5PM. It’s a big day and an even bigger evening, and he’ll have to preserve his energy and learn to manage, and it’s the first big event without you. He knows it’ll be hard, so do his friends, which is why they're here to show their support and lend their energy when needed.
“You look like the star of the show,” Seokjin praises. “It’s a really good suit.”
“The stars of the show are the artists, actually,” Jungkook corrects. “And the public. It isn’t me.”
“Too bad. It’s a simple suit but you’re styled to still get attention so own it,” Taehyung states. “You look really good, Kook. So chin up, okay? It’s all gonna be fine.”
Jungkook tries to smile, hoping that faking it would eventually make it look real.
“We know it’s tough and you wish you could share it with ___, but just think that she’d want you to enjoy this either way,” Seokjin comforts. “You also owe it to her to give it your best today.”
He knows his friends are right. So many things had to come together for today to happen. Everyone involved did their parts. He heard that there’s so much buzz on social media about the Arts Center and the registration that opened to the public exceeded expectations, and that’s only the beginning. Thinking of all the possibilities excites him, and he’ll hold onto that to get him through the day. Or the week and even beyond that, if needed. 
Jungkook nods and thanks his friends, saying that it means a lot that they’re there for him. It catches them by surprise because he’s not one to easily express gratitude or any level of sentimentality. They suppose it’s what having you around had done for him, and maybe losing you also reminded him of the importance of being vulnerable. 
They head to the hotel that’s one block away from the Arts Center. Jungkook goes through the interview with ease, and with the support of his father, Hoseok, Ji-woo, and Lucas, he manages the press conference, too. He takes some time to collect himself after all that engagement, then he proceeds to the event hall to meet with the artists, curators, and craftspeople and show his appreciation. 
He feels a sense of accomplishment already just knowing that they’re as excited as he is. The inaugural exhibitions feature their work, and the products created to commemorate them are all beautiful. It’s truly come together, he thinks, and he allows himself to feel pride for the first time, knowing that more than the structure, it’s the connections and the art that they’re all celebrating, and it’s what he always hoped to achieve with this project.
It’s not long after when he finds himself in the Arts Center, first doing the customary ribbon cutting with his father and the Culture Minister before entering the lobby where he’ll give the formal welcome and signal the official opening of the center. 
It feels different with so many people present, all awaiting to see how the structure was renovated and what new features they’ll look forward to. There’s a buzz of excitement that Jungkook internalizes, as he sits on a chair by the stage. He watches on as his father and cousins go around to meet the guests, opting to save his energy for his speech. It’s the feel of his mother’s touch that makes him realize he’s shaking, and he turns to her and is met with her warm smile. It’s been a while since he allowed that to comfort him, and at this moment, it’s what he needs. 
“It already looks gorgeous, son,” she assures him. “And you’re going to do amazing up there. People listen when you talk, and they believe in what you say. I’ve seen it. So just trust in yourself, okay? At the end of the day, the structure speaks for itself, and that’s what the people will remember.”
“Thank you, mother,” Jungkook smiles back. “And thank you for staying here with me. And uh, for all the other project launches that you attended.”
“Of course, Jungkook. I’ll always be there to support you,” she says. “Anything that makes you happy makes me happy. Anything that you work on will be something I’m proud of. Never forget that.”
He nods, feeling a little lighter the more he accepts the love and support of those around him. He never really knew what that felt like, and he knows that’s all on him. He’ll try to change that now, and he supposes that expressing and receiving gratitude is one thing that he took from you. He just hopes he gets to have an opportunity to thank you again - he wouldn’t have done any of this without you.
Chin-sun approaches him to say that they’ll begin shortly, and Jungkook looks at the growing crowd one last time, that sliver of hope that he’ll see you keeping him going. There are so many moving parts to this entire project, but he knows he’s not alone. After tonight, he can breathe easy and look back at the year that’s passed and know that he put his all into this, and that it turned out to be exactly how he imagined it to be. 
It’s not long after when the program begins. CEO Jeon gives his opening remarks, followed by the Culture Minister, before Jungkook takes the stage. It’s a much longer speech he gives this time, as he wants to make sure that he gets to thoughtfully express his hope and purpose for the Arts Center. He talks briefly about its conception and then delves into the ideas of connection and intimacy, how he wants art to be experienced by people as both spectators and creators, and that he wants this to be a hub for people to create meaning, all while celebrating Korean culture in an environment that reflects the merging of tradition and modernism. 
He keeps his eye contact with the audience, and he sees their warm reception to his words. A video plays to introduce the artists and craftspeople who are featured, and then he ends with thanking everyone who was involved in the process - from the laborers, suppliers, and contractors, to the Board, the investors, and the executive team. He gives a special message to his project team and management support team, asking them to join him on stage because they deserve all the praise for how the Center turned out. 
There’s a resounding applause, and once that’s settled, he finally asks for all the doors to be opened. 
“There are so many things to explore here,” he says. “Please savor every space you enter and take your time. The meaning of art is something only you could define but the beauty is in the experience, and the experience is even more fulfilling when it is shared. Thank you very much and have a good evening.”
He watches the crowd disperse and he releases a breath. The night is far from over and the toughest part for him is just about to start, and that’s going around to see how everything is being received. His mother greets him after, congratulating him again. Hoseok and Ji-woo tell him how proud they are, and his father gives him that assuring nod, with words expressing pride and encouragement accompanying it. 
Jungkook quickly meets the team and gives instructions on how to divide and conquer before he heads to one of the performance halls. He sees Yoongi hanging around and there’s a warm smile on his friend’s face, a rarity because it’s not usually directed at him.
“You’re getting the hang of these speeches,” Yoongi hums. “___ would be proud.”
“Only if she’d heard it,” Jungkook sighs. “I looked around but I didn’t see her. Do you
 do you know if she’s here?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “I haven’t heard from her. I’m sorry.”
Jungkook nods, knowing he’ll slowly have to accept that maybe you’re not ready yet, or that asking you to find him here at a time when there are so many people might have been too much. There’s hope that you’ll give him a call or maybe meet him at another time. He understands what you must’ve felt while you waited for him, and he hates himself for making you go through that. It’s excruciating being on the receiving end of it, and it’s only been a few hours. 
“Let me know if you see her,” Jungkook instructs. “I’ll just be
”
“Around,” Yoongi chuckles. “I will. But your job continues, so go out there and find out what people are saying. I’ll be on the lookout for her.”
Jungkook thanks him and continues visiting the different halls, engaging with the artists and Board members and some other visitors along the way. He searches for your face in every space he enters, exiting them in disappointment when he doesn’t find you there. His heart slowly breaks, and he hangs on for a little longer until he starts to feel too much, with the tiredness from being on the go the entire day getting to him. 
It’s a hard call but he decides to leave. Hoseok assures him that it’s okay; he’s talked to every important person already and that’s enough. People will explore for as long as the Center is open, and he’s got the project and support teams to hold the fort for him. There’s not much else he needs to do anyway; their subsidiary company tasked to manage the operations has already taken over, and Jungkook’s main tasks have been fulfilled. It eases him, knowing that he’s not abandoning anyone by deciding to step out. 
As the hours go by with no sight of you, the heavier he feels. He needs time alone, not just because his battery’s gone out but also to just wallow in the sadness. It’s pitiful but it seems better than constantly hoping he’d see you here while being surrounded by so many people.
He goes to one final area before heading out. It’s the most special one, the one he dedicates to you, the one he hopes you’d one day see and know that he thought of you everyday, even during the days when it didn’t seem like it. He wonders if you’ll like it, if it would remind you of what you grew up with, and if it would be a place for you to feel safe and free and happy in, all the things he’d wished you’d feel with him.
One last look and there’s still no sign of you. He calls Mr. Ri and asks to be dropped off at the office. It seems like a better place to be in when he’s sad and upset. 
The building is empty on a Friday night. Everyone’s either at the Arts Center or gone home and he’s ironically the one craving for the loneliness of this place. He’s committed himself to his job for a decade and doesn’t know much of who he is outside of it. He learned a bit of that in the midst of the biggest change he’s experienced and the most challenging year he’s had, and it was through you. 
He learned that he’s actually quite caring, that there’s a protective side to him, that he steps up and shows up when he’s needed, and that he finds joy and peace in the outdoors. He’s passionate and a perfectionist but he wants to be a bit spontaneous, too. He makes mistakes and can apologize for them. He’s capable of kindness and in some instances, enjoys the company of other people with whom he can observe and laugh with. Being alone often made him feel lonely, and he realized that he’s someone who craves companionship, who wants intimacy, and that he’s someone willing to be vulnerable and share himself with the right person. And while he tends to be impatient most times, with you, he’s willing to wait. And for you, he’ll try to be better.
He enters his office and lets the silence envelope him. The city looks alive from his window but there’s dullness from within. He’ll get over it, he thinks, but until then, that sadness will remain for as long as you’re not in his life, for as long as you’re not next to him.
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You look at yourself in the mirror, the elegance of your rose-colored midi dress a contrast to the stress painted all over your face. You give yourself only a few seconds to admire how you look - there’s a bit of that sexiness from the v-neckline and front slit, and the flutter sleeves and other vintage details lend to a classic look. Your hair isn’t as fixed as you want and your makeup is too pale for your liking, but with time no longer on your side, those are the least of your problems. 
You couldn’t sleep last night despite your mother insisting that you get some rest. The image of Jungkook leaving your house plagued your mind. You should’ve ran after him and told him that you were sorry, that it doesn’t matter anymore if you waited, for as long as he found you. You should’ve stopped him to say that you wanted to be with him, that you were done with running away from what you really wanted, and that you’re willing to always be brave for as long as he held your hand and eased your worries. You should’ve gone back to Seoul with him, but you’d been too overwhelmed to move, to speak, to chase after what you’ve been yearning for. 
Deciding to come to the Arts Center opening wasn’t always certain. You knew you were going to visit one day. You worked hard on it, too, and you wanted to show your support even if Jungkook would never know. But when he asked you to find him there, you knew you had to go right away. You imagined him making that speech that you helped him draft months ago, donned in the gray outfit that Taehyung was proud to make for him. You envisioned the smile he’d have on as he looked around to see all his plans come to life and the visitors taking it all in. 
You just didn’t expect to sleep through your alarm and then miss the train by a minute. The travel wasn’t bad. The chocopies that Jungkook got you kept you satisfied the entire trip, but it was halfway back to Seoul when you realized that you didn’t have anything nice enough to wear. The ones you have are either too formal, too casual, or meant for a night out. 
Taehyung had designed a dress for you but you said it was no longer necessary after you resigned; it was fortunate that he hadn’t started making it yet, and so the guilt wasn’t too much. You didn’t want to go to the opening in just anything. While it mattered to get there, you didn’t want to get any attention, and so dressing appropriately was your plan. Everything else in your closet would make you look underdressed, and you made the quick decision to pass by a store and grab the first nice dress you could find and then head home. 
The clock was ticking, and it didn’t help that you got stuck in traffic on the way to your apartment, and that a vehicular accident at the intersection outside your village forced the cab driver to take a longer route to the Arts Center. Before you knew it, the sun had set, and the program was over, and Jungkook would probably now be in the midst of engaging with so many important people and you don’t want any of the attention that your arrival might bring. 
You finally make it though, and while minutes ago you were stressed and just desperate to make it to the Arts Center, now that you’re here, you’re quite nervous. You’ll face him again after so long, and the fact that happiness would be within reach brings about an unfamiliar feeling. But you also can’t wait to experience it. It’s a kind of joy and contentment you’ve only dreamt about, and you’ll finally know what it’s like.
Exiting the cab, you look around in awe. From this view, you could imagine the sunset framing the main building so beautifully. You enter the lobby and it’s even more spacious than you remember. Perhaps it’s the absence of all the laborers and materials on the floor. Now, it’s just this open space with art pieces placed around. The floor-to-ceiling windows would bring so much light in. It was one of the big changes to the old structure, and with the moonlight shining through, it feels as if there’s a natural spotlight on the art pieces. 
You’re enamored by the grandness of it all. Even more by the many people around, perhaps taking their time in exploring all that the Center has to offer. It’s such a massive space that it’s impossible to absorb everything after one go around, and you already can’t wait to take it all in the next time you visit.
It’s tempting to get lost in it but right now, your priority is finding Jungkook, but as you’re about to head to the second floor, Do-hyun’s whisper-yelling of your name catches your attention. She gives you a tight hug and there’s suddenly an air of sentimentality as the old team is together once again. It was just a year ago when you all took on the biggest project together and after all the highs and lows, it’s finally here. And while you missed out on the final weeks of preparations, they assure you that you’re just as much a part of those as they are. 
“You had to deal with the last minute changes, though,” you insist. “That must’ve been hard.”
“Only at the beginning,” Chin-sun says. “We were barely involved. We just helped with procurement but Mr. Jeon was the one who worked tirelessly on it. He had just two other people help him construct it and I guess that’s why he spent so much time there. But it turned out beautifully, and you wouldn’t have known it was only an addition.”
“Wha-what is it?” You ask, the curiousity taking a front seat for now. 
“It’s—”
“It’s something you need to see for yourself,” a familiar voice says. 
You all turn around and bow at the sight of CEO Jeon. He looks at you and smiles, gesturing towards one of the doors. You excuse yourself from the team and follow the older man, walking next to him in silence. 
“I was worried you weren’t going to come tonight,” he says. “I think that so was Jungkook.”
“I
 I tried to come earlier but there was all this traffic and
 I, uh, how did he do?” You ask. 
“Great, as always,” CEO Jeon answers. “He had everything under control and managed all the socializing impressively. He’s come a long way, hasn’t he?”
“He has,” you smile, recalling the anxiousness that he used to feel at just remembering names and keeping up with people’s energy. 
“He’s come a long way in other aspects, too. Smiling, believing in himself, being kinder to himself
 it’s great to witness,” the older man continues. “And standing by and caring for someone the way he did with you, that was
 that was new, too.”
“I didn’t intend on feeling this way for him, sir,” you say, recalling that the last time you spoke, you weren’t ready to talk about it. “And I tried to suppress it, and that pushed him away but I guess, sometimes we lose people for a reason; we find them again for a reason, too.” It’s a statement that CEO Jeon had told you the last time you talked, and it’s one that stuck with you. “I’m here to find him again.”
“Good. I was hoping you would, so at least I’d know that all this wasn’t in vain,” he chuckles. “And I really do hope you see his heart with this, ___. He takes after me, and I didn’t realize just how much until he came up with this plan.”
You lose him for a bit, suddenly unsure of what he means. CEO Jeon notices, so he gestures towards his right and you follow his lead, and that’s when you see it. Your eyes widen in shock, and you can’t help but gasp at the space before you.
“He’s not always good with words but he tries. And this is how he does it.”
You noted entering the grand library as he spoke. The walls and design were familiar, as you’d gone in here during your last few visits. But this area that you walk into is new. It’s not a large space but it feels like it now. It used to be a section of historical books and archived materials that were put on display, almost like a museum of literary artifacts that a historian had sold off. But it’s nothing like that now.
The glass enclosures have been replaced by shelves and bookcases, all easily accessible and reachable by anyone. The framed walls are no more - instead, there are reading nooks and character murals painted artistically, bringing them to life outside of the books they only lived in. The lights are not blinding; they’re warm and inviting, illuminating a space that makes you want to just sit or even lie in, especially with the large stuffed animals spread across. The chairs aren’t the same, too; there are couches all around, all soft and comfortable, decorated with knitted dolls and colorful pillows. 
You walk further, mouth agape as you take in every inch of the space that brings back so many memories from your childhood. This place is new but familiar. It looks nothing but everything like that neighborhood-run library that your mom used to take you to. Towards the back is a little activity area, with a large, leveled table and a row of shelves filled with coloring books and paper dolls. 
You feel chills as you realize what this place is supposed to be, and who this was meant for. 
You remember the first time you told Jungkook about this. It was after that incident at the restaurant. He took you to a park and told you how the playground was his favorite place, how it made him feel free and safe, how it allowed him to just be himself and imagine doing and being everything he wanted. You shared a piece of your childhood, too, and described that library you frequented, how you felt sad that you didn’t get to say goodbye to it, and that you hadn’t seen a place like that again.
But now you have. That last minute change that he made
 It was this. 
You turn towards CEO Jeon and try to find the words to say but nothing comes out. You’re overwhelmed by what you see, by the memories they elicit, and by all the emotions overtaking you all at once. 
“Jungkook called me one evening and said that he was going to re-do the archive section in the library,” the older man says. “He wasn’t asking for my approval because it was his project, he’d said, but he just wanted to let me know. He made all the decisions and most of the design. He painted the walls and some of the furniture, too. He spent every afternoon here and stayed until the evening. He barely rested. He just
 he just wanted this done. It was so important to him.”
“I
 I told him about a place like this, that I used to go to,” you manage to find your voice now. “He never saw it but it
 it looks like this.”
“Maybe you described it really well,” CEO Jeon smiles. “It’s how he’s always been. Just a few words and then it comes alive in his mind.”
“That’s why this Center is as beautiful as it is,” you hum. “He’s good at that, bringing to life everything that he envisions.”
“It’s his way of saying the things he can’t say, too. It’s something he got from me, I think. I’m not good with words either,” he admits. “So when Byung-hun told me that your mother used to spend her lunch breaks taking you to a library when you were younger, I knew this was Jungkook expressing everything he feels for you.”
“It’s a bit grand, don’t you think?” You say shyly. “Building something for someone is
 so personal, so—”
“Sincere,” he finishes for you. “And intimate, I’d say. But my son, he feels a lot. Which is why I think he tries not to, and why he distances himself from others. He felt like he’d lost you, ___, even before he had you and that
 messed with him. He needed to do this for you, but I think he also needed to do it for himself. If at the end of the day, you’ll no longer be a part of his life, this would remind him that you were.”
You blink away the tears that you quickly wipe off as you look away. If at the end of the day, he’s no longer a part of your life, this would also remind you that he was. But you don’t want that, because you want him in your life, you want every part of him that he’s willing to show, and you want to hold every bit of that in your arms, care for it, and never let it go.
The time you spent with so little of him in your life made you feel his absence, and that allowed you to recognize the pockets of joy you had with him. It gave you something to look forward to, to connect with, and to treasure. The first step was resigning, and that itself felt like freedom. You get to pursue that connection and deep desire by choosing him this time. Knowing yourself means knowing how your heart heals and loves, and you want him to be at the receiving end of that. 
“I
 I need to see him,” you say, not wanting him to spend another minute without knowing how you feel. 
“You should,” CEO Jeon nods and motions towards the door. “I’m sure he’s wondering where you are.”
There’s a soft smile on his face and you mirror it, as if to tell each other that all has been forgiven, that everything has been accepted, that there’s no more blame or burden to carry anymore. 
You rush out, wondering where to start looking for Jungkook. Turning to the left, you see Yoongi, who quickly rushes to you.
“What do you think?” He asks, gesturing towards the library where you’d just come from. “Is it close to the one you used to go to?”
“Yes,” you respond. “Did you help him with it?”
“Kinda had no choice,” he chuckles. “We were working on it while everything else was being completed. He didn’t want anyone else to know, especially you. I didn’t even know why he wanted to build a children's library all of a sudden when it wasn’t in the plans until that night you told me about your childhood. It clicked then.”
“He was already dealing with so much but he still had time for this?” You say, still in shock that Jungkook pushed through with this despite everything.
“He had a lot to say to you but he didn’t know how to. And I guess working on this was a way for him to deal with losing you,” Yoongi answers. “You mean a lot to him, ___. He was a mess without you.”
You think back at the times you felt that he was quickly replacing you, that he was distancing himself, that he was probably upset because you’d messed up his plans, and that he just wanted to move on from you. All this time, he was working on something that he could leave you with, all because he knew how much it meant for you to have a place like this.
“Now I just have to find him,” you say. “Have you seen him?”
“Not in the past half hour. He’s just been going around but I did tell him I’d let him know if you came. You should call him.”
“I wouldn’t be able to say anything if I did,” you sigh, knowing that it’s probably the same reason why he didn’t call you after not finding you in your apartment yesterday. 
There’s too much to say that can’t be said over the phone. You’ll probably be tongue tied once he picks up. 
You decide to call Mr. Ri, the possibility of Jungkook having left swimming in your mind after thinking of how long he would’ve been socializing. It’s been hours since the opening; it’s possible that he’s gotten tired from it all.
“___? Everything okay?”
“Do you know where he is?” You ask, desperate now. “Is he still in—”
“I just dropped him off at the office,” the older man answers. “I don’t know why he wanted to be there but I’m on the way back to the Arts Center. Do you want me to pick you up somewhere?”
“I’m here right now and I just saw what he made. I need to see him.”
“You can wait for me and—”
“It’s okay. I’ll find my way there. Thank you.”
You drop the call and start heading towards the exit, with Yoongi on your tails, offering to drive you.
“You’ve done so much already. And you’re needed here,” you say. “It’s okay.”
“True, I have. It sucked witnessing you two constantly going in circles when you both clearly can’t get enough of each other,” he chuckles. “So go, find him. You can both stop being such idiots now.”
“Rude,” you laugh. “But thank you, Yoongi.”
He smiles, and it’s a sight that’s gotten you through some of the toughest days. He tells you again to leave now, and you rush out as you book a cab, slowly getting impatient as you want nothing more than to be with Jungkook already. 
You get inside the car and watch the city pass you by. So many nights you’d done this, wondering about your life and where it was headed, hoping that one day you’d find the strength within you to go for what you’ve always wanted, whatever it was. A smile paints your face as you do it again now. One day is today, and with another act of bravery, you’re heading towards that other piece of happiness, and you’re finally claiming it for yourself. 
The office isn’t far, and with the traffic having eased despite the hour, you make it to the building in no time. 
You’re suddenly nervous once you enter the lobby. You’re used to late nights but it’s different this time. The security personnel assigned tonight still remembers you, and he doesn’t ask questions when you say you want to head to the VP’s floor. 
It’s a little nostalgic walking down the hallway, even if you were here just last week. It’s knowing that you’ll be seeing Jungkook at the end of it that makes you emotional, your heart beating fast as the seconds tick by. You quietly make it to his room, and with the door opened, you wonder if he expected you to be here.
You stand at the entrance and see him standing by the window, looking out into the city below. His sleeves are rolled up, and he has one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass of whiskey. You spot the bottle on the edge of the table and not far from it, the mess of folders and blueprints piled on the desk. 
“Why are you out here celebrating on your own?” You say, your voice soft despite the yearning you’re feeling. 
He hears you though, as the swirling of his drink stops and he slowly turns around to look at you. He looks tired, but you don’t miss the way his eyes light up. You wish he notices the way yours do, too.
“The Arts Center is beautiful, Jungkook. You should be enjoying it with everyone else.”
“It didn’t feel right without you,” he answers, walking towards his table where he places the glass next to the bottle. “It felt incomplete without you around. You
 you were a big part of that.”
“Why did you leave, then? That’s where you said I’d find you.”
“Is that what your mother said?” 
“It’s what I heard,” you say. He doesn’t look surprised, and maybe a part of you knew that he knew you were there, but still, he asks.
“Why didn’t you see me? Why didn’t you want to talk to me?”
You start to walk closer and see the sadness in his eyes. It brings you back to this room weeks ago, how those same eyes looked at you in dejection, in guilt. You hate hurting him, and you don’t ever want to do that again. 
“I realized that I easily accept it when I’m told that I’m being selfish and that I don’t deserve happiness. But when it comes to someone’s genuine feelings, I cower,” you respond. “Your sincerity scared me and maybe that’s why I doubted it the first time and I’m sorry that I did.” 
Your voice starts to shake now as the emotions intensify with every word you say, and with every inch of distance you eliminate. 
“I’m sorry that I pushed you away, that I left, that I kept my past from you. I’m sorry that I was so scared about everything, especially about the way I felt, only because it was all so new. It was all so much; wanting you became too much, I didn’t know how to stop. But I
” you blink away the tears, not realizing they’ve been waiting to fall. “I realized I was more scared to lose you. I was foolish to think that I could just move on and forget about what I feel for you. I thought it’s what you wanted to do, too, and—”
He shakes his head, and it’s the most reaction you’ve gotten since you started speaking.
“All I’ve done since that night you left me here was think about you,” he says, now able to say what he’s been meaning to. “I didn’t know how to stop that either. Wanting you was no longer enough and I wanted to be with you but I didn’t think I could, not when I thought you didn’t want me. You left and I
 I didn’t know what to do.”
“I knew it’s what I needed,” you admit. “I
 I reached a point where if you asked me to stay, I probably would and I didn’t want to. I wanted to know myself outside of all this and I didn’t want you to be the reason why I’d stop myself from doing that, from searching for whatever would make me happy but I realized that it’s you.”
You take another step, your body aching for him as your heart beats faster. “I felt free but it didn’t feel like I thought it would be. I didn’t want to be here but I wanted to be with you. And I’m sorry it took so long.”
“I didn’t find you right away,” he whispers, as if he still carries that guilt with him. “I was so caught up with everything else, with dealing with the fact that I lost you.”
“The library,” you say. “You were caught up creating something for me.”
“I
 uh, I didn’t know how to say everything that I wanted to say,” he sighs. “And I’ll probably always struggle with that but
 I just thought that as you go about your new life, I could build you a place where you’ll always feel safe and free, and that if I can’t be that person to comfort you, you’ll have a place that can do that. Selfishly, I didn’t want you to forget me. But I also just wanted you to know that I was always going to think about you.”
“Doesn’t it feel a bit grand?” You ask now, inching closer once again as he takes another step forward. “Building a library for someone is a pretty big deal.”
“You would’ve been my biggest what if. I probably deserve something grand to remind me of how stupid I was that I let you go.”
“You’re not gonna do that again, are you?” You teasingly smile. “Because I won’t.”
“No,” he says a little seriously. “I put you through so much, ___. I just
 I just want to be someone who would care for you and would make you happy.”
His words are simple but they carry so much. You suppose at one point, that’s all what’s started to matter. All he wants is to be part of that happiness you’ve been searching for. Maybe it’s what’s been missing in his life, too, and all you want now is to be a part of it.
Another tear falls down your cheek, and you appease the worried look on his face by saying that it’s a happy tear.
He softly smiles, wiping it off with his thumb before cupping your face in his hand. He’s gentle as he caresses you, and you learn everyday just how capable he is of giving warmth, that there’s such tenderness within him that he’s unable to fully show. 
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he admits. “So many times that I’ve seen you cry and I’ve just been
 so powerless to do anything.”
“Now you aren’t,” you breathe out as you eye his lips, knowing they’re what you need at this moment. “Now you can—”
His proximity stops you, as he bends down and closes the distance. His mouth presses against yours, the hint of alcohol intoxicating you a little but it’s the feel of him that makes your mind hazy. With his hand still cupping your cheek, he pulls you towards him, his tongue merely licking your own when he slides inside as if to tease. 
“Do that,” he finishes, pulling away only a little bit to allow you to answer.  
“Yes,” you heave, wanting so much more now that you’ve had a taste of him again. “I won’t stop you this time.”
“Good,” he pants, grazing the tip of his nose on yours. “I don’t plan to.”
You’re unable to take a breath before his mouth crashes against yours, but you don’t mind, not when you immediately lose yourself to the way he feels. The kiss is desperate, with his tongue seeking entrance right away and then entangling with yours. Yet it still feels gentle with how he holds you, as his one hand continues to caress your face while the other glides down your side torso, settling on your hip to pull you closer. 
Your fingers grip his dress shirt, needing that anchor to ground you as you feel yourself drifting, getting lost in what you’re feeling - pure desire, an insatiable need, a sense of relief that there’s finally nothing holding you back. He angles your head, allowing him to go even deeper, and you let him take control, you let him breathe you in, let his tongue explore your depths before he pulls back and nibbles your lower lip. 
But he doesn’t stop just like he said, as he makes his way to your neck. You moan once you feel him lick the shell of your ear, the sound urging him to do more. He finds spots that have you grunting in pleasure, sucking and licking and pressing soft kisses on them, leaving you a pleading mess. You chant his name, grind against him for that friction you badly need, and pull on his shirt, as if wanting that barrier gone. 
“Fuck,” he groans, meeting your hips. “Fuck, you sound good.”
Jungkook feels the shiver of your skin, as his mouth slides up and down your neck while he grabs your  waist. He loses himself in the sounds of your moans - constant and yearning - just as heavenly as he remembers. You’re pliant, moving your head to give him access, letting him explore whatever’s exposed for him to do as he pleases, to taste whatever you can offer right now. 
He pulls you for a kiss once again, and there seems to be more desperation now, as you try to dominate, to taste him, to keep him there. Your hand finds his, guiding it to map your body, to let him know where you want him, to tell him where he can go. He curses under his breath when he feels your breast, fondling it for the brief moment it’s there before you direct it further down. You know exactly what you want and he’ll give it to you. 
The front slit of your dress makes it easy, and when his finger grazes your clothed cunt, you let out a sound that rings in his ear, and he wants more of it. 
“You like that?” He huffs in your ear. “You want me to touch you like that?”
“Ye—yes,” you mumble, unable to say anything more.
Jungkook hears your desire. He feels it, too, but he teases a little, gliding down the wet patch before slowly pressing on your clit. You jerk a little, briefly pulling away from him so you can take in a long breath. You bite your lip and he knows that you’re holding yourself back.
But he wants more and he can tell that so do you. He doesn’t care where you are right now; all he wants is to taste you, to feel you pulsate against his tongue, to make you feel good and let you know what he can give.
He looks down where his fingers have slipped past your underwear then back at you, the lick of his lips his way of seeking permission. You seem to know what he means, and you nod, granting it to him. He pulls you again for a kiss, much rougher this time, before he pushes you against the desk and lifts you so you could sit on the edge, just like that first time. But like you said, you won’t stop him anymore. And he truly doesn’t have an intention to.
His mouth moves down actively, kissing every clothed and exposed part of you it passes while slowly lifting up your dress. He kneels on the floor and spreads your legs open, aching to taste even more of you. But he glances up and sees the anticipation on your face, his mind hypnotized even with just this view alone.
Holding your gaze, he teases, with his tongue merely grazing your throbbing cunt.
You tense up but it’s what gets you pleading.
“Please,” you whimper, the sight of him from below leaving you in a daze. “Jung—want—plea—I—”
You’re unable to form proper words so he finally gives in, pulling your underwear to the side. He grunts, as the sight of your wet lips has his dick getting even harder. Your desire matches his, and all he wants is to fulfill your need.
With the barrier gone, he presses his tongue flatly over your clit, warming it up first before he starts moving around. He alternates fervent licks on it with slow movements everywhere else - on your lips, on the sides of your thighs, and inside your hole. It’s messy and absolutely mind numbing, as your scent and and the way you taste divine have him burying himself even deeper into you, losing himself even more when he feels your hand in his hair, pushing him towards you as if you don’t want him to go anywhere. And he wouldn’t mind. He’d live here if he could.
You start to give in, your legs slowly closing on him but he pushes them apart, keeping them open so he could do more. With his movements, he pulls you closer to the edge - of the table, of your orgasm - and he buries his face there again, licking and sucking and moaning like a man starved. 
The sounds you make drive him crazy, and that's with you still holding back. You’re still in his office, doing something you both definitely shouldn’t, and he supposes you don’t want your obscene sounds to echo throughout the floor despite it being empty. He can’t wait to hear you without anything stopping you. 
You start to shake and that’s how he knows you’re close. He feels your uneven breathing, hears your broken chants of his name, and sees your grip on the table getting tighter. He wants to take you there, and with one final nip of your clit, you crash, the low, long-winded sound satisfying his need to pleasure you.
You try to catch your breath while he laps up your juices. You’re still sensitive, as your legs jerk with every movement of his. He takes a peak and sees your half-lidded eyes and parted mouth, but you eventually return to your senses and meet his gaze. You’ve had enough, it seems, as you pull him up and meet his lips. 
Jungkook tastes of you, and you kiss him languidly, still out of breath and definitely in a daze. You want more of him, though; you want to bury yourself in him and elicit hypnotizing sounds that’ll have him chant your name, too, so you start to palm his hard length in return. But he goes soft on you, taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist before he cups your cheeks again while he returns your kisses.
“This feels quite familiar,” you hum against his lips.
“Really? I don’t remember you pushing my head between your thighs the last time,” he teases.
“Oh, shush,” you frown, quickly realizing exactly what you’d done. “I can’t believe I had you eat me out on your desk. In your office. On a work night, too. And while you have an event going on. Your father will be so angry.”
“Good thing he won’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, clearly unbothered. 
But you aren’t, so you pout at him. “What was I thinking?”
“Maybe you missed me too much, and I can’t blame you, since you know, I did, too,” he reasons, his shy smile turning cheeky in a second. “Or maybe you wanted to leave me with a gift or something,” he smirks. 
“True. When you’re stressed at work you can just remember what you did to me here and then you’ll feel better, I guess.”
“Actually, that’ll probably frustrate me,” he chuckles, pulling you closer again and wrapping his arms around you. “Thinking about how good you sound and how amazing you taste without you around
 Yeah, I’d be angry.”
His praise flusters you, and you briefly turn away. But he assures you again that his father won’t know, and that you’re in the clear despite the indecency you both committed. 
“And it doesn’t matter,” he continues. “That is worth whatever trouble I’ll be in, if it happens. I
 I couldn’t wait any longer. I just wanted you right away.”
The heat rushes to your cheeks again, and you giggle and bury your face in his neck. It’s comforting, the way he giggles back but hugs you tighter. He smells just as you remember, and you think that this is how you want your days to go from now on - flushed against his chest, cradled in his arms, with his soft lips giving you shivers as he kisses your forehead. 
It’s just your joint breaths that you hear now, and you turn to him, your soft smile making his heart skip a beat, and he knows that this is how he wants his days to go from now on - safe in your embrace, with your soft lips tracing his jaw and leaving teasing pecks on his cheeks. He captures them in his, basking in the taste of you, and it’s not long after when the kiss intensifies, leaving him wanting more again.
But just as you return his desire, it’s at that moment when the phone rings, catching both of you off guard and in surprise. He appeases you, as your eyes look at him in worry. He picks up the call, and he hums in confirmation before putting the phone down.
“The building is scheduled for sanitation in half an hour,” he says. “We have to go.”
“Oh right. I remember putting that in our calendars,” you hum, getting off the table and feeling the dampness of your underwear.
You fix your dress, trying to make it less uncomfortable. You turn to him who looks at you shyly.
“Can I take you home with me?” He asks. “Maybe we could, uh, continue this and you know, make up for the time we spent apart?”
“Yes,” you respond, feeling your heart race at the possibilities of tonight. “I’d like that.”
He nods, unable to control his own smile. He motions towards the door and you walk out side-by-side, knowing enough that there are security cameras around. There’s at least that unspoken agreement that neither of you want the attention that could come from having this exposed, whatever this is. But you suppose you have time to figure it out. You’ve both expressed enough that you want each other; you’ll just have to talk about how to move forward and make up for all that’s happened. 
It’s cheeky glances from the elevator down to the car. But once he drives out of the building, he takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. He smiles when you tighten your hold, as if to say that you don’t want to let go of him, too. 
You explain that you woke up late and had to buy a dress that’s why you didn’t get to him earlier. You share how you met the team and then his father, and the anticipation you felt on the way to the office to see him. 
Jungkook narrates how his day went, saying that the interview and press conference were successful, and that he received so much praise from the artists for how the Arts Center turned out. You compliment him, too, saying how everything looks grand but that each individual space feels intimate, personal, and that you can’t wait to explore it further. 
The conversation is a good distraction, as the moment from earlier still has you reeling internally. His taste is addictive, and there’s just so much more of him you want to see, to feel, to immerse yourself in. He seems a bit impatient, too. He’s driving close to the speed limit, perhaps wanting to get to his place as soon as he can to continue what you both started. With everything that’s happened, you wouldn’t mind doing it all night. 
You finally make it to his building, and he constantly pulls you close as you make your way up, with his hand snaking around your waist while you smile at him. But when he opens his door and you enter his penthouse, he keeps his distance, letting you walk through his hallway and into his kitchen as he looks on.
He walks slowly towards you and his heart starts to beat faster, knowing he’s got you alone now, and that there’s no limit to what both of you could do. But though he wants to just take you in his arms, feel you against him again, and kiss you until you both run out of air, he decides to savor this first - the sight of you back in his apartment. 
It’s been so long. And with you looking as beautiful as you do in your pink dress, he wants to ingrain this image of you in his mind - happy and content, with a tender smile that’s already healing the parts of him that once hurt. 
“Your place looks the same as the last time I was here,” you say, looking around.
“Well, I haven’t really been spending time here,” he shrugs. “I was too busy being an idiot and making this children’s library for this girl that I’m really, really into to make up for it. And well, she’s here with me now. I feel like this place is going to start feeling like home.”
“Plants would help. And maybe some personal photos,” you tease, but you reach out your hand that he takes and you pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and grazing your nose against his. “But I’m also here. And I’m not going anywhere, Jungkook. I just happen to really, really be into you, too.”
He laughs, and it’s a sound you once said you want to hear all the time. You think from now on, you will. 
“Good. I’d like to keep you for as long as I can.”
His eyes turn serious and it makes you feel hot all over. It’s hard not to use his playboy lifestyle as a basis for how he’d be, and you can’t help but think just how good he’s going to make you feel. There’s always been so much tension with him that in hindsight, you’ve always tried to quell or overlook, but there’s no need for that anymore. You’ll let your desire take over, release all that lust and yearning until he knows just how much you want him in ways words could never express. 
But just as he closes the distance between you, the doorbell rings, and his groan of frustration makes you laugh. It’s as if the universe is edging both of you with these distractions. 
Jungkook looks at you in apology and agony. “That might be Mr. Ri. Or Lucas,” he says, remembering that they’d said that they’ll drop off some of the gifts he received in celebration of today. If he doesn’t answer, they’ll probably enter on their own, since he’s given them permission to.
So he lets you go and heads towards the door while you scurry to the left towards the hallway. 
You doubt whoever it is would come all the way inside so you don’t really attempt to hide, but you do lean by the wall and listen in. You’re appeased to know it’s Mr. Ri, as you see him enter with several gifts and packages. 
“These are from the artists and the Board. There are art pieces in the cart outside so just bring them in,” he instructs, oblivious to you standing not far away. “They gave you lots of alcohol, too. I thought to bring them here already for whatever reason you might need them.” 
The older man chuckles and finally looks up and sees you.
“And I assume that reason is to celebrate,” he smiles now, and you don’t miss the smug look on his face that makes you feel flustered. “I was just gonna say that ___ was looking for you,” he turns to Jungkook. “Looks like she’s found you.”
“She
 she did,” Jungkook smiles back. 
“Good. It’s about time you kids made up,” he teasingly rolls his eyes. Heavens know how much he had to deal with, with you and Jungkook being such hard-headed idiots.
“We were in the middle of it but then we got disrupted,” Jungkook frowns, to the amusement of the older man.
“Oh, I wonder who did that,” Mr. Ri teases. “I better get going then.”
He sets aside the boxes and turns to both of you. 
“But before I leave, I just
 I just want to congratulate you, Jungkook. The Arts Center is a beautiful piece of artwork. And that
 that last-minute thing you did
 I’m telling you now that it drove your father crazy. But he
 he told me how proud he is of you,” he continues, his look softening as he recalls their recent conversations, including the one just before he drove here. “To do all that for someone you care about, that takes a lot of heart. I think that you, finding it and using it is what he’s happiest about.”
His words are followed by Jungkook’s nod, perhaps in appreciation, and silence, as you’re unsure what else could be said after that. Mr. Ri excuses himself after bringing in the last set of gifts and there’s still that soft smile on his face before he leaves. 
It’s happening, he thinks, and despite all the time it took for you and Jungkook to get here, he supposes it was the only way. It would’ve been easier if he or even Yoongi or Hoseok went ahead and spoke to both of you, perhaps to say it was all a misunderstanding or that there was nothing to be afraid of, not when you both undeniably felt the same way. 
But he also knew that you both had to come to that realization on your own, that life without each other isn’t something neither of you wanted. You also had to make that decision for yourselves - to be vulnerable, to be brave, to take risks, and to find out that it would all be worth it if you’re just honest about how you feel. It seems you’ve both figured it out now, and he can finally feel at ease that two of the most important people in his life can now take care of each other, and that the love he gave helped both of you to get here.
Jungkook leads him out the door then returns to you, and as he walks to where you are, you’re finally able to appreciate how he looks. It’s just like the other times when he had an event to go to - hair slicked back, long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his dress shirt accentuating his toned chest, and the fit of his trousers showing off the rest of his figure. You eye him up and down and he smirks at you in response.
“So
 you exposed yourself, Mr. Jeon,” you say, pulling the neck of his tie to bring him closer to you. “Who taught you how to use your heart like that?”
“Who knew I even had one in the first place?” 
“I did.”
“Not at the start though,” he says, with a hint of guilt in his eyes.
“It was there, you were just hiding it. But I saw it. And I got used to it. Then I couldn’t get enough of it, of you,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And now I just
 I want more of it, Jungkook. I want all of you.”
Having you be so bold about what you want does something to him. It already got him weak in the knees when you directed his hand where you wanted it earlier and when you looked at him to grant permission about having a taste of you. Hearing you say you want all of him causes his mind to short circuit, but he recovers quickly, as he nods and releases a breath before cupping your face in his hands then crashing his mouth into yours again. 
It’s sloppier this time, as you both try to take in as much of each other as you can. Your tongues battle for dominance, you nibble and lick each other’s lips, and you moan with every breath as he’s got you caged against the wall, your hands gripping on his shirt to pull him even closer.
You feel Jungkook’s length hardening as he’s flushed against you, and you grind against him, needing that friction badly. He meets your hips and releases your face from his hold, supporting your back that now arches as you chase him, as he finds purchase on your neck, licking and sucking to elicit the most obscene sounds from you. He kneads your ass while you moan his name and plead for more, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this much pleasure with just this, and you can’t wait for what comes after.
“Please,” you beg, as you feel your cunt throb in pain.  
Jungkook doesn’t need you to say anything else, as he has the same desire to feel your body. There’s so much he wants to do to you, so much more he wants to touch and feel. He wants to know how else you sound like, what makes you lose your breath, what makes you quiver and shake. He wants to know how else his mouth could make you come and how his fingers can drive you wild. He wants to know how your mouth feels wrapped around his cock, how much of him you can take, and how it’s like to be buried deep inside your warm walls as your essence coats him. 
He wants you right now, so he heads towards the closest room, guiding you backwards as he unzips your dress and removes your bra. His hands immediately map your bare body, feeling the shiver in your skin with every movement. You whimper when he fondles your breast, and the thought of you being sensitive to his touch makes him even harder.
The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he guides you to lie down. He trails downward, nibbling as he goes and memorizing your body this way. His mouth reaches your waist, and from here, he finds himself intoxicated from your scent. He slowly removes your soaked underwear and the sight of your went cunt makes him throb in pain.
You’re so fucking beautiful, he thinks to himself. He can’t believe he waited so long to have you like this.
He thumbs your clit, and your continuous moans and calls of his name make him give in. He stands up and smirks at you and, taking your hand, he replaces his fingers with yours, his eyes ordering you to touch yourself.
You follow, and though it doesn’t feel as good as how he does it, the pleasure hits differently when you watch him loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. All those months of doing your morning routine comes back to you - now you get to see all that’s underneath the clothes you prepare, and when he pulls down his trousers, your mouth drops the same time it does. He’s thick and veiny, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. 
His eyes are on your sopping cunt while yours are on his fingers as they stroke his length, getting himself ready for you. He opens the drawer and pulls out a condom, and while there’s the tiniest bit of disappointment, you don’t mind. It’s something you’ll eventually talk about. Right now, you just want him inside of you and you call out for him another time, prompting him to smirk once again and walk towards you.
He replaces your hand with his fingers this time, and when he returns to touching you, he climbs on the bed and hovers over you, lowering himself for a searing kiss.
“Good girl,” he hums against your lips.
You lose it, as if you hadn’t lost yourself already, but his deep voice and the way he grunts against your skin do something to you. You feel his cock not long after, and no amount of yearning for him could prepare you for how good he feels. He fills you up just right, and the gradual way he enters you while his eyes bore into yours has your stomach in knots and your heart beating out of your chest. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he mouths as he goes deeper. “Fuck, baby, you feel so, so good.”
He hits the edge and he settles for a while, letting you get used to the feel of him, but when you start to grind against him, he decides to do the same.  
He moves his hips, pushing then pulling out then pushing harder. He raises himself and intently watches your face distort in pleasure - your breath hitching, your lips parting, your eyes half-lidded as you moan his name, as if it’s the only word you’ll remember after all this. He starts to increase the pace, loving the way your breasts bounce in response. Then he slows down, only so he could capture one of them in his mouth to suck and the other, in his hand to touch. 
The feeling of ecstasy overtakes you. He doesn’t go rough all the way, as you initially expected he would. Instead, he paces himself, going fast for a period of time and then slowing down to let both of you bask in the feel of each other. He doesn’t seem to want either of you to come right away, you can tell, by the way he moves and the way he looks at you - with a kind of longing and desire that feels so intimate.
He gets back on his knees after and spreads your legs, giving him more space to pound into you, and with his hands gripping your hips, he pulls it towards him to meet his. You feel him deeper inside, and it has you holding onto your breasts, pleasuring yourself there, too, as he starts fondling your clit once again. 
You’re feeling everything everywhere, and your mind starts to go hazy when he lifts your leg and places it over his shoulder, allowing him to enter you from an angle that has you mewling in intense pleasure. You feel your eyes rolling out, but somehow they land on him, and the way his head tilts back while he grunts in pleasure as he caresses your thigh is a sight that you want to keep seeing. That image of his clenched jaw and strained neck will be ingrained in your mind from now on.
You continue with this pace for a while until he lowers himself and kisses you, hard and deep the same way he thrusts into your hole. With his chest flushed against yours, his mouth sucking and licking your neck, and his hand flicking your pert nipples, you come, the deep inhale and the exhale of moans echoing inside the bedroom. 
Jungkook feels your essence despite the barrier, and it’s a kind of euphoria that pushes him to reach his peak. He hovers over you again, pinning your hands to your side for that anchor he needs. He meets your tongue with his, and then he pounds hard, wanting that high as you come down from yours. But you don’t hold back, as you meet his hips and curse and tell him how good he feels 
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you seethe. “You fuck me so good. Fuck, fuck, yes. Keep going, please baby. Keep going.”
Your words push him over the edge, and he crashes before he knows it. He grunts as he catches a breath, a way to express the intense pleasure he just experienced. But he sees you still panting. You may have already come but another one won’t hurt, so he nibbles on your breasts again, knowing it won’t take long. You’re already close, and with a few more flicks of his fingers on your clit, he feels you quiver again. 
“Come for me again, baby,” he mumbles. “I wanna hear your pretty sounds again.”
It doesn’t take long. There’s a tone of your moan that lets him know you’ve reached your peak, and he keeps that in mind for everyday that he plans on doing this to you.
You catch your breath, feeling as if you’re in a daze with what you just experienced. As you come down again, you meet his eyes. They were intense and lustful earlier but they’re soft now, just as his smile is. There’s contentment on his face and adoration. He kisses your lips, and that’s soft, too, before he turns to your side and lies on his back. 
Jungkook feels the exhilaration from that ride with you, and he definitely wants to do it again. But he knows he’ll have to recover. He turns to you and thinks that you’ll need some time, too, but he can’t help himself. He presses soft kisses on your torso, up until he reaches your cheek, and that causes you to smile.
He finally stands up and tells you he’ll clean up, and you nod, somehow needing a moment alone to wrap your mind around what just happened. 
It’s different, you think, when sex is with someone you actually feel really strongly for. All the ones before don’t compare. Sure, you were attracted to the men you dated, but they never made you feel anything close to this. Perhaps it’s Jungkook, but maybe it’s also you - for the first time, you’re giving more than just your time and your energy. For the first time, you’re giving your heart, too. All of it.
The thought makes you giddy. It also makes you shy because it all feels new. And it suddenly makes you hyper aware of where you are. 
You look around. This is a new room. Other than Jungkook’s bedroom, you’ve only been to his study; this door was always closed and you never had a reason to see what’s behind it. You know he doesn’t really have people over but you assume an extra bedroom is always good to have.
You start to feel cold without Jungkook’s warmth, so you shift on the end and pull the covers, burying yourself under it. You don’t remember where your dress is, and you’re suddenly too shy to just head out the room and get it. It’s at the same time that Jungkook exits the bathroom with his boxers on, and even that has you feeling all kinds of things. 
“Hey,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you cold?”
“A bit,” you respond.
He looks around and spots his dress shirt on the foot of the bed. He takes it and pulls away the blanket so he can make you wear it. He buttons it and fixes your hair, parting the damp strands and tucking them behind your ear. He helps you stand then you scurry towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. 
You don’t take long as you don’t want to make him wait, and when you open the door, you see him with his trousers back on, fixing the bed. On top of it are your folded dress and underwear. Between that and the shirt you’re wearing, something inside you stirs as you’re reminded again of how thoughtful Jungkook is. You like him for so many reasons, and now that you get to be with him like this, you’ll get to know him even more.
You don’t realize you’re staring at him as he moves about until he starts walking towards you. 
“I’ll get your clothes dry cleaned. Is that okay?”
You nod, giddy again and unable to speak. 
“I was also, uh, thinking. Do you want to spend the night with me? And maybe the one after, too?” He asks.
“I’d like that,” you smile. 
“Good,” he smiles back, kissing you deeply. “I was really hoping we get to do more of that.”
You laugh in response even if deep inside, you’re screaming in excitement. You’re still overwhelmed by all this, but you know that spending the evening and then waking up next to him will let you ease into this new life that you have. 
He laughs, too, when your stomach grumbles, and you realize you haven’t eaten anything since you left your mother’s house, and that was almost 12 hours ago.
“I actually don’t have anything in my fridge so let’s just order out.”
You nod, and shortly after, you find yourself sitting on the couch with him, your legs laying over his lap while his fingers caress your thigh. He’s got his arm around you and you sit there, just talking, while you wait for your dinner to arrive. 
You stay on the dining table when it does, and you remain there after you’ve both wiped out all the food. You both clean up, liking the domesticity that feels more real now, even more when he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom. 
“I don’t have any makeup remover or anything like that,” he says from inside his bathroom. “Just cleanser. Is that okay?”
“Uh, yeah, that should be fine,” you say, following him inside. 
He places some skincare items on the counter and says that he’ll buy your brand this weekend. He grabs a towel and places it on the stool next to the shower before he turns to you. 
There’s a look of desire in your eyes, and though he’d initially thought that maybe you’d want to wash up on your own, the way you’re biting your lips makes him think that maybe you don’t.
He walks towards you and, with his fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt you have on, he looks at you in question as a way to seek permission. You nod, and it’s his confirmation. There’s something about you speaking to him with your eyes that has him nervous, but every approval you give stirs something in him. There’s your shyness but there’s also that desire to have him close.
He undoes the shirt, and though he’s already seen your bare body earlier, it still takes his breath away, as if it’s the first time he’s being graced with this, only because he’s been craving it for weeks.
Not much is said when he undresses after you, but you don’t really need words. Right as he turns on the warm shower, your lips are already on his. It’s sensual this time, as you both seem to want to savor this now that you have more time to spare. There’s still so much he wants to know and to feel, and he supposes there’ll be more days to learn all that. 
But then again, that could also be today, as you kneel on the floor and take his hardening dick in your mouth. You’re just as heavenly as he imagined, even more when you let him come on your chest and he’s dazed with how turned on you look. He finishes you off with you caged against the wall, your breasts in his mouth and his fingers inside your hole. It’s more languid kisses once you decide to actually take a shower, and going slow as you caress each other’s bodies is another feeling that he wants to keep having.
He gives you one of his shirts to wear before you both head to his bed. It’s past midnight and the day has started to catch up to him. He’s been tired since midday, and he would’ve crashed on his couch after finishing a bottle of whiskey if you hadn’t come. 
But you did, and the past few hours have been nothing short of amazing, as if it’s a dream he doesn’t believe is really happening. You lay next to his side, looking warm and comfortable with the softest smile on your face, a contrast to how you looked when you took him so deep in your mouth and moaned curses while you pulled on his hair as you came on his fingers. 
“What are you thinking about?” You ask him.
“A lot of things. Also nothing,” he says. “So much has happened today and I just
 I just wanna sleep but I also want to stay awake with you a bit longer.”
“We’ll have more time together though,” you assure him. “We can talk about them tomorrow.”
He hums, knowing that his weekends from now on will no longer be boring like they used to be. 
“What about you, what are you thinking about?” 
“That your bed is so soft and your pillows smell so nice,” you respond, earning you a laugh. “Better than the one earlier. Although come to think of it, I didn’t even know you had a guest room.”
“It’s, well, uh
 I wouldn’t really call it a guest room. I don’t really make people sleep there. Unless, they, uh, stay the night even if I told them not to.”
With his embarrassed face, the thought dawns on you. 
“You have a room specifically for your hookups?” You gasp. “You fucked me in your hookup room!”
You don’t seem angry but still, he supposes it doesn’t sound good when you say it like that.
“That
 that was the closest room with something to lie on and I just wanted you so badly,” he explains, truly looking like he feels bad about it. “I only have that because I don’t let people in my room and well, you’re here now, aren’t you? I don’t like people being inside my space but you
 I want you here. I’m sorry.”
He looks at you with apologetic eyes and you suddenly feel bad for reacting the way you did. It’s not a big deal. Maybe it isn’t ideal when you look back on it but then again, he fucked you so good, it doesn’t really matter. It also doesn’t matter where he does it. But maybe claiming other parts of his penthouse isn’t so bad.
“It’s okay, you made up for it,” you say, kissing his pouty lips to let him know it’s fine. 
There’s really nothing you can complain about, not when you’re next to him and feeling the safety and warmth of being by his side. There’s that comfort of being able to say and do what you want to, including expressing your desire without holding back anymore. That itself feels like freedom, and you get to live that out with him.
“We should probably skip that room for next time,” you add. “I mean, you have a nice bathtub and a spacious closet and a large couch and a wide dining table.., you have a study, a gym
” you smirk, something he does, too. “We have so many options.”
“We do,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you now. “We also have my bed, in case you forgot.”
“I was just about to say,” you giggle, sitting up and motioning for him to lie on his back. His smile is replaced with a lustful look once you start grinding against his clothed dick. “So, uhm, shall we?”
He grabs your hips and aids your movements, immediately feeling pleasure that he fortunately isn’t too tired to build on. He sits up and catches your lips in his. 
“I can do this all night,” he whispers.
And with languid kisses and curious hands mapping each other’s bodies, you feel the beginnings of learning what your heart could do. Right now, it’s racing, as it feels the desire to be one with him, to share in intimacy and vulnerability as you bare parts of yourself to him with no reservations. 
You know that starting today, there’ll be more that your heart will learn to do, like understand and forgive. One day, it will heal. And as it soars and finds a home in Jungkook’s arms, you know that one day, it will learn how to love, too.
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selarina · 1 year ago
Text
continuation to this
so, that night gojo satoru leaves with no jacket and half a broken heart and for the first time since he was 12 years old, he takes a sip of alcohol as he slouches against his home bar.
it's bitter, and it tastes a bit too much like soy sauce for his liking but he sips and sips until he sees the engraved "S.G" inscription at the bottom of his glass.
"hello, husband," a voice comes from behind him, interrupting his sob fest.
and for a moment, for dumb little moment, he thinks it's you. the voice sounds nothing like you though, it's far too high-pitched, but he's dreamt of this far too much for him to imagine someone else calling him husband.
aya tsukino materialises next to him, and seats herself on a seat beside him. she moves with a certain a quiet sleekness that he barely caught her moving from behind him. or maybe, he's finally out of it. "excited for the wedding, then?" she deadpans as she pours herself a drink.
"thrilled," he parrots back, merely a barren echo of emotions.
there's more truth in this room than there's been in your shared room for weeks. because it's simple really— gojo doesn't want to marry her, and aya couldn't care less as long as she got the money his family had.
before they had even exchanged any words, it was clear that they had this silent agreement that the two of them had little to do with love and everything to do with societal expectations and status.
as gojo attempts to take another sip from his empty company, he can't help but replay the events of the evening in his mind. your anger, and the way you stood up for the love you believed in. it'll haunt him for the rest of his life.
he wonders if you'll genuinely come to understand that he did have you in mind when he left you. he doesn't want you to be a mistress, a dirty little secret. he's seen how it broke his mother apart. how could he wish the same fate upon you knowing how his mother's life ended?
you're strong, and he believes you will persist and he will see at the end of his life sleeping grey and old in his bed as he stares at the way the sunlight hits your laugh lines.
but he also remembers the way you cried in secret. he never brought it up, he never brings it up. he was just waiting for the day you'd be comfortable enough to cry in front of him but for now, he settles for meaningless presents he brings afterwards to wipe off the blue from your face.
he places his glass down with a clink, and he hears a resembling clink from aya. "i'll ask you this only once, gojo satoru," she speaks up. "do you want this marriage?"
"i never wanted this marriage," his reply is immediate.
"of course not," she says. "i meant, do you still want to go through with this?"
he doesn't respond. the both of them know the answer to that, it's written all too clearly on his soppy little face.
"what if i don't," he finally speaks. "what about your money? your status?"
"my money..." she feigns to ponder. "as someone who's always sought out money, i can tell you one thing about it. money, it comes and it goes. i'll find another way as i always do," she says. "i will be fine."
"your father—"
"—is a terrible man, who will go on his pissy campaign against me but i hope it's not presumptuous of me to expect you to come to defence when needed. you know, for all the trouble?"
he chuckles with no mirth. seems trouble is all he's capable of causing the past few days. "of course," he responds.
aya smiles, she supposes there's one benefit of having the strongest sorcerer as her ex-fiancé. she stands up, as she pulls her coat snug against her body as she prepares to leave. "besides, you're not the only rich high-status man in town, you know?"
"well, they're not all me," he replies. his smug demeanour returning to him like it's breathing a new life into him.
"wow, a bonus too," she chuckles.
"and who was that handsome man with you on friday? blonde, glasses, chiselled like a—"
"nanami kento," he replies with a grin.
"nanami kento. is he rich?"
"not as rich as you," he replies. it's true. he's rich, he worked on wall street after all and nanami is a smart man, he has so much in his savings account, it's enough to feed an entire nuclear family. why he saves up is something that's beyond gojo.
"well, he's handsome. tell mr. kento i said hello," she smiles facetiously.
"tsk, fine." he grins again. "get out of here."
-
it's been a week since you heard about the wedding falling apart. and since, you've been hearing about it daily, almost hourly if you're being honest. after all, you're at the centre of it. it only makes sense.
there's a whole slew of narratives running around, cheating, money laundering, even murder. but the most popular one was about how aya was the rosaline to your romeo and juliet. gojo's as romeo as he comes — handsome, influential and maybe a bit endearingly dumb but you fail to see how you're juliet. she was rich, influential, beautiful — everything you've been starkly reminded that you are not.
but everyone's talking about the romance of it all and you haven't heard from gojo himself so it's strange to take their words to mind or heart. you ignore them, forming a ready-made response sheet in your head to every possible question you encounter across the week. they become white noise, as you go through your day like a pre-programmed robot.
but that changes on a hot, dusty afternoon as you're sitting in a cafe, awaiting a man you were advised against seeing, and he's late. of course, he's fucking late. he broke up with you and he has the audac—
he walks in. he looks exhausted, lankier than usual, and there's a cruel part of you that likes it. to know he looks as miserable as you've been seeing. there's the other, familiar part of you that wants to run your fingers against his sensitive eyes as you feed him with the warmth of the diner's food.
but you do neither, you neither smile nor frown. you sit in place as you wait for him to come and sit opposite you.
"hey," his voice sounds gravelly. "i'm sorry i'm late."
"nothing i'm not used to," you reply with a glare as you cross your arms.
his hands reach for the menu as he plays with the edges of the paper. he always orders the same breakfast meal from this place. he must be nervous.
"i... i wanted to talk to you," he starts. "i want you back."
"excuse me? you can't just—"
"i'm willing to do anything. anything. if you want to take it slow, i understand. if you want to take your time, i understand. if you want me to get down on my knees and beg, i understa—"
"do it."
his eyes widen, you can tell — even though the black glasses are blocking his eyes, you can tell. it only lasts for a split second, because you blink with contempt and he's beside you. on his knees, as he stares up at you. he barely stares up at you — he's so tall, he's almost eye-to-eye with you. but even so he hunches his back, makes himself small.
"i'm sorry," he says again, as he takes off his glasses placing it onto the table in front of you. his eyes are alarmingly blood-red, and it takes every muscle in your body to hold back from running your fingers over his. "like i said, i'll do anything. just pleas— take me back."
you stare, and he stares back at you. you're too lost in the way he looks at you — at your mercy — that you miss the strange and baffled looks from people around you. and when you finally do, your cheeks flush with heat.
"okay," you say. " please, get up now."
"no, let me— let me stay," he says. pleads. "just let me stay until you take me back."
"fine," you sigh, as if there was any real objection from your side. "get up now."
"really?" his blood-red eyes gleam, you could almost see a tinge of the vibrant blue coming back to life.
"yes," you groan as your hand grip his elbow. "i was willing to be your fucking mistress. did you really thin— i would say— mmpph"
and just like that he's up, sliding next to you on your seat, as he kisses you. you're ashamed to admit that your first thought was the idea of getting kicked out for public indecency but your second thought was about how you think you could stay like this forever. despite the public gawking at you through mean and baffled stares.
"i'm serious about doing whatever it takes," he says, sincerity laced in his voice. "you shouldn't let me get away with this lightly."
you smile. "I hope you mean it," you reply. "and i won't. i’ll make you work for it, just a little."
he nods with a smile, "anything. i'll make it up to you."
"you have to do the chicken dance," you say, seriously and firmly.
"what?"
"you have to do the chicken dance. right now in the middle of the diner and i'm taking a video," you pull out your phone. "and... i'm sending it to nobara."
his eyes widen, almost like he's feeling actual fear. "not nobara," he gasps. "but she's so mean, baby."
"well, you said anything."
he sighs. gojo looks around the crowded diner, his tall frame rigid and tense. he glances at you, then at your phone, and finally resigns himself to the absurd request.
"fine," he mutters, standing up from the seat as he begins flapping his arms and doing a clumsy version of the chicken dance in the middle of the diner.
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tricksters-captain · 1 month ago
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Declan O'Hara imagine - I'm not doing this.
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A/N: I thought about this one shot weeks ago... finally writing it. Probably been done already by someone else but who isn't obsessed with rivals atm. I also haven't written in years.
Summary: Declan is fighting against himself and everything he believes in when you come into the picture.
Warnings: Age Gap, fem!reader, NSFW content 18+, strong language, bit of a slow burn.
"Taggie, honestly, I don't know why you'd ever willingly add Brussel sprouts to anything." You chuckled as you both crept through the door to the kitchen.
"They're good for you!" Taggie tried to defend her culinary choices for her Sunday lunch.
"If they're good for you then I always want to be bad."
"Who's being bad?" A thick Irish accent filled the room as Taggie's dad sauntered in, a mug of coffee in one hand with his other burrowed deeply into his trouser pocket.
"Dad, this is (Y/N). (Y/N) was just objecting to my sprouts."
"Oh yeah, I agree, terrible things. Even the dog won't eat 'em" Declan brought his mug to his lips, smirking through the thick moustache that hid his upper lip.
You felt your insides alight at his dark, playful expression as he teased Taggie.
That was the first time you knew you were a bad friend. A bad friend who wanted your new friend's father to lift you onto the kitchen table and bury his head between your thighs.
The thought made your cheeks burn red as you laughed at Declan's remark and Taggie's complaints against him.
The man left the kitchen when his eyes flitted back to you, sending you a nod and a 'lovely to meet you, (Y/N). '
You couldn't help but replay the way he said your name in your head over and over and over again until you were desperate for his voice to sing it again.
The next time you saw Declan O'Hara was at the O'Hara New Years Eve party.
"You better not spend the whole time in here. I'd actually like you to put a dress on and come out to dance at some point tonight." You pleaded with Taggie as she clasped your necklace for you.
"I'll try but I can't make any promises. Anyway, you're out there to be my eyes and ears. You need to tell me if anyone complains about the food, okay?"
"Yes, Taggie. But no one will because you are amazing and your food is amazing and you are so right for not letting me help you cook or serve after I burnt the soup last time." You faced her as she continued to prep the ingredients she would need for the feast she had planned.
"You are a great friend but you are a terrible cook." Taggie agreed. You felt a lump in your throat at the words. Were you a great friend for literally fantasising over her father after almost every time you had an interaction with him? "Now please go next door and make sure that all the tables have the right cutlery for me?"
"Anything for you, Agatha!" You headed to do as you were told. Looking down to smooth out your dress when you felt yourself collide with something solid.
"I'm so sorry!" You looked up to see Declan turning, laughing softly at your clumsiness.
"It's okay, love." Declan's own eyes fell down your body, his lips parting slightly as he took in the sight of you all dressed up. He knew you were an attractive girl but you were Taggie's age and one of her only friends in the surrounding neighbours beside Lizzie. "You look beautiful."
The sincerity in his voice caused a chill to roll up your spine.
"Thanks. You look very handsome too, Mr. O'Hara." You didn't know why you felt so shy around him. You were so used to owning your space and holding your confidence when you fancied someone.
"That's very kind, (Y/N). And it's Declan. I don't want to tell you again." Declan send you a wink as he started to pass you. "Hey, and no snogging my son at midnight. You're way too good for him."
Your heart squeezed at the taunt. Patrick was a gorgeous boy and he had tried to flirt with you when he met you but you were far too interested in Declan for Patrick to make any dent in your crush.
"He's not my type anyway." You managed to find your tongue to quip back an answer.
"Good girl."
Good Girl.
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself replying something entirely inappropriate in response.
As the night went on, you felt your heart drop more and more. Declan was obsessed with his wife. His wife was obsessed with anyone else.
You were desperate to try and make more conversation with the man but almost everyone was grabbing his attention to discuss some work matter or other.
As the countdown began, you gut wrenchingly watched as Maud and Declan kiss. You put on a smile and exchanged celebrations with those around you. Giving Lizzie a kiss on the cheek as her husband blanked her as he usually did.
"Happy New Year, chicken." Lizzie pressed on a faux smile as you did.
"Happy New Year, Lizzie."
"A little advice for your new years resolution if I may?" Lizzie whispered as she drew you closer.
"You may want to get better at hiding your admiration for Taggie's father. I know nothing hurts more than something you can't have." Lizzie's words took you back, you felt your cheeks burning red and your smile drop.
"Oh, Lizzie, I'm mortified! Please don't tell Taggie." You begged.
"Not a peep." Lizzie motioned locking her lips with a key before grabbing your hands to singing sway along with the room.
The night went on and Lizzie tried to encourage you to join in festivities. You drank more and more, being forced away whenever you tried to help Taggie wash up, and you soon found yourself needing some quiet time.
You let yourself into Declan's office, leaning against the desk, fingers gripping the underside to give you some stability when the room started to ever so slightly spin.
You closed your eyes. Inhaling a shaky breath when you heard the door creek open.
"I thought someone unwanted had decided to sneak through my things." Declan's melodic accent forced your eyes open.
"I'm wanted, am I?" You smirked slightly, through the sickness as your eyelids closed again.
Declan didn't respond. Instead he just studied you from across the room. His hands in his pockets, his stance leaning back just ever so slightly.
"You struggling there?" Declan was amused at your state.
You tried to push yourself off the desk but instead felt yourself stumble forward.
Declan's amusement quickly turned into concern as he stepped forward to catch you.
"Steady on." Declan had managed to stop you from hitting the floor, your face pressed against his chest, his strong arms engulfing you as he pulled you up towards him.
"I'm so sorry..." You mumbled as you leant away to look up at him.
His features were so strong up close. You could smell the whisky on his breath as your eyes lingered on his lips.
"Maybe we should get you some water and put you to bed."
Declan's words drew your eyes to his own. His chest seemed to go tight as he starred down into your glassy (Y/E/C) eyes.
"You can take me to bed any time you want, Mr O'Hara." Your words slurred together with your weak attempt of drunkenly flirting.
"It's Declan."
"Okay, Declan..."
That was the first time Declan had heard you say his name. Something inside him knew he wanted to hear you say it again but he fought against the thought, pulling away from you as you gained your stance.
"Let's hope you don't remember this in the morning, ay?" Declan tried to make light, convincing himself the electric feeling he had was nothing.
"Why? I finally got my chance in your arms. My dream come true."
"Yeah, you really won't want to remember this in the morning. Come on..." Declan opened the door, waiting for you to follow suite. The noise of the party echoed around you; you had almost forgot it was still going on outside.
"Have you ever thought about me?" You had no idea where this liquid confidence had stirred from.
There was a pause before he answered.
"No." He was lying. He knew he was lying. He watched the disappoint subtly encase your eyes as you pursed your lips into a thin smile.
"If I was dreaming, you would've said yes. Goodnight, Mr O'Hara."
"Goodnight, (Y/n)."
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As the weeks went on, rivals became friends. Friends became rivals. You grew closer to the O'Hara family and the moment from NYE had simply been forgotten. Or so you thought...
The dread that had filled your gut that New Years Day after you remembered the incident brewed inside of you for weeks. You had successfully avoided Declan, only seeing him in group scenarios and meetings for Venturer.
"(Y/N), I left some of my flyers on the table in the living room if you want to use them." Taggie climbed into her car, shouting over at you as she rushed off. You both had been going door to door for Venturer in different areas to cover more ground but you had run out of flyers to hand out.
"Thanks, Tag!" You rushed inside, running through the house that still held a cool air inside despite the early summer warmth outside.
"Careful!" You heard a voice proclaim as your bodies hit.
Within the blink of an eye, you had hit the floor with a body on top of you.
"Are you alright?" Declan groaned as you winced underneath his weight. The hard floor sent a wave of pain through your back but you had managed to not hit your head.
"Ow." You grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Did you hit your head?" Declan propped himself up on his arms, examining your face with a furrowed brow of worry.
"No." Was all you managed to say.
"I thought we had left bumping into each other for last year." Declan recalled on when you knocked into him last New Years Eve before the party had started.
"Clearly I'm not very good at keeping to New Year's resolutions."
Declan chuckled, pushing himself up before offering his hand.
You felt the warmth of his body leave you and the coldness of the floor pierce your bones.
You took his hand; hauling yourself to your feet.
"You sure you're okay?" Declan insisted. His hand reached out to take grip of your waist, his thumb and finger burning against your skin that had been revealed by the edge of your venturer top riding up. His other finger waved past your eyes, checking for concussion.
"I'm fine. No more running in the house with blind corners." You took a step back from the man, straightening your shirt to try and control the lingering feeling of the mans hand on you.
"Now... are we okay?" Declan rephrased,
"What do you mean?"
"(Y/N), don't play stupid. You've avoided me for almost half a year now. You won't even walk around the house without Caitlin or Taggie next to you."
You didn't think that Declan would've noticed with how busy he was with work and his life. Why would he have cared where you were or what you were doing in the house?
"I'm still living down my behaviour at New Years." You reluctantly admitted.
"What, that? Everyone says stuff they shouldn't when they've had a few too many. Doesn't mean you have to never look me in the eye again."
"What I said was completely inappropriate."
"Yes, it was. You're the same age as my daughter and I'm a married man but I'll have to admit I'm a little flattered." Declan tried his best to ease your anxiety. "I don't exactly see myself a teenage heart throb."
"I'm not a teenager." You bit back, the harshness your voice surprising you both.
"There's not much difference. You're practically a child and should be going for someone your own age." Declan quit the joking tone he had been using, taken back by your defence.
"Don't call me a child. I'm not the same age as Caitlin. I am older than Taggie and I've been with men before so I'm not playing silly little girl games over here. This isn't some school girl crush on a handsome teacher. You're right my feelings for you are inappropriate because you're a married man and I'm friends with your daughter but not because of my age. I know who I am and what I feel." A fire lit up your chest as you finally had broken out of the timidness you hated.
"You have no idea what you're talking about." Declan took a step closer to you, his stare burning into you as he lowered his voice.
"You're the one who reads people. Tell me what you see in me." You matched him, standing so close to him you could feel his breath on your face as you gritted your teeth.
The air was thick. The silence of the house engulfing you both, your breath audible and quick. You thought you could almost hear your heart thudding against your chest.
Declan was the one to break away. Storming to his office with a hard slam of the door.
How did your conversation turn so heated?
That night Declan tossed and turned, his head filled with moments of you. He rolled over and gently woke up his wife with soft strokes on her shoulder blades.
"What?" Maud hummed, rolling her head over her shoulder to Declan.
"I'm awake." Declan pressed himself against his wife.
"I can feel that." Maud looked at him through a sleepy gaze.
"Let me touch you." His fingers glided over her skin until he reached the space between her legs. Maud moaned quietly as Declan began to part her folds with his finger.
"Declan..." Maud sighed as she pressed her backside into him, feeling his member hard against her.
Declan wasted no time in entering her. He closed his eyes as his dick pressed inside his wife. And all he could see through the darkness was your eyes looking up at his. The first time he had seen you in the kitchen. The bump in the hall, the incident in his study, every time he had caught you intensely listening to one of his speeches to the group, the crash against the floor. You underneath him. The tiny bit of skin his hand had managed to caress from the bottom of your shirt.
He had never thought of you before. Not with Maud, not with his own hand and imagination and he couldn't make sense of why that night he finished almost as fast as his inexperienced teenage self had once before.
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It had been Declan's turn to avoid you from that day. He couldn't be too close to you without feeling his throat go dry, a sickening guilt and twisting conflict rising with it.
It was the evening you'd find out whether Venturer was a real contender against Corrinium.
The O'Hara house was filled with people eagerly waiting except one who had decided to leave the house for good.
The house erupted in cheers and celebrations as the phone call confirmed it for you all.
You watched through the window as Maud drove off, leaving Declan and Taggie behind.
"We did it!" Taggie squeezed you tightly before embracing her father and to your surprise, Declan had also pulled you into a tight hug. You had hoped no one picked up on the slight awkwardness that left the embrace when Declan moved onto join the others. You couldn't help but feel it.
The party went on and you tried to keep an eye on Declan without making it too obvious (like Rupert and Taggie had failed to).
When Rupert left Declan's side for another whiskey, (Taggie swiftly disappearing just after), Declan slipped away to his study. You followed.
"I'm sorry about Maud." You made your presence known as you watched him place his glass down on the desk, his back to you when he replied.
"Don't."
"Fine." You clenched your jaw, unsure of what to say next at the warning in his tone.
"What do you want from me?" Declan's voice had a hint of desperation. He turned to face you. You had seen this look before.
"I don't––"
"––No 'cause you followed me in here. You are everywhere I look. I can't even get a wink of sleep most nights without dreaming of two things. You or beating Tony fucking Baddingham. And I can't think of you because you're young enough to be my daughter and I'm a fucking hypocrite for telling Rupert to stay away from Taggie when I look at you in that dress and wonder what you would look like with it on this floor right now. I'm not doing it. I can't do this."
Declan's outburst kept your feet frozen in place. Had he really just admitted to wanting you as badly as you wanted him.
You felt your hand roll the zipper of your dress down your side, your body moved without force as you slipped the straps over your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
"Fuck..." Declan barely breathed out the word. His stare devouring every inch of your skin.
"I'm not doing this." Declan uttered again barely even audible as if only to himself before striding towards you. His fingers found your hips as he thrust you against the door.
His lips were on yours before your back found the solid wood behind you.
You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up towards him, trying to bring your body as close to his own as possible. You needed every gap between you gone. You wanted to feel the heat of him even on this sticky summer evening.
"What am I doing?" Declan broke away and dropped to his knees, placing a firm hand on the middle of your stomach to hold you flush against the door.
There was a deep hunger in his eyes as he lifted one of your thighs up onto his shoulder, never breaking his gaze from your face to almost check if what he was doing was allowed.
You threw your head up, trying to find the air he had stolen from you, one hand finding a grip within his dark curls as your welcome reply.
"Please." You whispered.
Declan moved your panties to the side, a finger running over your folds, sending fire against your skin before he closed his mouth around you.
You let your eyes roll back as his tongue darted across your clit. Electricity filled your body with every moment of contact.
You felt his fingers circle lightly around your entrance. Your hand jumped from his thick curls to tightly grip the back of his own that pushed against your stomach. His grip on you felt as if it were all that was holding you up.
"You want me this badly?" Declan asked with a mixture of teasing and shock. The wetness of your heat coated the tip of his fingers and glistened on the dark hairs of his moustache.
"I've imagined this so many times." You admit honestly.
"I best live up to your expectations then." Declan inserted a finger inside of you, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips, which made Declan's cock twitch inside his boxer shorts. "Shhhh"
You placed your free hand over your mouth to which Declan smiled a toothy grin at you.
"Good girl" he purred.
Declan rose to his feet as he placed another finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you in a painfully slow motion that only made you ache for more.
Declan turned the lock on his door with his other hand before pulling himself away from you completely.
You pouted at the lack of contact to which he tutted.
"So impatient." He uttered as he undid his belt, pulling it from its loops and then kicking his trousers down.
Your eyes fell on the large member pressed against his underwear. The tip seeping precum through the material in a dark stain.
"Go to my desk." Declan ordered.
You almost ran over, Declan caught you by the waist and lifted you up onto it. Spreading your legs with his knee.
"Are you sure you want this?" Declan stripped himself of his shirt, revealing his chest covered with dark thick hair that you reached out to touch. This didn't feel real.
"More than anything." The words were so quiet but Declan seemed to hear them as he freed himself from his underwear.
You reached behind and unclasped your bra.
"Jesus..." He took a handful of your breast, squeezing you firmly as he stroked his member.
"Declan, please." You couldn't wait any longer. The ache pained you.
Declan didn't need to be told twice.
He tore your underwear down your legs and pressed his tip slowly into you.
You bit down on your lip hard to stop yourself from making any noise.
"Holy fuck..." Declan failed at being quiet. You were so tight against him he felt he could've finished inside of you within minutes.
You reached forward and hooked a grip behind his neck, encouraging him deeper inside of you.
"Fuck me please." you pleaded, trying to move your own hips to create some friction.
Declan took the hint and began thrusting into you quickly. His fingers almost bruising your skin as he held you steady on the desk.
The rattle of the belongings on the desk seemed to echo around the room alongside the slapping of skin.
Declan lifted you up, still inside of you and gently placed you down on the floor.
He hovered above you, just like he had once before, watching your face twist in pleasure as he fucked you.
You squeezed his shoulders, your nails leaving an impression whilst he brought you closer to your climax. You pressed your hips up into his creating hot friction against your clitoris, making you throb inside.
"Declan..." You tried to let him know; still trying to whisper to stay quiet.
"Cum for me, princess." Declan smirked, his stare never faltering as he rode you through to your end. He could feel you tighten around him only encouraging him to fuck you harder and deeper.
You bit down on your hand as your climax convulsed through you. Your body shaking in between Declan and the floor.
Declan moved you both effortlessly, lying on his back with you sat on top of him.
You leant ever so slightly forward, steadying yourself with your hand stretched out against his chest.
You smiled wickedly at him as you rolled your hips.
You felt exhausted by your own finish but knew you wanted to see the older man in the same state.
"That's a good girl." Declan held onto your hips, helping you pick up your pace.
His lips parted as he watched you ride him, sweat dripping down your skin mixing with his own as his dick twitched inside of you.
"Fuck (Y/n)." Declan cursed.
You shifted your hand to his neck, Declan almost laughed, flipping you again so that he was behind you. Both of you on your knees as he held you against his chest, his hand wrapped firmly around your neck with his opposite arm securely around your middle.
The sensation was almost unbearable as his thick member pumped in and out of you at such speed.
"You think you want to be a bad girl?" Declan hissed in your ear.
You could only shake your head.
"Bad girls get punished." Declan bit hard down on your shoulder and you fought to not cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.
"You're mine now." Declan's own proclamation brought himself to his own climax. He pulled out, spilling his seed over his own thighs to avoid finishing inside of you much to your own disappointment.
"I know you wanted that inside of you like the dirty girl you are." Declan teased you as he gave your throat one final soft squeeze.
You fell against him, both trying to catch your breath.
"Declan?" A voice and a knock came at the door.
"Shit..." The realisation of what had just happened and where it just happened hit Declan like a cricket bat to the face.
"I'll be out in a mo." Declan scrambled for his underwear and you did the same.
"Hurry up! I know that's where you're hiding the good stuff!" Bas' voice was more evident now and whilst he was definitely talking about the whiskey. The both of you couldn't help but laugh.
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solxamber · 2 months ago
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Romance Clichés With: Azul Ashengrotto
Cliché: Objecting to a wedding (with a little twist)
Others: Leona ; Vil ; Kalim ; Idia ; Jamil ; Riddle
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Azul sat at his desk in his office, pen poised, tapping thoughtfully as he contemplated what had become his primary preoccupation lately: how to tell you he was in love with you. It was strange, really, to be brought to such an embarrassing level of angst over something as ridiculous as romance.
He had been calm and calculated through all kinds of treacherous deals, survived the most unruly of contracts, and even faced the wrath of certain dorm leaders. And yet, here he was—totally, desperately, in love.
The problem, of course, was how to bring it up without appearing half as desperate as he actually felt. He could already hear Floyd’s teasing if he ever caught wind of it. Not that Azul would ever admit it, but he might be
 hopelessly, pathetically desperate. A shudder of horror ran down his spine.
“Alright, Azul,” he muttered to himself, smoothing out his vest. “You’re a businessman, a negotiator—you can handle this.”
But he hadn’t factored in one tiny detail: you were so busy that week, you barely had time to look in his direction. Every time he thought he had an opening to finally confess, you would dash off on some new errand, looking distracted. Azul was beginning to think you might not even realize he existed.
One afternoon, when you came in looking particularly absorbed, he thought, Alright, maybe I just need to be patient.
But then you said, “Azul, can Mostro Lounge handle catering for a wedding reception?”
He blinked, entirely taken off guard. “A
 wedding reception?”
“Yeah,” you replied, flipping through some papers as you looked at the lounge thoughtfully. “Also, can you do a big spread? You know, food for a few hundred people?”
Azul’s heart did an odd stutter as he absorbed your words. A wedding
 Surely, you didn’t mean your wedding, right? Right? He felt his pulse quicken, but he nodded, doing his best to appear calm.
“Yes, Mostro Lounge can cater
 sizable events,” he managed, his throat oddly dry.
“Oh, good,” you said, looking relieved. “Could you put together a sample menu sometime? I’d love to see what the possibilities are.”
You seemed distracted, almost
 giddy. Azul’s nerves were fraying with each passing second, but he held it together. It’s just an event, maybe they're organizing for a friend. It doesn’t mean—
But then, the twins ambled into his office later that afternoon. Floyd sauntered over, that unnerving grin plastered across his face. “Shame, Boss. Guess they're tying the knot with someone else, huh?”
Azul’s blood ran cold. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Jade chimed in, eyes glinting with unholy amusement. “Our prefect is planning their own wedding. I heard them talking about the caterers—thought you would’ve figured it out.”
Azul froze. No
 it can’t be

“Yeah,” Floyd continued, clearly relishing his shock. “They’re talking about the reception, catering, the whole deal. Sounds like a big one, too!”
Azul’s brain short-circuited as he tried to process this bombshell. He’d thought
 well, he hadn’t thought you would actually marry someone else. Suddenly, an image of you in a wedding with some faceless stranger standing beside you flickered in his mind, and he shot up from his desk, knocking his pen off the edge.
“Where
 where are they right now?”
Jade and Floyd exchanged glances, a wicked grin growing on Floyd’s face as he pointed toward the lounge.
Without a second thought, Azul tore out of his office, heart pounding. He found you near the dining area, still sorting through event plans, and before he knew what he was doing, he blurted, “Wait!”
You turned around, startled. “Azul? Is everything alright?”
“No, actually, it isn’t,” he said, words spilling out in a rush. “I—I object to this wedding!”
There was a beat of silence before you blinked, baffled. “Wait
 what?”
“The wedding!” he cried, nearly breathless from both panic and embarrassment. “You can’t just— I mean, I didn’t think you were
 I mean, I thought
”
You raised a brow, looking both concerned and a little amused. “Azul, what are you talking about?”
He stared at you, realizing too late that he hadn’t exactly
 clarified his feelings. The few bystanders who had overheard him began to chuckle, and Azul’s face turned the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen.
“Well,” you prompted, folding your arms with an amused smile, “care to explain yourself, Mr. Ashengrotto?”
Azul opened his mouth, then closed it, absolutely mortified. “I
 I thought it was your wedding you were planning.”
He could feel himself spiraling into a pit of despair as laughter rippled through the lounge. You, however, just looked at him, touched and amused all at once. You stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder, and he felt his pulse quicken.
“Azul,” you said gently, “I was planning this for a friend.”
Azul’s shoulders sagged in sheer relief. He let out a breath, and for the first time in his life, he genuinely didn’t care that people were laughing at him. Because you weren’t marrying anyone else, which meant—
“Oh,” he said faintly, face still red as a sunset.
You chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the moment far too much. “Did you really think I’d go through all that trouble to plan a wedding just for myself without saying a word to you?”
“I
 I might have,” he admitted, glancing away sheepishly.
You laughed, stepping even closer. “You really think I’d do that to you?”
Before he could answer, you leaned up and kissed his cheek, leaving him in stunned silence as the last of his anxieties melted away. “I take it you don’t want me planning any weddings unless it’s with you, hm?”
Azul felt his heart lurch, and though every fiber of his pride fought it, he nodded, his blush deepening. “
Yes. That would be
 preferable.”
“Well,” you said with a grin, “how about we just start with a date?”
He stared at you, relief and joy mingling into a grin that he just couldn’t hide. “I would
 like that. Very much.”
Floyd’s cackling erupted from behind you both, and Azul shot him a murderous glare, but he couldn’t find it in him to care too much—not when he had just won the only prize he truly wanted.
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libraford · 3 months ago
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I'm not bothered by the conversation so much as I am a growing approach to activism which makes it impossible to interact with other people. Which echoes a lot of that conversation I had with Ginger this week.
He refuses to have friends that are not faithful to Jesus. Like, he can have a productive conversation with a non-believer and nearly connect with them socially, but if he learns that they don't go to church or don't believe in christ, he finds it difficult to take them seriously because their words were not god-inspired.
Ginger was in a cult. I do not mean this colloquially- Xenos/Dwell is a prominent pseudo-christian cult in central Ohio that preys on college students in need of community. There are rules about who you can date, who you can hang with, they practice gay coversion therapy, and will tell you not to visit your family if they're not Christian.
There is a lot of focus on purity. Actions, thoughts, social groups- it's very controlling about what you can and cannot do.
So. When he goes out into the world with us sinners, it becomes difficult to interact with general society.
We were talking about Merve, one of our foremen, and I said: "the first time I was in a car with Merve, he introduced himself as a Democratic Catholic Pervert. And honestly- yeah that's a good summation."
Ginger didn't like that at all. "Well he's not a very good catholic with all that talk of pornography, he should be ashamed of himself- honestly shouldn't even call himself Christian."
Merve is very much a womanizer, but it's all talk. He's gross about it sometimes and it rubs me the wrong way, but in all fairness- he warned me. Outside of that, he's what I expected from a 60-something landscaper.
"Well, I think whether he's a good Christian or not is up to God, not us."
And he got a little pissy over that comment because I caught him judging.
He only hangs out with 'the faithful' at work, which consists of three guys who are religious in a similar way and it's caused a bit of a rift in the culture. It's gotten a little... preachy. It wasn't preachy before.
So I am making... parallels to this behavior and a particular strain of activism that's been affected by purity culture.
Nothing is ever good enough. If it touches racism, it's banned forever and you have to spread the word about how it's racist. Where doing things that are well-intended puts you in the spotlight for the underlying and actually bigoted reason you're doing a nice thing. And prevents you from doing the nice thing in the future.
Because yes you did a nice thing, but it wasn't enough- you could be doing more.
Yes you did a nice thing, but you did this nice thing instead of tackling this bigger issue.
Yes you did a nice thing, but it was through this program that you didn't know was funded somewhat unethically.
Yes you did a nice thing, but your motivation for doing it wasn't the goodness of your heart, it was motivated by guilt.
Yes you did a nice thing, but it took a horrible event to do it when you should have had the morals of goodness ingrained in you and you should have done this from the start.
Yes you did a nice thing, but you only did it when it started impacting your life and you should be thinking of others first.
Yes you did a nice thing but the nice thing doesn't align perfectly with my worldview.
The goalpost is forever moving backwards.
No one likes to be called 'racist.' It's a really easy weapon to use when something does something you don't like. If you look at anything closely enough, you will see it's racist roots. You could say the same for misogyny, homophobia. Our society is built on hatred and inequality. Untangling it and living a morally pure life free of ridicule is impossible.
Recognizing the roots of an action to be bigoted is the first step. The second step is knowing it when you see it. Step three is pointing it out.
But there are more steps.
Pointing it out, or calling it out, and chastising someone for ignoring or not knowing something actually isn't all that helpful. Because it leaves you to wonder- okay, now what? What can I do to remedy this situation?
Which is the next step- actionable items. Yes, I have done something wrong- I am sorry.
I am sorry. Now I will try to make it right.
I will try to make it right by donating, by volunteering time, by listening to the people who have been hurt and lifting their voices.
Part of healing from an oppressive Christian community is realizing that people are going to sin whether you like it or not. And barring harm to themselves and others, you're gonna have to let them.
If my tarot practice is derived from a 15th century racist, then it was derived for a 15th century racist. Refusing to participate in a past-time that helps me connect with my family doesn't make it not racist. It will still be racist. But I'm not sure who it's hurting in 2024 and I don't have a time machine and I'm not being given clear instructions for how to unracist it.
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alchemistc · 3 months ago
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Tommy slumps further into the couch cushions, and the looks Eddie gives him is - dire, really. Tommy sort of wants to get shit faced and cry a little while cradling this throw pillow - the same one Evan had smacked him with a week ago while they crowded Eddie's too-small couch and Tommy had made fun of Evan for not knowing a single player on the Dodgers.
("You're actively rooting against them, why do you care if I know who they are?"
"Know thy enemy, Buckley," was Eddie's immediate response, and Evan had swung the pillow when he caught Tommy and Eddie fist bumping out of the corner of his eye.)
"Pretty sure it's actually cheating to come to me," Eddie intones, but he's already up and moving towards the cabinet where he keeps the good whiskey.
He settles into the recliner and gestures with the bottle, a very clear 'go on' in his expression.
Tommy thinks about maybe just - drowning himself in spirits and hiding under a rock for the rest of his life.
"I asked Evan to move in with me."
Eddie's brow kicks up. He purses his lip. Nods. His eyes do something that tells Tommy he is actively biting down on whatever it is he's thinking.
"And...you...fought. You fought about Buck ... moving in."
(Six months is such a short time, really. They've just leapt every other milestone like it's their damn job, and - Christ, they'd had keys to each other's places in weeks.)
Tommy narrows his eyes. "You know something."
"Yeah, and that's why this," he gestures vaguely in the direction of Tommy, fully pouting on his couch and commandeering too large a surface area for Eddie to actually join him there, "is cheating."
Tommy would love to point out that he just doesn't have a shit ton of friends willing to listen to him bitch about an argument he's trying to figure out without fucking imploding the whole goddamn thing. He'd love to point out that he and Eddie have already set these boundaries and Tommy is aware he's pushing it.
Tommy tilts his head against the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling. "Well if we can't talk about it, at least get me drunk."
Eddie hands him a shot glass and stands to go grab them both beers.
---
"So the thing is," Tommy says, slumped against Eddie's side and gesturing in front of himself. His hands are - they're a little blurry. Thank God he isn't on call. "The thing is."
He's got a hangnail that's been driving him nuts for weeks. He's already got a layout in his head for how to make Evan's wardrobe fit in his closet. Half of Evan's kitchen lives in Tommy's already, and he'd - he'd been sure they were in the same page.
"The thing?" Eddie asks, and - Christ, it's not like Eddie's having an easy time with any of the - anything. He's definitely overindulged right along with Tommy. Thank fuck they're not maudlin drunks, just what they need is two PTSD riddled idiots filled up with liquor and bemoaning their lives.
"What thing?"
"The thing, Tommy."
Right. The thing. "I love him," Tommy says, and Eddie's eyes go wide like he doesn't already know this. But Tommy - Tommy's said it in range of Eddie's hearing, right? He's - he's said it.
(The lone braincell shared between them whispers that Tommy has said it, once, to the curls atop Evan's sweaty head while Evan was still passed out on his chest. Fuck braincells.)
"Uhuh."
"What uhuh?"
You don't ask someone to move in with you when you still haven't worked up the courage to say I love you to someone's face, is the thing. And Evan's said it - happy and carefree and open even when Tommy just kissed him to distract him from Tommy not saying it back. He has to know, right? Tommy's said it in every other way he knows how.
"Listen, bro code broken, man, Buck's fucking terrified to mess this up with you and the whole 'you haven't said the words' has been, like, messing with his head for weeks, dude. And now outta the blue, hey move in with me? He's trying desperately not to assume you did something terrible and are using this to cover it up."
"He told you that?"
Eddie scoffs. He actually says 'pshhh', and rolls his head towards Tommy. "No." He enunciates too much. The 'o' is way too long in that word. It's a two letter word, how did he make it sound like seven syllables?
Tommy wants another shot, but Eddie had clearly not meant for that whiskey to be shared and it'd already been more than half gone when he pulled it out. There's...maybe half an ounce left. Fuck.
"Then how...?"
"I already broke bro code for you, dumbass. Can't you read between the lines?"
"Is this like the couch thing?"
The mindfuck of trying to decipher Eddie and Evan's little shared looks while Evan announced that Tommy's couch was his favorite couch had been -
He's getting off track.
He hasn't said the fucking words. He's in love with the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful, filthiest fucking man he's ever known and he hasn't said the words.
"Hamster wheel," Eddie says sagely, like that means a damn fucking thing, but Tommy's already fumbling for his phone. Texting that is out of the question, and he doesn't want to call while he's... more drunk than he'd care to admit.
Tommy shoves Eddie off his shoulder, and only gets a little spinny when he stands. He's a forty year old man, he can absolutely ask his boyfriend to pick him up from... his boyfriends best friends house and help him sober up so he can have a conversation.
"Water," Tommy says, and Eddie snorts.
"Toooo late."
Tommy feels about five years old when he shoves at Eddie's face before retreating to the kitchen.
---
"Tommy," Evan says, bent low over the couch, and Tommy blinks himself awake, regretting every drop of whiskey he'd drunk last night. He'd - there'd been water. An attempt at typing out a message. A slap fight in Eddie's kitchen when he decided to chow down on the last of the casserole Evan had left behind three days ago. More water.
This couch is way too fucking small for him. He's - he's still got one shoe on, and a blanket crumpled haphazardly over one leg. His head is pounding.
Evan looks - concerned. Maybe still a little annoyed. Fond.
"Ev," he manages, moving to sit up and regretting it when five million bees make a home right there against his frontal lobe. Smoke clears that out, right? He remembers Evan being super fucking proud that that had worked.
Evan holds up a glass of water that Tommy takes gratefully. He doesn't drink it nearly as slowly as he should.
When he's done, Evan stands, and - God his legs are long. Tommy loves those fucking legs - loves the hair that catches against his calluses on his way up towards the promised land, loves the strength behind them when he snaps his hips forward, loves the way they feel all wrapped around him when they're -
"We are not anywhere close to the sort of resolution necessary for that look," Evan says, and Tommy sighs. Because they haven't talked about it. Because they'd yelled and smacked their hands against counters and the explosion had sent them careening off in different directions and Tommy hasn't told him.
"Angry sex can be fun," Tommy wheedles, a little unnecessarily because he doesn't actually want - and on Eddie's couch to boot, which is absolutely not what he's angling for.
"I'm not mad at you," Evan says, and Tommy gives him an unimpressed look. "Okay, I'm mostly just - confused."
Fair enough. Tommy's been confusing. Tommy's been -
Tommy curls a hand around the meat of Evan's calf and tips his head against Evan's thigh. "Can we not do this in Eddie's living room?"
---
He doesn't want to admit that it took Eddie breaking all sorts of friendship rules for Tommy to even grasp the point of Evan freezing the fuck up when Tommy had mentioned his lease. He doesn't want to admit that he's fucking terrified, all the time, about the feelings in his chest that never quite settle, that bubble up at the strangest times because every-fucking-thing reminds him of Evan. He doesn't want to admit that he'd just leapt that hurdle in his mind even though Evan has been very clearly marking every other step with metaphorical (and sometimes literal) sticky notes.
Evan hands him his tea and immediately starts picking at the paper sleeve on his cup of coffee.
"I'm not afraid of losing you," Tommy starts, which is - the opposite of the point he's trying to make, and Evan's grimace tells him it's a bad place to start. "I mean that's not why I asked."
Evan is still grimacing. And that's - Christ, he hadn't even planned it, it was just - he'd been there, digging through Tommy's sock drawer, his shit tumbling out of his overnight bag at the end of the bed and his book on the history of perfume in the bedside table and his crock pot stewing something that smelled heavenly, thirty feet away, and he wanted that always, wanted that forever, wanted more than anything to enjoy all the little moments that came before he spent the money in savings hed been setting aside since successful date number five when he'd wondered if Evan had ever thought about getting married.
"You think I asked out of convenience, right? Your stuff's already there, might as well?"
"I'm not leaving things there on purpose."
"I want you to leave things there on purpose. I want all your things there, on purpose. Even when you move my milk to the fridge door and my sugar stash to the wrong pantry shelf and even when you replace my toothpaste because it doesn't have the right enamel protection."
His lip quirks. That had been a near argument too. Tommy was particular. Tommy didn't do great with change. Evan's changed damn near fucking everything, for Tommy, and he's never been more grateful for a single thing in his fucking life.
Tommy curls a finger around Evan's wrist, and his gaze darts up through his lashes. They're long, and distracting, and Tommy wouldn't mind shoving this disagreement to the side so he can brush his lips across the paper thin lids of his eyes, but -
"I missed some steps, getting there," Tommy admits, and Evan bites his lip like he's trying to hide a smile.
"My fault, a bit. I - I could see why you might have just assumed we were scaling 'em two at a time."
"Evan," he says, and breathes a sigh of relief when his free hand darts out to smooth the veins on the back of Tommy's hand.
"Next week is six months," he says, like Tommy doesn't fucking know that, and his thumb sweeps over Tommy's knuckles. "So, i -if you have anything you wanna say before then, you got a week before you can ask me again."
(Six months is the blink of an eye, actually, but Tommy hates every blink that doesn't include Evan in it.)
"You got plans?" Tommy asks, and Evan's face pinkens.
"If you're lucky I'll even tell you them."
"It's a date."
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