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serendipitous-seven · 3 months ago

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baby if i fall | singledad!Jungkook x f!reader | "I Can't Wait..." series

summary: For nearly a year, you and Jungkook have enjoyed the blissful tidings of your new relationship. But it isn’t long before reality rears its ugly head, forcing you to face your insecurities head-on when Jungkook makes it apparent what steps he is ready to take while you present one of your own that has him squirming. Meanwhile, Mai begins to show signs of unexplained distress. With life hurling the three of you into uncharted territory, you and Jungkook begin to question if you will make it over this obstacle.

pairing: dad!Jungkook x f!reader genre: sequel, domestic au, angst, fluff rating: pg-15 word count: 21.5k tags/warnings: This is a sequel so to understand the storyline I highly advise you read the first part, linked below :] This fic is built around themes of insecurities about physical intimacy. STILL SFW as there are no explicit scenes of such, but there will be dialogue concerning those topics. Romance through out i.e. heavy kissing in two scenes, ‘sex’ is mentioned in a few conversations, a conversation between reader and reader’s mom regarding sex & intimacy. A verbal argument/a bit of yelling, unhealthy communication, Mai experiences distress in several scenes, bullying, topics of absent mother, Mai hits a classmate [it gets resolved], heavy crying, emotional distress through out.

singledad!JK series mlist | make sure you have read the first part before proceeding here

Please proceed by own discretion and caution as these themes can be triggering or uncomfortable for some. While the content is still SFW, I ask minors DNI.

a/n: So here I am with a refreshed sequel, edited and cried over because I still love this little family of mine. It was odd reading this in my current circumstances and feeling heartbreak all the same. It really made me realize and feel proud of how much I just love to write, it makes me feel things nothing else does. Maybe I won’t be healed completely by a story let alone my own, or characters who learn how to respect one another and learn each other’s love languages - but I am learning that this kind of love can truly exist outside of mere fanfiction. I believe in it even if it didn’t find me like I thought it did. I’m growing stronger with time, and I’m really happy I stepped out of my dark hole to edit this and present it. Pls handle it with care, I really put my heart into each fic, whether it’s brand new or re-posted work <3 This is me giving you all a piece of me.

This bliss is addictive, sitting in Jungkook’s arms while your families go on about random things. A silent moment of gratitude sits as intertwined smiles on both of your faces, taking it all in. Both fathers advise you on investing in stocks as Princess Mai is entertained by Jungkook’s mom, “Hamny,” and your mother, “Nunu,” who act as her faithful guards fighting against the imaginary dragon intruding upon their backyard.

Everyone is happy and at ease, obsessed with seeing you and Jungkook together.

“The family that always should have been,” according to Mrs. Jeon. Jungkook shakes his head when she says that but hearing it leaves a fluttering in his chest.

Jungkook’s hand is wrapped around yours as he drives home with a sleeping Mai in the backseat. You both giggle when she snores, almost waking herself up.

Once back at their house, you win a playful fight against Jungkook to carry Mai to bed. You live for this despite her getting a little heavier with every inch she grows.

She moans and groans as you help a very zombified Mai change into her pajamas and brush her teeth before tucking her into bed. Usually the chatty one, she manages to butterfly a kiss onto your nose before rolling over, instantly falling back to sleep, her even breathing filling the silence of her room.

Jungkook is waiting at the door, lost in a dreamy haze after watching it all. He still has to pinch himself, wondering how on earth he managed to get you. Not only as his best friend, which he would have happily kept it that way, because having you was better than not, but to have you and be able to tell you with his entire being, ‘I love you.’ Nothing beats that. Watching you get his daughter ready for bed not only now, but the way you’ve handled her with care for all of these years, it is so different. There is an extra layer of love you have to offer. He wonders if he only sees it now because your mutual love for each other manifests in a new and intimate way. He finds himself unable to fully grasp the feelings that you continue to stir inside of him.

You tie your arms around his neck once he closes Mai’s door, and he kisses you; “Can you take care of me like that?” He teases against your lips. You roll your eyes, returning his affection. Jungkook carefully walks the two of you toward his bedroom. Too lost in him, you don’t question where he is headed until the back of your knees collide with his bed.

It’s only then that you stutter, pulling away from his kiss, but he has an ardent need to show you how much he loves you.

“Jungkook,” you start when he moves his lips across your cheek, pressing them along your jaw, down to the valley of your neck. You gasp, and only then does he stop, his face red with passion.

“You okay?” He chuckles, squeezing your waist with his hands.

“Um, yes-” you waver, but Jungkook, too caught in the moment, takes that as the go-ahead and continues; “a-and no.”

His breath stills, and he stops again. You look up at him with shaking eyes as he looks down at you, riddled with confusion and concern. You move your hands over his chest, staring at his shirt, “I um- I-I’m not ready for this, not yet.”

He understands right away, stumbling back to put distance between the two of you. “Oh,” his voice trembles and his hands drop to his sides, “th-that’s okay, I’m sorry, I-uh I shouldn’t have assumed-”

You rub his arms to assure him you aren’t offended, kissing his cheek. It’s awkward though, neither of you can deny it, hands loosely holding the other as he walks you to your car.

“You can still spend the night-” he starts, but you turn and offer him an empathetic smile, touching his cheek.

“I think we need to cool off.” You chuckle, feeling embarrassed, “Wouldn’t it be kind of insensitive for me to stay with you tonight?”

He melts at the feel of your warm palm against his cheek, snorting. He looks at you with an arched brow, “Why, because I can’t resist you?”

You shrug with a pressed smile, “You tell me.” The exchange is awkward, and Jungkook can see the tightness on your face.

He pulls you in for a hug, kissing the side of your head. You feel shivers up and down your spine when he breathes next to your ear. “I love you, okay?”

You breathe the same words, hugging your boyfriend a little tighter.

Driving home, it’s all you can think about. It isn’t a question of wanting to. You want to. But knowing Jungkook for as long as you have has also meant knowing his life, too much of it.

You scoff out loud, cursing your very thoughts. ‘Can I measure up to those women? Will I be different enough for him to want to commit to me forever?’ It haunts you.

You feel sick and force yourself to think of something else, anything else but that.

“I have a parent-teacher conference with Mai’s teacher on Friday,” Jungkook sighs, his hand stroking your arm. You rest back against his chest, the two of you squashed into a lounge chair while Mai runs around the yard with their new dog, Bam. Every time you see the large Doberman, you want to laugh; Jungkook is never short of surprises and last-minute decisions. You should know that by now.

“Is that why you seemed so wound up tonight?” You tip your head to get a better view of him.

He shuts his eyes, grinning, “On top of this move, yeah, I guess so.” You can feel his body tense up from stress. You turn in his lap, swiping your hand back through his newly, box-dyed hair- another thing you could laugh at if he wasn’t so pressed at the moment, “Did she get in trouble?”

“Depending on how that meeting goes, she may be in trouble with me,” his eyes wander to find his daughter lying flat on the grass, Bam’s generous licks coating her face in kisses. Mai shrieks, carefully pushing Bam away before she’s running again.

“Even though working my business from home now gives me more time to be with you guys, I can’t help her as much with homework like I used to,” your eyes follow Mai’s erratic jaunt throughout the backyard, unable to keep the smile away for too long while you watch her, “maybe she needs a tutor.”

Jungkook pats your thighs, whispering, “I don’t know,” before he tells his daughter it’s time to go in and start her night routine.

Mai sprints past her dad and into your arms, wrapping you in a death-defying grip around your waist. Jungkook’s face blushes at the sight, body overtaken by butterflies, a feeling he’s become used to. He rubs his chest as he watches you walk backward with Mai as she warns you that you’ll run into something, guiding you back into the house.

“Are you spending the night?” Mai asks once inside the house, releasing you.

You brush her hair back behind her shoulders, holding her chin in your hand, “Mhm, so go brush your teeth, bean, then I’ll tuck you in.”

Mai’s face beams with a smile much like her dad’s. Jungkook smiles to himself, listening to the two of you banter while he cleans off the dining room table.

“How come you don’t just live with us at the new house?” Mai starts to hop toward the hallway, unfazed by the weight of her question. You stop in your tracks, “You sleep over a lot anyways!” She adds.

Jungkook’s head pops up, eyes finding you right away. His curious grin is a heavy contrast to the way you start nibbling on your lip. “How observant of you,” you look down at her.

“Daddy said he would like for you to move with us-” Mai turns to grin at her dad, a window of space in her teeth, “he’s just too chicken-”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, face glowing red, “Okay slick, go-uh-go brush your teeth and we’ll be in there in a minute,” Jungkook cuts in. Mai hops away with Bam close at toe.

Jungkook catches your round eyes, “I’m guessing we should talk about that,” he flashes you an innocent smile, “after she goes to bed.” You’re nodding before he can fully finish that sentence.

“Me moving in is not an idea I want in Mai’s head,” you huff, looking over at Jungkook and the smirk on his face. He notices your annoyance, pushing his lips together, “Go on,” he urges you.

“I just wish you would have told me this is a discussion you were having with your kid, babe,” you sigh, putting the last plate he rinsed into the dishwasher before starting it up, “isn’t that something you should be talking to me about, not a 7-year-old?”

“I’m not discussing anything like that with my daughter, she asked if you were going to move with us, and I said it would be nice, but- she brought it up,” he snorts, “not me!”

You bark with laughter, “Blaming Mai, how father-of-the-year of you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook laughs despite your frustration, tossing the rag into the sink before slinking his arms around your waist, pushing his nose into your cheek. You scoff, trying to fight him off, but he proves victorious, as always. Your arms fall limp when he squeezes you tightly before leaning forward for a kiss.

“Cheater,” you say against his lips, “this does not end our conversation.” He giggles this time before kissing you again, “and your stupid little ring here can’t distract me either.” You add, pressing your finger against the piercing on his bottom lip.

He laughs, dropping his head in defeat, “I wasn’t aware a conversation between two people meant one person argues while the other can’t get a word in edgewise,” he pats your side, smirking, “and complain about this all you want, I know you like it.”

You swat his chest in response, “whatever,” attempting to wiggle out of his hold. He finds your determination cute, hardly putting up any restraint against your pathetic attempt to set yourself free; “and it’s hard to argue when you won’t let me go!”

“It’s a lot more fun to argue this way,” he retorts.

Oh, he’s good.

You let out a loud huff, once again losing the fight, “Well, what do you have to say for yourself then?” Your frown only makes his gaze softer, you watch his eyes dart all around your face. You know he’s wondering where he should kiss you next.

“What I have to say is…I am madly and deeply in love-”

“Jung--kook,” you laugh with all frustration, pushing against his biceps that seem to grow by the day, “I am trying to have a very serious conversation right now wherein my boyfriend, you, respects me and listens to my concerns and validates my feelings because this is kind of a major thing!” You take a deep breath at the end of that sentence.

He steals a kiss before letting you go, apologizing. Though you wouldn’t mind hearing Jungkook tell you daily just how in love with you he is, that could wait for a later time. He follows you into the living room, peering down the hallway instinctively to make sure Mai’s night light is on in her bedroom, where she is sound asleep. You hold your glass of wine between two hands, watching him settle onto the couch, his arm draped over the back and resting his head against his palm.

He smiles at you, stealing a sip from your glass, having opted out of a glass for himself, considering he has an early meeting in the morning; “Okay, so Mai and I got a little excited about moving, and you did come up. I’m sorry, baby. But help me understand what’s troubling you.”

You immediately feel heard, a warmth settling in your chest when you realize he has been listening for the last 30 minutes.

“I’m just surprised she would ask that, and a little bothered that you didn’t tell me. But my concern is Mai, I just don’t want to get her hopes up about me moving in with you guys. You know kids, and you know your kid, she holds onto every hope and she is smart. You give her an inkling, and she puts two and two together so fast.”

He nods, sighing, “I hear you and you’re right, but I’m wondering if the issue really has to do with my daughter, and I-” he makes it a point to gesture at himself, “wanting this or you not wanting to move in. I mean, I’m obviously not opposed to the idea, we’ve been together for almost a year now. I’m moving into a new place. Isn’t moving in together the next logical step?”

Steps? You can’t hold in the hefty sigh that sits in your chest. The lingering thoughts loom over your head when you think about the steps you and Jungkook have overcome in just the last few months. Being with him, it’s seventh heaven, yes. Moving on from best friends to best friends that have fallen in love, confessing that love to each other then becoming boyfriend and girlfriend. But with time and a new relationship, it’s you and Jungkook. The two of you know each other well, and that in itself was proving to be a hurdle.

“Is it, Jungkook? Most couples-”

“For us,” he says in a breath, “I’m talking about you and me. We’ve known each other for a long time, been in love with each other for God knows how long before confessing, you’ve helped me raise my kid- moving in together feels right and besides-” Jungkook moves forward, resting his hand on your knee with a careful laugh, “baby, you do sleep here almost every night anyway.”

You abandon your wine for a more serious tone, “because it’s a drive for me to get hom, and I’m always here late. Besides, your new house is a lot closer to my apartment.” It’s the truth, the half-truth anyway.

There’s an odd silence that follows for a few beats. Jungkook looks down at where his hand rests on your knee, fingers playing with the material of your pants; “I know something else is bothering you…” It suddenly becomes hard to swallow when Jungkook looks at you, a certain caution in his eyes as he presents that observation.

You chew on the inside of your lip.

Moving in does sound nice. Being able to work from home and hear Jungkook and Mai come in, maybe even swing by his office for a quick lunch together on occasion. Picking Mai up from school on your days off and bringing her home, a home you don’t have to leave just to stay alone in your apartment when all you want is to be with the two loves of your life.

It sounds perfect.

But…

The but…You hate it. You’ve hated it since the moment it barged its way into your head. It arrived and never left, making itself comfortable as an unwelcome guest inside your mind. Moving in only means things progress from there, naturally. You share a space with the one you love. Share a bathroom. A bed… And it’s not like you and Jungkook haven’t shared those things already. But physical intimacy with each other outside of making out and other forms is otherwise vague in your relationship, you always made sure it stopped before it progressed beyond a point you can’t take back with him.

Jungkook can see the inner workings of your mind appear as a question mark on your face. He wants to ask you, but the knot in his stomach tells him not to. He wants you to be ready to talk about it.

“Come here,” he pulls you into his arms, the way he always does when he isn’t sure about what to say when both of you are at a loss. And it’s nice, it’s so nice to finally be able to do this with him.

“I just want you with us as much as possible,” he soothes, rubbing your sides, “that’s all I’m getting at.”

You nod, “We’ll talk about it more and I’ll give it some thought,” you sit back, holding his hands, “but just-don’t let this be a conversation you have with Mai again, please? I don’t want to disappoint her if it doesn’t happen.”

He frowns, “‘doesn’t happen?’ You mean, ever?” He can’t hide his disappointment.

“Jungkook,” you’re exasperated, “we just haven’t talked about enough yet. Yes, we are in a relationship, but I mean, there are other factors to consider too, right?”

When he fidgets in his spot, you suddenly realize there is space between the two of you. “Are you talking about what happened a month ago?”

You feel exposed, stripped in a way to say anymore, but it’s a thought that’s been in your mind since the issue arose for you, “yes, that is something, but I also mean- well, like marriage? Have you thought about marriage?”

He tries to hide the way his eyes widen. “Is that something you want?”

You bite your lip, “You don’t?”

He sees your expression, the way you’re growing more distant by the second. He remembers the last time this happened, almost to the point of losing you entirely. He makes a last-minute decision to re-close the gap, tying your fingers with his, “okay, so there is a lot we still need to discuss before moving in together is an option then.”

You nod wearily, “which is why we need to leave Mai out of it, for now.”

Jungkook hates to end the night this way, the two of you lost, unsure of how the other is feeling. Instead of sleeping in his arms, you both take to your respective sides of his bed - you staring up at the ceiling and Jungkook, who is lying on his side, stares out of the window.

You pretended to be asleep when you felt him stir at one point, knowing he turned to check.

He lay back on his side, mind running rampant with intrusive thoughts. These questions he wasn’t aware could exist until entering a relationship with you now cloud his forethought. Before, he wondered how he could go on secretly loving you, so desperately wanting you to want him. And now that he has you, his question feels heavier.

‘Can I be good enough for her?’ It booms with such a heavy bass that it irritates his eardrums.

You squirm in your seat, cheek resting against your knuckles as you stare back at your computer screen. The conversation you and Jungkook had last night left you strained, mind occupied, despite the mountain of work in front of you. And by the way both of you struggled to even spare a look at each other when you kissed him goodbye this morning, you knew he was still thinking about what was going on in your mind.

In hindsight, dating for almost a year may have been too soon to bring up marriage. There is still so much to do as a couple, to learn about your best friend turned boyfriend, and even your relationship with Mai is changing ever so slightly. You want time to explore all of that, but Jungkook’s statement, even though it regarded something else for him, kept flashing in red font before your eyes.

‘I’m talking about you and me…’

You and Jungkook. It used to be an unfathomable dream. Now you are living it, and those single words hold so much for you. It’s wonderful and terrifying when you allow the thought to seep in, wrapping its meaning around your bones; it was a part of you now.

It’s nearly impossible not to imagine that kind of future with this man who continues to captivate you more and more. Every day you see Jungkook and you think, ‘Can I really love him more than I already do?’

And the answer is always yes.

Then, Mai dances across your mind, a foolish smile appearing on your lips and leaving Nic to wonder what drug you are on at the moment. She knows, rolling her eyes with a smirk when she notices how distracted you’ve become.

She came over in need of your skill, wanting a new banner and a few extra graphics to dress up her website.

“Ah,” Nic dramatizes a sigh, wheeling her chair over to your desk, “what’s it like up there on cloud nine?” She elongates her words to string you along, looking down at the framed picture you have of Jungkook and Mai, a selfie they took some years back while on vacation. You remember it clearly because Mai had just turned five and Jungkook surprised her with a trip to her favorite amusement park. They sent you that selfie and a quick text telling you how much they missed you and wished you were there with them.

You have to laugh at the obviousness of it all; the three of you were a family before you even knew it.

“I would ask how your love life is but-” Nic looks back at you with an arched brow, “it’s pretty obvious how well that’s going.”

You widen your eyes, choosing to answer her query with a gentle nod.

But it’s Nic, she picks up on everything, even when you get back to work with a set determination. She purses her lips, searching for the right words to form her nosy question.

“I know you have something to say,” you lean back in your chair, pushing your digital art pen behind your ear before returning a sarky look toward Nic, “so no need for consideration - out with it.”

She gives you a look of innocence, fluttering her eyelashes at you, “you’ve sighed like a million times in the last hour, and despite how in love you are, I know you. So either you are exhausted with my presence or-” she drawls, waiting in expectation.

You open your mouth, and Nic is quick to press her finger against your lips, “I know you aren’t that tired of me.”

You push her hand away, laughing, “Okay, okay. It’s stupid-ugh, no. It’s not stupid, actually, and that’s bothering me.”

You think it should be simple, wanting to share in the physical act of love with the man you love.

Nic’s eyes wander your expression for more, steeping in confusion that mirrors the very same inside of you, “gonna need more than that.”

The two of you share in a silent stare-off, a moment that Nic knows is necessary while you try to piece together the tethered ends of your worries; “Mai passively suggested I move into their new house with them, come to find out they talked about it briefly before. Jungkook is all for it and it - I don’t know - it started this whole conversation…” You shake your head, trailing the end of your jumbled mind.

“Okay,” Nic continues to read your expression, noting the bend in your posture and shaking eyes, “okay, not the worst thing he could want considering this is Jeon Jungkook we’re talking-” she stops when you shoot her a flat look, “sorry okay, well, what was the conversation about?”

You round your eyes, “everything.”

Nic sighs your name, “literally giving me nothing to work with here.”

You groan out loud, tossing your head back until it hits the back of your chair, “because it’s not fair, he and I are finally in this place neither of us knew the other wanted until months ago, and now reality has wedged its way into our relationship and- I-I don’t know if we’re ready to answer all of these questions.”

“Questions like?” She motions with her hands to draw you out.

“Having sex!” The words spill out of you, leaving you to burn beneath the flame of embarrassment. It’s enough to make Nic sit back, eyes popped open and mouth slightly agape.

“Not-okay, god-not just that. Our conversation spiraled from moving in together to marriage, and now I’m afraid Jungkook doesn’t actually want to marry me- and before you ask, no, I don’t want to be married right now, but-” your shoulders drop even lower, “it is something I want with him.”

A loud exhale falls out of your friend, “Oof, okay, this is- yeah-this is a lot of baggage.”

“It’s a mixed pot of crap, is what it is Nic,” you groan.

“So,” the tone of her voice drags along, “I’m guessing you guys haven’t-”

“We sound like teenagers,” you roll your eyes, “no, Jungkook and I have not had sex, I wasn’t ready when he was, and am still not ready.”

She nods, “Okay, fair, but uh-that’s um-that’s kind of a bump, right? I mean, maybe not right this minute but I’m guessing you two wouldn’t have come this far if a long-term relationship wasn’t something you’re both aiming for? So, you know, that will become an area that needs to be discussed.”

You drop your head in your hands, “My stupid brain won’t stop patronizing me with his past,” you sit upright, hair askew, “his past that wasn’t that long ago, and- I don’t know…”

Nic sighs, understanding immediately and if she knew any better, was aware of this before you confirmed it, “there it is. Okay, so his past taunts you. Are you worried he’ll cheat on you?”

“No, Jungkook has done a lot of things but no I’m not worried-” you sigh, “I love him, I love Mai, I love the three of us together,” if not for the issue at hand, Nic could hear the musing sound of love in your tone, “but this has been an issue since before I fell in love with him and I can’t get it out of my head, even now.”

“You have to talk to him,” Nic repeats these words you remember so clearly from months ago, “that’s the only way you guys will know what step to take next or how to take it.”

“I know that, and we will, but-” you hesitate for a moment, “what if he really can’t commit to me. I mean, he has me, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want anything else with anyone else, but I can’t stop seeing that look on his face when I mentioned marriage.”

“Look, this isn’t my relationship, babe,” Nic leans in, “and I’m just asking rhetorically here, but does marriage have to define his commitment to you?”

She knows you’ll answer her anyway by the set look in your eyes; “for me, it does.” You hate the way that sounds; “I know Jungkook, he’s been my best friend for so long and now we get to be in love and of course I want to express that to him in every variation we can,” a soft chuckle slips passed your lips, “but just because it is him doesn’t mean I change my standards, even if he is the only guy that knows me so well. For me, giving myself to him? It’s a serious commitment.”

“Don’t hate me for asking what I am about to ask, but does this mean if he doesn’t want to get married, you’re never going to sleep with your man? You’re just going to continue holding hands like Little House on the Prairie-”

A drawn-out scoff bellows out of you, tossing your pen at her, “You are supposed to be helping me, not making fun of me!”

“I’m kidding,” her tone changes with a hint of laughter, left over, “I respect you.”

You feel yourself blush at the prideful smile on you friend’s face as she looks at you; “A lot.”

A few quips are made before the two of you are working again, leaving the conversation to itself.

Drowning your worries about each other in work, communication between you and Jungkook is limited to sending goodnight texts and ‘I love you’s’ for a week straight.

As you make your way to Mai’s school, all you can think about is the last time you made this drive, prompted by a call from her principal, later listening to your best friend of many years tell you he loved you back. If it worked out then, somehow this could all work out now. Pulling into a visitor’s parking spot, something churns in your belly, the unknown making you skip a few steps of the staircase as you trail into the building.

There is a smell to every school that immediately launches you into some nostalgic place of remembering, pulling open the door to the main office before politely telling the secretary you were there for Mai. After confirming the emergency call list, she directs you back to the office where the principal is waiting at her desk. Mai’s teacher, Mrs. Yoon, is standing off to the side and offers you a head nod with a meek wave.

Instantly, you spot Mai, her body limp in the chair and head drooping. She isn’t swinging her feet like she often does when they can’t reach the ground, and she isn't playing with the hem of her shirt. The little girl hardly spares you a breath when she hears you call her name softly, rubbing the top of her head with a careful caress.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Ms. Park says, flashing a tight smile at you. “Mrs. Yoon has informed me that Mai was caught arguing with another classmate today, it appears she called her a name.”

Both teachers see the confusion blanket across your face, solidifying even for them the oddity of this entire ordeal. Mai has always been an obedient little girl, and though she got in trouble like any other child from time to time, this was outlandish for the Jeon Mai you’ve known since birth, “I’m sorry?”

Mrs. Yoon nods regretfully, “During reading hour, the two girls who share a table were going on and on. I initially thought they were just chatting, but when I made my way over, Mai-ehm- she called the other student, ‘stupid.’”

Mai’s head drops even lower, your eyes boring into her.

“Aside from her recent decline in class participation and work, we have never experienced any trouble with Mai before, not like this. So we are just as surprised as you but,” Ms. Park folds her hands over the desk, “we can’t treat her like any special case - she will need to come back on Saturday and serve a detention. We will send a letter home to her father about weekend work to make up for her missed assignments.”

A long sigh escapes you, nodding.

After the meeting, you make a call to Jungkook knowing it would be better to warn him rather than bombard him with the unfolding of his delinquent child. Mai drags herself to your car, staying a few feet ahead of you.

“Hey,” you breathe slowly when he picks up, noting the way Mai tenses her shoulders because she knows who you are talking to. In the background of the call, you can hear him driving, “Are you heading to another showing?”

“Nope,” he lets out a fake cheer, “finished up early, why?”

“Brace yourself,” you say slowly into the phone.

“What’s wrong? Is Mai okay?” The panic rises in his tone but you are quick to settle it, opening Mai’s door so she can hop in. She avoids your eyes, buckling herself in before you shut the door.

You stay outside of the car, “apparently, Mai called one of her classmates ‘stupid’ today.”

“What,” Jungkook laughs, disbelief apparent in his voice, “you’re kidding.”

“I don’t know who was more shocked, me or her teachers, but it’s true and sweet little bean has jail time this weekend,” you try to soften the blow with a small joke. Jungkook groans, his palm landing in a firm slap against the steering wheel.

“Alright,” he curses, “alright, I’ll see you girls in a minute.”

Your attempt to fill the quiet drive proves to be a failed one. “Bean?” You flit your eyes between the road and a sulking Mai in the backseat. She doesn’t acknowledge you, her chin sitting in the palm of her hand. She traces patterns onto her pants with her finger, bottom lip hanging low.

You clear your throat, pulling into Jungkook’s driveway. Mai sees him first, waiting at the door with his hands shoved inside his pockets. She groans, planting her forehead into her hand.

You pinch a smile as the two of you walk up to him. Jungkook kisses your cheek, his hand wrapping around the back of Mai’s neck while the three of you walk into the house. You put Mai’s things away while they walk into the living room. A force hangs around the little girl’s ankles the longer her father is silent. He tells her to sit on the sofa while he pulls up the ottoman, sitting right in front of her.

“So…?” Is all he says, clasping his hands together.

Mai’s chin falls against her chest, heavy breaths falling out of her nose, making it apparent she has no interest in discussing her mistake. You occupy yourself with Bam, quietly taking a seat out of Mai’s eyesight.

“Jeon Mai,” Jungkook tightens his tone, “you already have detention tomorrow, you want to be grounded next weekend too?”

Mai gasps, picking her head up and looking at her dad like he’s just betrayed her in the worst way, “Daddy that’s not fair, I didn’t even do anything!”

Jungkook’s pierced eyebrow quirks, “So calling your classmate stupid is okay?” He frowns.

Mai flings herself back into the cushion, her frown a carbon copy of her dad’s, “She deserved it.”

“Mai,” her name comes out as a harsh whisper from your mouth. Jungkook looks at you. Your body rattled from such a brazen thing for a 7-year-old to say, you disappear out into the back. Jungkook’s eyes are already back on his daughter, who is watching you out of the corner of her eye.

It was never easy to discipline Mai, especially when tears were sitting in the corners of her eyes. No matter how large her mistake, Jungkook often teetered on the edge of caving because he couldn’t stand seeing his daughter cry or hurt in any way. But he stiffened his upper lip just like every other time, leaning forward in anticipation of her side of the story.

Mai’s eyes smoke with frustration when she opens her mouth to say something before closing it again, “Never mind,” she mumbles, head falling back against the sofa cushion, “nobody ever listens anyways,” her tiny voice argues.

“We’re going to your classmate’s house so you can apologize, Saturday after-”

“No!” Mai yells, a look of horror painting her tiny features, “Daddy, I don’t wanna go to her house, I already said sorry in Ms. Park’s office-”

“No exceptions,” Jungkook shoos Bam out of the way, Mai’s protector. At any sound of distress, the lanky dog appears to assure his miniature owner is safe; “what’s going on, huh? First, the teacher-parent conference, and now this?” You note the slight spiral Jungkook appears to be in.

Mai sniffles, using the back of her hand to wipe her eyes, “I don’t care about school,” she whimpers. Crocodile tears staining her perfectly round cheeks.

Jungkook expresses his exhaustion with a sigh, a deep breath rounds his chest before he inches closer to his daughter. “Come on bud, you’ve always loved school- what’s going on?” He wipes each tear that follows.

Mai hiccups a couple of times, her teardrops only growing larger and making the ache in Jungkook’s heart greater. He swallows back the lump forming in his throat, allowing Bam to nestle himself between them, resting his snout on Mai’s knee. For a moment, the three of them are stuck in the center of a storm, Mai’s deep cries filling up the space.

“What is it, baby?” Jungkook soothes her, his tattooed hand grabbing onto her small one. Her broken words are the only sound heard for the next minute before she musters up the courage to speak.

“Th-there’s a dance,” Mai cries, her tiny body taken over by emotion. She looks at her dad when he tells her to take a deep breath, following his instruction a few times over.

“A dance?” He asks softly, rubbing her fingers between his.

“Mhm,” Mai nods, eyes red but the tears have stopped flowing now, “f-for kids and their moms.”

Jungkook inhales, eyes closing for only a second before he’s staring right into his daughter’s eyes. He can’t allow her to see the break in his own eyes, “for moms, hm?”

“That girl was asking me about my mom, and I got mad,” Mai pouts, her finger tracing one of Jungkook’s tattoos, “I called her stupid…”

He breathes in through his teeth, nodding, “okay kiddo, listen to me-” Jungkook takes Mai’s chin, directing her to look at him, “you understand why you gotta’ apologize to her, right? And properly?”

Mai just nods.

“Okay,” he sighs, dropping his hand to engulf both of hers in one, “I am sorry you are hurting, bean. You need to tell me these things as soon as they happen, yeah?” He squeezes her hands, “How else is Dad going to know when you need my help unless you tell me?”

“’Cause I-it’s embarrassing, daddy,” Mai’s voice cracks, “it’s not fair that I don’t get to go j-just because-” Mai frowns, “it’s just not fair.”

“No, it’s not, but you know what you got, right?” Jungkook pulls Mai’s hands to rest them on top of his shoulders, his hands moving to hold her around her ribcage, he utters your name and the mere sound of it creates a thin smile on Mai’s face, “and you have a Hamny, Nunu, and two poppas- you even got this dummy-” Jungkook and Mai look down at Bam who is in desperate want of some love himself, “and you have me forever, Jeon Mai, you can’t forget about me.”

He reaches around her neck and taps his fingers there gently, swimming in the sound of his daughter’s giggles. Bam hops around the furniture as the sound of Mai’s repaired joy leaps out of her body, seeping into the walls of her bedroom.

After sorting out her punishment, Jungkook leaves Mai to start her homework, slipping through the sliding glass door to find you. You look at him as he makes his way over, a look of wonder on your face, “I was sure they were talking about the wrong kid.”

Jungkook presses his eyes shut, shaking his head.

It was a long week, and all three of you were feeling it. From work, school, and the wavering questions surrounding your relationship. You hesitate for a moment before wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist, kissing the center of his chest, then looking up at him.

He groans, dropping his hands to rest on your sides, “I thought we settled all of this at the parent-teacher meeting last week.”

“Oh, you never did tell me what happened,” you say, resting your chin against his chest. He smooths his hands up and down your back, the two of you looking at each other. Neither acknowledges any reason for the week-long radio silence.

“Yeah-um,” his eyes strain, the vein in his neck protruding, “apparently math isn’t the only class her grades are suffering in,” he lets you go, “she’s almost failing math actually, hasn’t brought home her science homework for the last couple of weeks, isn’t reading their assigned book for the year-” he shakes his head.

Your sharp inhale alerts Jungkook, “What? This isn’t like her-”

“I know that, I know my kid,” he spats back.

He catches the surprise in your face, noting how short he’s been in the last week, too.

“I’m sorry, I’m just-there’s a lot going on and it seems to be happening all at once,” he breathes, reaching out for you to grab his hand. You move forward on weary feet before taking it, allowing him to pull you into another hug.

“We’ll figure this out,” you assure him, rubbing his back, “maybe-um, just focus on Mai right now, she’s important.”

So are you, he thinks to himself.

He leans forward and pecks your lips, “Maybe we can de-stress,” he kisses you again, “in the hot tub, after she goes to bed.”

Suddenly, your tongue swells, depleting you of any sound response, eyes struggle to meet his. The embers of desire stoke inside of you, but everything else wills you to create distance. If not for Jungkook’s mindful hold around you, you are sure you’d fall back.

“I can’t,” you feign disappointment, “I shouldn’t, it’s the middle of the week.”

He questions you with a look.

You lean up to kiss his cheek before moving his arms from around you, “Not tonight, Kook.”

“Okay,” he feels dissatisfied with your reason, following you back to the front door. Before you can get into your car, Jungkook tugs your arm, bringing you back to him.

“Jungkook,” you breathe tirelessly.

“Need a favor,” he laughs, “for Mai.”

Your ears perk up, body relaxing in his arms. Jungkook pretends not to notice the way you tensed initially.

“Um-there’s a dance, I guess, for uh-well for the kids and their moms-”

A small gasp escapes you, “Oh no.” Your heart launches into your throat, face falling.

Heart stuttering in his chest, your reaction for Mai always so deep he can feel it inside of himself, “you think you’d want to take her?”

“Of course,” you say in a breath, “oh my gosh, of course I’ll take her.”

All he can do is repay you in the way he’s most confident in, hands squeezing you before he peppers your lips with kisses, “I love you.”

You push his face back, skin warming beneath his touch, “You know I’d do anything for her.”

His eyes twinkle as they drink you in, but you can see a measure of worry in them; “I know we have a lot to discuss,” he starts, “but we’re gonna be okay, yeah? You and Me?”

You want to settle his worry, but fear invades you like a virus and gnaws at your stomach, “just - one thing at a time.”

You feel his hold around you faintly loosen, but you mask it by telling him you’ll help him pack up some more boxes since Mai wasn’t going to be around Saturday. He’s disappointed, but rather than question you, he thanks you and opens your car door, pulling your chin to kiss you goodbye.

Jungkook lays in bed that night, becoming too familiar with this sleeplessness. His hands lay behind his head while he stares up at the ceiling, watching your weariness paint a picture across the white expanse of his bedroom.

He recalls this helpless feeling when you walked away from the cruise ship, leaving him with the notion that you were done with him entirely. Mai enters his mind and an audible scoff comes out like poison, forcing him to shut his eyes because he can’t bear that pain. But it’s a burden he is forever vowed to in order to protect his daughter. Despite how apologetic she was, he could see something brewing in her. Not like anything he’d seen before when this issue about her absent mother would come up.

All he wanted was in his hands: his daughter and you. As sleep finally rained over him like a heavy storm, he couldn’t help feeling like what he finally had a grasp on was beginning to slip through his fingers.

“I swear there’s an echo, listen-” you stop to allow quiet into the empty house, looking at Jungkook who is smirking at you, “HELLO!”

Jungkook pretends to listen with anticipatory glee, eyes gliding across the vast space of his new home while Bam sniffs around the tiled floor.

Silence.

You pout, opening your mouth to try a different sound before Jungkook gently places his hand over your mouth, “just admit defeat, babe- this is hard to watch.”

You click your tongue, pushing his hand away, only for him to grab your arm, turning you in one swift motion that has your head spinning, caging you in his arms. His voice vibrates against your back and into your ear: " You are cute, though.” His words are muddled when he kisses your cheek.

“Clingy,” you shoot back as he walks the two of you around their new living room.

He chuckles, squishing your cheeks when he turns your face so he can kiss you.

“Alright,” you argue, ducking your head away when you realize he doesn’t just want a single kiss, “let’s move Mai’s boxes into her room,” you squirm until he finally releases you, “I want her new bed to be built so she can see it and like me more than you.”

He tongues his cheek, “Really?”

You hold your hands behind your back, turning about to portray the picture of an innocent girlfriend, “yup.”

“Okay, let’s make a bet,” he says, eyeing the box filled with pieces of Mai’s new bed frame, a light bulb appearing above his head, “I’ll carry all of the boxes in if you can build her bed by yourself.”

Your eyes pop open, “By myself?”

He tips his head, crossing his arms in expectation of you waving your white flag. But it doesn’t surprise him when you slit your eyes together, lips revealing a pearly smile, “deal, Jeon.”

The two of you become lost in your work. At first, the tasks sound unfair. You build while Jungkook unloads the truck; easy! But when you peer out of Mai’s soon-to-be bedroom window every so often, you realize Jungkook received the short end of the stick. The edges of summer are making their way into the city a little early, and today the sun is blazing. Jungkook abandoned his shirt an hour into it, tying it around his head so the sweat wouldn’t drip into his eyes.

You purse your lips, the sun rays doing a fantastic job at highlighting your boyfriend’s sharp muscles.

Building and a show?

“What are you smiling about?” Jungkook appears with one of Mai’s boxes. You’ve been caught in a daydream and stutter your way out of it.

“Oh-uh, how glorious it’s going to be when I finish this first and get to sit back with Bam while you unpack that truck,” you lie.

Jungkook squats in front of you, “I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” you tap his nose with the flathead screwdriver, “I can love you and relax at the same time, can’t I?”

Jungkook laughs it off, leaning forward for a kiss, and when you motion to meet him the rest of the way, he dodges you and stands upright, laughing his way out of the room and leaving you with puckered lips and a curse to his name.

But who gets the last laugh? You think to yourself as you stand over Mai’s completed bed some hours later. Hands on your hips, Bam prances in and bumps your wrist with his nose.

“Not bad, huh, bud?” You press his floppy ear between your fingers, caressing his favorite spot, “let’s go rub it in your dad’s face.”

It wasn’t long ago that you heard Jungkook moving boxes into his bedroom down the hall, retracing his steps toward that room with a trophy smile on your face and a taunting remark at the helm, “Kook?”

All of that seeps away when you find him lying back on his naked mattress, hands folded on his stomach, and t-shirt back on. The sweat has since disappeared from his hair and his skin hasn’t a trace of red tint from the sun. He pokes his head up, “Finally.”

Your mouth drops open, “How?”

He laughs, head falling back and eyes relaxing, “You were so concentrated on finishing her bed, I didn’t want to bug you, but I enjoyed my forty-five-minute nap while waiting for you.”

You blink, mouth tightening when you hear a tapping sound.

“Winner gets cuddles,” he sounds off, his hand patting the space next to him, “come here.”

You stubbornly cross your arms instead. After a few seconds that feel like a lifetime, Jungkook sits up on his elbows. “Or I can toss you over my shoulder and tickle you instead, your choice, baby.”

You drag your feet over to the bed, crawling next to Jungkook but not before pushing him back down with a forceful thud against the pillowy mattress. You lay back in a huff, ignoring the way he’s snickering at your sore-loser mentality.

He clears his throat, “waiting…”

“Tch-” you throw your arms straight up into the air, allowing him to curl into your side, his arm lying across your chest, and head resting right next to yours. He lets out a contented sigh when you drape your arms around him, smirking when he feels your fingers card through his hair. As much as you hate losing to your boyfriend, the sore feelings never last when he cuddles into you like this.

You can feel him watching you, and you turn to playfully argue, but the twinkle in his eyes spark a fire in the pit of your stomach that makes you forget everything.

Before you can say anything, Jungkook is bringing your head closer to his until he pecks your lips. “Thank you for building her bed,” he says in a mindful tone; “I hoped we would do it together, but you looked determined.” His fingers threaded in your hair start to massage your scalp.

“I was,” your voice almost doesn’t make it out, making Jungkook giggle. He hums into another kiss against your lips, moving to hover over you this time. His hand is imprinted into the side of your neck, thumb sweeping across your jaw until it’s pressed against your chin.

It’s like pulling teeth when he moves away to take in your expression, your body hurdled into a war despite becoming pliable to his touch, your hand having inched a good distance beneath his shirt, but he has to see your face first. Neither of you says anything, allowing you to hear the alarm going off in your head.

Jungkook closes the gap, body on top of you. His lips brush against your skin, leaving it to tingle when he latches onto your neck. His hands move lower, seeking out the hem of your shirt.

You start to frown when he’s successful, moving his fingers underneath the material, effectively causing the imaginary alarm to blare around you. Mind aware and heart battering in your chest, you pull your hands away from his stomach and find his wrists, gripping them so tightly that Jungkook hisses.

“S-stop,” you say against his mouth, and Jungkook reacts with a cat-like sense, pulling back; “we have to stop.” He places his hands on either side of your head while his eyebrows knit together. You let out a shaking breath, pulling his arm up and away so you can roll off the bed and onto your feet.

He breathes a broken apology, “I misread-”

“I-um,” you’re chasing after steady breaths as you smooth your hair down, “it’s almost time to pick up Mai.”

Jungkook sits back on his feet, trying to hide his confusion because he can feel it from you. For those few minutes, you and Jungkook are finally on the same page.

Both of you aware there is still another hour or so before she gets out of school, he nods anyway.

After eating dinner together on a blanket in the middle of their empty house, Jungkook practically has to chase after you when you go out to your car. He’s impressed, albeit a little hurt too, at how quickly you get in before he can give you a proper goodbye. But not wanting to tip off his daughter that something weird is happening, he just waves as you back out of the driveway.

“Did you leave your homework out so I can check it?” Jungkook asks Mai once back at their old house, tucking her into bed.

Mai rolls her eyes, answering him like she has been interrogated, “Yes, Dad.”

He clamps his hand over her face, gently jolting her head side to side until she’s laughing, both of her hands wrapping around his wrist, “might want to re-think the way you answer me, bud.”

“Sorry,” she finally says once he releases her. He kisses her cheek, steeping in the few seconds she reaches her arms around his neck for a hug before he wishes her sweet dreams.

He falls onto the sofa with a loud huff, wine glass in hand, while the other is patting Bam’s thigh. There is hardly a time he didn’t enjoy having you there with him. Some nights with the two of you snuggled under a blanket watching a scary movie, others spent talking out in the backyard until it was time to go to bed, and the rest, kissing until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. Admittedly, he enjoys those nights because he can watch you sleep for a little bit.

But tonight, he needs the time alone, even if his mind is ravaged with worry. The worry that started as a seedling the night you told him you weren’t ready was only growing. It started to sprout when you mentioned marriage.

Jungkook is more than willing to wait; that isn’t a question. Is it hard?

He sighs, eyes clamping shut; it is very hard. And not because he can’t control the need in him, but because he loves you. He wants to express that to you, and if he knows you at all, he can sense the same in you.

So what was stopping you?

His eyes pop open, temples throbbing when the answer bleeds into his brain.

Flashes of you throughout the years replay in front of him like an old film strip. Recalling the time after you both confessed, when you described to him the sheer aches in your body any time he talked about some date he went on. Or how sick you felt when he would leave a club with another woman running her nails against his back.

He curses when a vivid memory invades him, it doesn’t matter how tightly shut his eyes are. He can still see the look on your face.

After a night out with friends, you were ready to call it a night. Jungkook never carpooled, considering his after-party plans always varied. You roll your eyes at the thought, forcing it away because, at least for one night, he actually wanted to stay with all of you.

With your friends gathering their things, you ask Nic for her keys so you can wait in the car. She tells you Jungkook asked for them a little bit ago- something about a co-worker calling him, and he needed to take the call somewhere quiet. After two failed attempts at calling Jungkook, you text him this time.

[1:04 AM] to Jungkook: we’re coming out now, meet us at the car.

Off you go, surprised because, as tipsy as you are, you remember where it’s parked. You grimace as your feet pound, swollen from a night of dancing, as you make your way over. Spotting the car, you don’t see any sign of Jungkook, assuming he is already sitting in the back.

Pulling at the handle, you don’t hear the heavy breaths and sounds of ecstasy at first (also escaping you is the sheer terror that puts a stop to those noises when they hear the car door swing open).

It’s only when you bend to get into the backseat do you lock eyes with a friend of a friend before noticing her wrinkled dress. Worse, though, is when you look over a few inches and see Jungkook’s wide eyes blinking back at you.

All of you curse apologies before you slam the door shut, making for the building in a desperate jog back to the group. You can no longer feel the splitting pain in the heels of your feet, or how tired your legs are. You’re certain that how you just found your best friend, in a very compromising position with this woman, has sobered you up completely. Going amiss is the way Jungkook is buckling his belt and calling after you when he and the friend hastily fix themselves before stepping out of the car.

He abandons his glass of wine, dropping his head back against the sofa.

Jungkook wants you. He has so much he wants to prove to you. He wants to know what scares you but what he doesn’t expect is how vulnerable he’s been feeling. Marriage? He doesn’t disagree that there are still things to discuss.

He wonders if that ache in your body that you felt all that time ago is the same feeling pressing against his bones now.

“I know that look all too well.” Your mom walks back into the living room, finding you sitting with a cat in your lap, your attention taken by the ceiling they just had redone.

She meets your eyes with a knowing smile, patting your knee when she sits at the other end. The cat stretches and abandons you for her mother; “traitor,” you pout, lovingly swatting her fluffy tail. She spares you a single blink before cozying into your mom’s lap.

“Out with it,” your mom forwards the conversation. You want to laugh, hearing yourself in your mom.

Your fingers tingle with nostalgic feelings of a hormonal, teenage girl. Your mother can see the way you begin to blush beneath your skin, her senses causing her to draw back in a way that she knows can draw you out.

“Jungkook and I-ehm-” you struggle to start, “uh-we’re coming to our first- pothole? In our relationship, but it’s-ugh, it’s a big pothole, Mom.”

“Okay,” her eyes carefully observe you and the way you retreat into yourself. The daughter she raised, who is naturally so modest, so much so, you didn’t tell her when you first started your period until a week later; “something that has you feeling- hmm- nervous, maybe?”

“Mm,” you hum, picking at your fingernails despite the fresh manicure you just had done, “it’s weird, mom.”

She chuckles, “You want me to turn away while you tell me?”

Your expressionless eyes find hers in a deadpan. She presses her lips together apologetically, remembering all those years she would do so whenever you had something embarrassing to talk about with her. She chuckles when you nod before looking down at the purring cat in her lap.

You drop your face into your hands and laugh, though nothing about this is that amusing to you, “god if I can’t even talk to my own mother about it, how am I ever going to do it.”

“Honey,” your mom spats, “maybe start by using the proper terminology for it, you’re an adult for heaven’s sake, just say, ‘mom, I’m having trouble with the idea of making love-’”

“Oh, mom,” you grimace, covering your ears like a child, “please, I remember the crash course you gave me on proper sex terminology when I was in high school, okay?”

Your mom laughs, patting the cat’s behind until it jumps off, “Oh, you are too modest for your own good- okay okay.” She moves over to you, pulling your hands away from your head and placing them in your lap, “I’m all ears- whenever you’re ready.”

You drop your head back, resting it against the back of the sofa.

“I’m not going into grave detail-”

“Nor do I want you to, sweetheart,” your mom cuts in.

You close your eyes, lips tipped into a half smile, while your skin boils with sheer embarrassment.

“You and Dad- did you guys wait until you were married?” You’re surprised when the question makes it out into the open air. Your mom is quiet, pulling you to look at her. She answers with a simple shake of the head.

“How did you- when did you know you were ready?” You ask.

Your mom tips her head to the side in a thoughtful manner, “he proved to me long before that I was safe with him, his actions said a lot more than any of the sweet words other men used prior to when I was with daddy.”

Your eyes widen at the thought of your mom’s previous love life, abandoning that thought before it produces further in your head.

“I don’t feel unsafe with Jungkook,” you start to think more deeply, “he makes me feel heard, seen, and very wanted-” you breathe a soft laugh.

“Good, it’s what you deserve,” your mom nudges your chin with her knuckle, winking at you when you look at her, “but it’s okay if you want to wait until marriage honey, and Jungkook is a good man, raised with a lot of love, and by the way he could hardly take his eyes off of you the last time we were together, I can see he loves you and respects you. He’ll wait if those things continue to motivate him.”

You know those truths, you believe them. Jungkook is a good man who had a colorful love life that he readily abandoned for you. You know how understanding he is and to some degree, you know he would wait. Marriage. You want it, you want it with him, but Jungkook’s seeming hesitance to it makes the knot in your stomach grow.

“We’re human, we have natural desires, especially when we are in love with someone, and that’s okay too.” Your mom lifts her eyebrows when you give her a certain look, “What is it that’s making you hesitant?”

“What?” Your tired expression is clear on your face, causing Nic to push her hand against the door when you move to close it; “I am here to pull you out of your hole of self-pity,” she quips.

You sigh, too worn to put up a fight. She returns the same expression as she walks into your apartment, turning to face you when you shut the door behind you.

“You have to stop this, this isn’t healthy for you or for Jungkook, who has no idea why you’re ghosting him,” she parrots the same lecture she’s been texting you for the last week. You don’t respond, tilting your head to the side while you cross your arms.

“Seriously-”

“God, Nic, I don’t care, okay?! I told you this would never go past what I am choosing to keep to myself.” You spat.

Nic calls your name desperately, “Do you really believe that?” She waves her hands to keep you from answering that, “Okay- whatever if you do, but how do you expect your friendship with Jungkook to last when you randomly cut him off like this? I know he’s annoying, it can be questionable the number of women he sleeps with but it’s his life. Like, come on, the guy has zero clue about your feelings. So he’s going to keep doing what he does best if you never tell him.”

“Nic-”

In her frustration, Nic, who is usually sound, has come to her wits end about it; “This is a waste of time anyway, the guy can’t commit to a single thing.”

You inhale sharply, misty eyes looking into your lap. It was the only fight you and Nic had that carried scars, though the two of you worked it out soon after. You apologized for roping her into that mess while she apologized for speaking so thoughtlessly.

“I just want to be sure he is committed to me first,” you admit, voice as small as the pattering feet of a garden mouse.

Your mom nods, pinching her lips together in a sympathetic smile, “I am sure he wants the same thing, sweetheart.”

Busy schedules and tempered feelings create more time away than you consciously intended. While seeing them for only a few hours at a time as opposed to your usual nights with them, Mai and Jungkook are in their last week at the old house. Walking into its near emptiness, you’re glad you brought the things you had to help Mai get ready for the dance.

Jungkook doesn’t outwardly question the recent distance, having filled his time with more open houses than he normally would. He has to remind himself to stay grounded while keeping you in his grasp, while his daughter has been growing quieter by the day.

It surprises him when she jumps into your arms, running her mouth a mile a minute about how excited she is that you both bought matching-colored dresses for the dance. Jungkook barely has a chance to kiss you before Mai pulls you down the hallway to start getting ready.

You curl the last piece of Mai’s hair, feeling her dark eyes fan over you for the umpteenth time through the bathroom mirror. With bobby pins between your teeth, you let out a breathy laugh, combing your fingers through her curls.

“Something on my face, bean?” You twist a section of her hair and pin it to the back of her head, doing the same on the other side of her face.

“Na-uh,” a faint smile wiggles onto her face, hands busying themselves with the hair products strewn across the bathroom counter. Her eyes move up to yours once more, alight with Jeon-like wonder.

You protect her eyes with your hand, “deep breath and hold it,” you instruct her, a cloud of hairspray falling over her perfectly done hair, “there we go.”

Mai opens her eyes and beams back at her reflection, eyes darting up to your face and for a moment, you see that light in her flicker brightly.

“Woah, look at my girl,” Jungkook surprises the pair of you, leaning against the door frame. Mai squeals, pushing past him and running to her bedroom, “You can’t see me yet, Dad!” You and Jungkook laugh; “geez, Kook,” you tease him, pecking his cheek before retreating to Mai’s room.

Jungkook ventures off to his room, getting himself ready to be a chaperone for the dance. An adoring smile appears on his face because any small gesture like the joke you made, gave him hope that the two of you would always be okay. For that minute, he didn’t worry about the right timing or what your future together looked like aside from knowing you wanted to be together forever. Jungkook knew that much.

After taking a slew of photos like it was prom night, the three of you walk into the school auditorium with Mai bouncing in her new dress shoes you bought for her, her hands holding tightly onto yours and her dad’s. She wears a proud smile, missing teeth and all, beaming up at you, she wastes no time begging you for a dance.

“Have fun,” Jungkook motions to kiss her forehead when she takes a large step back. Small voice struggling to voice off above the loud music, “daddy,” she whines through gritted teeth, “my friends are here.”

He frowns, grabbing both sides of her head and planting a kiss on her forehead; “My hair!” She squeaks.

He makes quick work to smooth down her curled tresses, “Deny your dad’s kiss again and I’ll kiss you on the lips next time, bean.” Jungkook playfully threatens Mai.

You pinch back a smile, rubbing his shoulder, before Mai pulls you into the mass of mothers and daughters. Jungkook doesn’t steep in reverence over his daughter’s attitude for long, conversing his way through a crowd of parent-acquaintances before finding a place against the wall where he can watch the two of you.

Lost in that sight, he doesn’t shy away from smiling and giggling to himself. Jungkook pushes his hands inside his pockets, making it a point to silently tell himself to remember this exact moment. A smile stains his daughter’s lips while she looks up at you, and if he concentrates enough, the music disappears, and instead, he hears her giggling when you spin her around twice. Mai’s eyes are shut, lost in a fit of laughter, struggling to stand on steady feet, her arms wrapping around you to keep from falling. Your head tosses back, caught between breathy laughs as your hands hold onto the little girl’s shoulders.

“Mr. Jeon,” a familiar voice calls out to him. Hesitantly, he takes his eyes off you and Mai and sees Mrs. Yoon. He shakes her hand, a warm smile appears on her face when she looks over at his daughter.

“Nice to see her smiling,” Mrs. Yoon admits, “she’s so quiet these days, I almost miss how chatty she was during my class, not sure if her other teachers would agree-” she chuckles, shrugging.

Jungkook rocks back on his feet, agreeing quietly.

“How is her classwork?” He inquires. Mrs. Yoon tells him it still needs improvement, but with more diligence on Mai’s end, her grade should pick up before school lets out for vacation.

The two settle for polite chat before Mrs. Yoon leaves him be. Jungkook finds the two of you again, stomach churning as he recalls that shift in his daughter. How evident it’s become in the last few weeks, especially without you there as often.

But tonight, he smiles, watching his daughter. No traces of her unexplained silence or that she is a little less talkative and hyper. He just sees Mai, the light of his life.

A laugh slips out of him, drawing others around him to look in the direction his eyes are fixed. A new song starts to play, and Mai jumps when she realizes what’s playing. Her mouth rounds, arms sticking straight up, “It’s our song!” She shouts at you.

Your lips curve into a wide smile, heart palpitating because she remembered you telling her months ago that this song reminded you of her. Mai screeches with glee when you lift her into your arms, her arms tying around your neck. For a moment, a toddler Mai appears right before your eyes, and you remember how her hands could not quite yet reach each other when she held you around your neck. An unexpected rush of love swells your heart just like it did all those years ago.

Mai giggles close to your ear as the two of you sing the lyrics together. You pull your face back to watch her expressions; her happiness creating an insurmountable feeling of ecstasy. It’s overwhelming and everything you need. Holding her in your arms, you hope it’s the same for her.

Jungkook blinks away the tears spilling in his eyes, his cheeks hurting from how long he’s been smiling. He starts singing the lyrics to distract himself, recalling that night.

It had become a tradition of sorts, ending dinner out in the backyard so Mai and Bam could use up the last of their energy. You and Jungkook would watch them, sometimes joining in on a game of tag or hide and seek.

He looks at you for a second, smiling when you start to giggle. Your eyes watching Mai; “what?” He asks.

“Hm,” you chuckle, “this is my ‘Mai’ playlist,” You turn to look at him, revealing a bashful smile, “this is our song.” Jungkook makes an effort to listen to the lyrics that utter sentiments of an enchanting meeting.

Before the song can end, Jungkook makes his way over to the two of you, making himself the only dad out on the floor.

He brushes his hand down Mai’s hair who was too lost in hugging you while the rest of the song played.

“Oh, hey,” you chuckle, Mai’s cheek still pressed against yours. Mai is quick to move her arm around Jungkook’s neck, pulling him close until his nose bumps your other cheek. The three of you giggle, making room for an extra set of feet. Jungkook settles to wrap you both in his arms, his left arm hugging your waist while the other rests around Mai’s.

He kisses the side of Mai’s head, a long sigh slipping past his lips when he finds you, your eyes already on him. You hear a few clicks of the school photographer’s camera nearby, allowing them to capture this moment of the three of you. Mai sings along to the song while holding onto the two of you, you and Jungkook sharing in a silent conversation. But you can hear him loud and clear, the love he has for you reaches across and ties around your heart.

“I love you, bean.” You press a long kiss on her cheek, coming back to see a blushing little babe, “thanks for taking me to the dance.” Mai holds your cheeks, showing you her smile because she knows how much you love to see her missing teeth, “love you,” she follows.

“You have fun?” You chuckle, tucking the comforter around her.

She nods, “I think we danced the best,” she yawns. Brushing her hair out of her face, you push your finger into her cheek, “We did, you’re a great dance partner.”

Jungkook appears with a soft giggle, his shirt untucked and feet now bare. He comes over to say goodnight, bending down to kiss Mai before sitting on the edge of the bed. For a moment, it’s quiet, you notice Mai look up at you then back at her dad.

“I need to tell daddy something,” she starts, “but you can’t be here.”

You roll your lips in, trying not to laugh before granting them their privacy.

“What’s up, bud?” Jungkook leans over Mai’s legs, propping his head against his hand.

“Mm,” Mai purses her lips, “it kinda’ felt like-” he can see her cheeks growing red, eyes struggling to meet his. He assures her with a smile, reaching over to brush his finger across her chin, “You feel happy?”

Mai nods, pulling her blanket up to hide the smile growing on her face, “It felt like I had a mom.” Her words come out quickly and muffled behind the blanket.

Jungkook’s heart stutters, finger tapping against his daughter’s cheek, “yeah?”

Mai nods again, “but don’t tell her.”

Jungkook drops his head, laughing into his daughter’s mattress.

He kisses her goodnight once more, allowing Bam to sleep with her for the night. Mai rests her small hand on top of Bam’s head when he lies on her stomach. His puppy eyes looking up at Jungkook; “just tonight,” he reiterates.

You stare at your phone, re-watching a video of you dancing with Mai that one of the moms sent to you. Jungkook slides his arms around your waist, causing you to jump up, “god,” you laugh with him, leaning your head back when he kisses you there.

“What’s that?” He muffles into your hair, twisting his head around to kiss your cheek before he’s resting his chin on top of your shoulder. His hands glide across your stomach when you play the video.

You feel his chest bounce against your back when he giggles, “Guess I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed watching you guys,” Jungkook admits. You turn your head to look at him before kissing his forehead.

It doesn’t take much for Jungkook to become lost in you, completely wrapped up and overtaken by absolute love. His lips hardly detach from yours when he turns you around in his arms. Heavy breath fanning over your face. Admittedly, you can’t deny what he stirs up in you. These feelings that battle against the fears demanding to be felt by you.

He groans against your kiss, pulling away to drop his forehead against your shoulder. You bite your lip, knowing already what’s starting. You rub the back of his head.

He reappears, his pupils blown out into hundreds of tiny hearts, “I love you,” he blushes, breathy chuckle escaping him, “this is going to sound like the douchiest thing I’ll ever say to you but, I love you so much it’s starting to hurt.”

A battle of tug of war starts inside of you, one end of the rope tugging you closer to Jungkook. You rub your palm down his cheek, your soft laugh falling in his ears, “it’s a little cringe but-” you shrug, your other hand dropping around his hip, “I love you, too.”

He closes the space, seeking out your lips. That rope inside you tugging you back when his palms smooth over your hips before pressing into them with his fingers. He walks backward until your lower back hits the kitchen counter.

“You’re so good to us,” he whispers into the kiss he’s pressing against your ear. Biting your lip, your hands push against him- everything in you wanting to give in. And for a moment, with your boyfriend’s lips trailing down your shoulder, you feel that wall begin to crumble brick by brick.

“I love you,” he parrots against your skin, tattooing you with another chaste kiss.

He stops, pressing his forehead against yours. You fall into his dark pools, a spark in them blinding you. All at once, the bricks build back up, and the need to protect yourself jolts through you like a lightning bolt.

Out of body, you can feel when Jungkook’s hands brush across your bottom, but in your place is another woman. You can’t see her face, you just know it isn’t you. He’s holding her close, his lips tantalizingly grazing her skin.

“Kook,” you stutter.

He moans in response, lips pressed against your clavicle, warm tongue pushing beyond the seam of his lips. A different woman appears this time, body stamped with Jungkook’s languid and thoughtful touches.

Your mind wages a war between the man in love with you and the man from the past.

He doesn’t commit. He loves you, but he won’t commit to you.

“Jungkook,” you push with more fervency, but you see the haze over him. You see that look in his eye that he’d given countless women on your nights out as friends. Just friends.

“Stop it-” you push him away, and his body gives at the first sound of panic in your tone. His hair is disheveled, lips stained with you.

“What-” he tries to piece together some sort of understanding, breathless.

“Don’t you listen?” Your tone is so defensive, it causes a piercing pain inside of him. Your shoulder hits him as you make your way to the door.

He drops his head, eyes clamped shut, while something bigger brews inside of him.

Of course, he hears you. He always hears you. Not having you, that wasn’t the entire problem.

All of these thoughts ravage his mind, and he follows you like a trailblazer, shutting the front door before you can escape.

“What are you doing?” His irritation only sets yours ablaze.

You pull your arm away before he can touch you, “trying to leave-”

“No,” he struggles through frustration, “why are we skirting around this? Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I have the right to say no-”

“Baby,” he tosses his hands in the air, an exasperated laugh falling out of him, “shi- of course I know that. But I’m at a loss, we’ve been all over each other enough times before, what changed? Kissing you is starting to feel like I’m forcing you-”

You shake your head, “I’m not one of your women, Jungkook, don’t treat me like them.”

His face falls, everything on his body falls; your name draws out of him, “I’ve never seen you as anyone else but the woman I love-the woman I have so much damn respect for…”

“Then commit to me,” your voice shakes out of you, surprising even you, “prove to me that that’s true and tell me you’d want to marry me.”

Jungkook drops his head, tongue pushing into the side of his cheek.

A tempered laugh falls out of you, “or should I sleep with you first? Would that make it easier for you to commit-”

“What are you-are you serious?” Jungkook cracks, “How much more can I prove to you?” The shattering in his eyes bores right into you, “Do I need to tattoo it onto my chest-” he grabs the collar of his shirt and yanks it open, “to prove to you that I love you and I am dedicated to you? Wh-why do we need a stupid piece of paper to prove our love for each other? What does it matter if you can’t trust what I’m saying- if you can’t trust me?”

“Why don’t you want to get married? Why is it stupid?” You rap back.

“Because!” He yells out of frustration, hands tossed forward, “I’m afraid you’re just going to leave me! What good does a paper do when you can’t even stand me touching you? It won’t make you stay-” his words drop like an atomic bomb, an eerie silence following.

He sniffles, barely able to look in your direction. Your hands ache from how tightly fisted they are, chest weighed down from holding back the tears inside.

“Just go,” he opens the door, “if you really believe I’ve only seen you as some other woman this entire time, still? Then leave.”

You blink, flashes of the past taunting you before you escape to your car. Jungkook stares at the door after you leave, defeat washed over him.

Jungkook throws himself into packing up their house and moving into the new one. Between work, taking care of Mai, and moving, he isn’t allowed to think about anything else, too tired by the end of the night to lie awake in bed. The only time he entertains a thought about you is when Mai sleeps in her brand-new bed for the first night.

Jungkook sends you a picture of it, Mai giving a thumbs up, sitting at the head of the bed you built for her. A second later he FaceTimes you and for a moment you hesitate to answer, waiting to the last second before you hit that green button.

Mai’s face appears on the screen, you notice the downward turn in her eyes immediately before she’s distracting you with a loud thanks. Her smile makes the butterflies in your stomach come alive.

When she’s done talking, she hands the phone back to her dad. His eyes struggle to keep their focus on you while he tells Mai to get under the blanket, “We’re uh- we’re still good for next week?” He finally looks at you. You nod. He has a brief trip for a seminar, leaving Mai to stay at your apartment for a couple of days during the week.

“Can we bring Bammie-” Jungkook is already cutting Mai off, telling her he’ll wreck your apartment by his sheer size. You chuckle, enjoying the father-daughter moment before Jungkook tells you goodnight. He stalls for a second, running his teeth over his lips like he does when he’s thinking about something.

I love you.

“Goodnight,” you fill in the gap before hanging up.

“Listen,” Jungkook starts, and Mai can hear the immediate stiffening in his tone when he sits next to her, the double-size mattress allowing him the space now, “just because you’re sleeping over there doesn’t mean you stop doing your homework-”

Mai whines, her head falling back dramatically. Jungkook tells her to sit up, holding his hand around her neck when she lulls it to the side, “I am serious Mai, this is the third time I’m meeting your teacher about your schoolwork, enough is enough.”

Mai whips out of his grip, wiggling beneath her blanket and pulling it tight so he can’t get to her. Jungkook sighs, “You know we can talk about anything that might be upsetting you, right?” He looks down as she thins her lips, big eyes avoiding his stare.

“What’s gotten into you? Somethings’ gotta be going on, bean…” His worries expand, wondering if he’s missed a tell-tale sign because he’s been so distracted trying to keep his relationship with you intact. The doubt he has about being a good enough partner for you is taken by his doubt as a father. A doubt he hasn’t felt since Mai was born, even now, it runs deeper.

“Nothing,” Mai mutters, hugging one of her stuffed animals against her chest, “I wanna sleep, Dad.”

Jungkook nods, blinking slowly, “I love you…”

Mai turns away from him, pressing her head into the pillow, “love you.”

For a few minutes you enjoy watching Mai eat her snack, missing the way she can’t normally sit still and talking with a mouthful. She still smiles when she finds you looking, but there's a lack in her eyes that has you wondering the same questions her dad does.

Her eyebrows raised as she tosses a baby carrot in her mouth, “Are you and Dad gonna break up?”

Your eyes widen, “I see subtlety is not your strong suit, smarty pants…how do you come to these conclusions?”

She rolls her eyes telling you she has no idea what that means before bringing her point home, “you and dad were yelling after the dance and dad never yells unless I’m in real big trouble,” she emphasizes with her eyes, “or when Bam used to poop in the house except dad scared-yelled then, not angry-yelled. I think Bammie is his favorite now-”

“Mai,” you laugh, “really?”

Mai pokes out her bottom lip, tipping her shoulder up in a very matter-of-fact way.

A smirk leans across your lips, “Need I remind you, you are seven-”

Mai holds her hand up after taking a big bite of the sandwich you made for her, a little bit of mayo left on the corner of her mouth, “almost eight!”

“Yes, but you’re still a kid who needs to mind her own business,” you say, reaching over to pinch her nose.

“Just saying,” she defends herself, “plus, you aren’t staying for sleepovers anymore either…”

You stay quiet, pressing your cup of chilled tea against your lips.

“You probably wouldn’t want to anyways, the new house is sad,” Mai sighs, “everyone is just sad.”

A pang of guilt runs through you, “that everyone include you too?”

She leans her cheek against her hand, “even daddy and me are fighting…kinda’.”

You click your tongue, leaning across the counter to be closer to her, “Your grandma has been filling me in - what’s that about?”

She shrugs, mumbling, ‘I don’t know.’

You take in her mostly expressionless face, but her eyes tell an entirely different story of the one she isn’t saying.

“Hey, cutie,” you tap her chin, causing her to look up, “you know I’m here, right? I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” she surprises you with a quick response, “you promised me.”

You comb your fingers back through her hair, “and look, just because your dad and I are dealing with adult things,” you arch an eyebrow to make your point, “doesn’t mean he’s upset with you about it- so maybe go easy on him, hm? He’s just worried about you.”

“If I have to do that, why don’t you do it too for daddy?” Mai retorts. Her eyes shoot open when she realizes what she’s just said, retreating into herself; “sorry.”

You brush the comment away, clearing your throat.

“All he does anymore is ask about my dumb grades,” Mai starts again, pouting this time, “or if I was good in class and nice to the other kids.”

A sympathetic smile widens your grin, “Well, your track record hasn’t exactly been spotless lately…”

“I’m trying still,” Mai reasons, “daddy doesn’t see it, nobody sees it, but hello? I’m still a kid, I can’t do everything!”

You spat, dropping your head because somehow, Mai always finds a way to let her spunk shine.

“Well,” you come around the breakfast nook and stand next to her, “let’s keep trying and do some of that make-up work you have, or else we will both be in trouble.” Mai hops off the bar stool and takes your hand, the two of you walking into your living room.

Jungkook returns from his brief trip with a little bit of hope, having seen how much Mai perked up with you through short videos she sent from your phone or selfies of the two of you posted on your social media.

When he called to check in on the night he arrived at his hotel, there was a moment he thought you would talk. A shift in your breathing had him preparing the words swimming in his mind, wanting more than anything for you to know he is still in this. But somewhere his courage to talk about it was lost, he couldn’t be sure if it was you or him that redirected that conversation before you said goodnight. You both knew a conversation needed to happen. Jungkook makes an effort in a roundabout way by asking you out for dinner a few times. But swamped with two deadlines, working from home conveniently keeps you busier than before.

It’s both surprising and unsurprising when Nic tells you she’s staying out of it.

“You don’t listen to me anyway,” she said in a recent phone call, “because for some reason you like to torture yourself and you’re going to hate me for this, but- you like to torture him too, with silence. I’ve known you two long enough to know your patterns and- wait no-nope, nope nope- I said I was staying out of it, so I’m zipping it…”

You couldn’t deny it.

“I’m pulling up to the school now,” Jungkook tells you over the phone, a sigh dripping from his lips when he puts the car in park, waiting in a line of cars with the other parents, “you’re heading over now?”

“Mhm,” you answer, “just realized I don’t have a key to the new house though-”

He looks down at the extra key he had made for you when the house was officially signed over to him months ago, keeping it on his keyring because he initially planned to ask you to move in before that plan was - postponed? He blinks, coming out of his thoughts, “I’m sorry, it’s been uh-”

“I know,” you breathe. The sound of it eases over Jungkook; “I bought some groceries to make dinner for all of us,” Jungkook can hear you nervously chewing on your lip between sentences, “then I thought maybe-um- we could have some alone time after Mai goes to bed, to talk…”

His lips stretch upward with relief, “Yes, please.” His eyes find Mai who is walking out of the building with her friend. Her friend whispering something close to her ear; innocent little secrets, Jungkook thinks to himself.

He hears you gulp, “Maybe I should save this for later, but I’m sorry and I love you-” Jungkook can feel his heart fluttering, eyes still watching Mai, when the next sight of her has his heart plummeting into his stomach.

Did she just smack her friend?

A few teachers nearby see it, rushing over to the two girls when Mai raises her hand to repeat her previous action.

“What- Mai!” Jungkook stretches his head out toward the open passenger window, the streak of panic in his voice has you almost dropping your phone; “what’s wrong?” You ask in a frenzy.

“I need to call you back.” Jungkook hangs up before you can answer. He rips his seatbelt off and hurries off to the curb in a few brisk steps, grabbing Mai’s arm to pull her away from her friend. The little girl is crying, holding her hand against her head where Mai slapped her.

“What are you thinking?” Jungkook scolds Mai when she starts to cry, pushing against his leg in an attempt to set herself free from his strong grip.

“Mr. Jeon,” Ms. Choi, who was standing near the entrance, called him in a shaking tone, “let’s go to my office, now please?”

Mai’s friend and mother are ushered off to the nurse's room for an ice pack while Jungkook and Mai pile into the principal’s office along with the teachers who witnessed it.

He can’t deny that he just watched his daughter hit her friend, nor does he try, his skin hot with frustration as Mai tries to excuse her way out of it. Her words are jumbled by her erratic crying.

“I’m going to go talk to them in a separate room,” Ms. Choi says, still a little shaken, “give her a chance to calm down while I get their side of the story.”

“Daddy,” Mai cries to Jungkook when the principal leaves the room.

He turns his head, eyebrows straight on his face, “I don’t want to hear it right now-”

“But-”

“When we get home, Mai,” he raises his voice enough to quiet her.

After a lengthy discussion, with little to no explanation given by Mai once prompted, the principal decides she has no choice but to suspend Mai from school for the remaining weeks left until summer vacation. She informs Jungkook that Mai only has make-up work she needs to complete in order to move onto the next grade.

“I hope you understand why we need to do this, Mr. Jeon,” Ms. Choi says in a softer tone, a certain telling on her face before she continues, “I know single-parenting is not easy,” she lets out a heavy sigh, “my-my husband passed away a few years ago.” Jungkook can feel himself crawling beneath her pity, “but we will not tolerate physical violence. We’ve had Mai with us for seven years, and we’d love to have her back for the new school year, but only if these issues are handled accordingly.”

He doesn’t say anything more than agreement and an apology following Mai’s bitter one. His hand fits around Mai’s elbow as they walk back out to their car. She struggles beneath his tight grip, proving unsuccessful when he opens the door for her to get into the back; “you’re being mean!” She yells. Jungkook takes a deep breath, tossing her bag into the back, using all his control not to slam the door shut.

The drive is silent besides Mai’s whimpers, short words uttered that Jungkook is too angry to hear himself. Too confused. The only settling he feels is when you get out of your car as they pull up, a lost expression on your face when the two of you make eye contact.

“Hey bean-” you’re cut off when Mai brushes past you, her tears and anger very evident. You look up at Jungkook when he retrieves her things, his head shaking. You rub his back as the two of you walk up to the door, letting Mai in, who is ready to run to her room.

“Stop,” Jungkook’s voice booms through the once quiet home. Bam, who was eager to welcome all of you, retreats to his bed; “Come back here, Mai.”

Mai turns back at the sound of her dad’s tone, eyes flitting past you, and you can see the embarrassment. You know he wouldn’t talk to her like this if it wasn’t serious, but your heart aches at the way her cheeks start to turn red; “I’ll uh- I’ll start dinner,” you look down at Mai whose arms are crossed, tears still running down her face, “maybe you should take her in your room, Kook-”

“Daddy won’t listen,” Mai surprises you both, her small voice rising in volume, “I don’t wanna talk!”

With wide eyes, you meet Jungkook’s less than pleased ones, though you know he is stirring beneath shock as well; “Mai, you don’t raise your voice at-”

“You don’t hear me, nobody hears me!” She screams at him, hands fisted so tight as she runs off to her room.

Jungkook starts to follow her when you squeeze his arm, eyes begging him to stay. The strain in his face has you feeling for both of them, “give her a minute.”

Jungkook curses, parts of him healed when he feels you rub his arm, “I have a showing, I can’t cancel again-”

You pat his shoulder, “Go, I’ll um-I’ll do what I can here after she cools off.”

Jungkook thanks you with a silent stare, stepping forward to kiss you when he stops himself. For a moment, he’d forgotten about the unsettled ground the two of you are standing on. You grab his hand and rub his palm, “Go, babe.” He kisses the palm of your hand before he rushes out the door.

You busy yourself with dinner, chopping up vegetables, starting the rice, and preparing the meat, while you’ve given yourself enough of a pep talk before journeying towards Mai’s room.

“Bean,” your tone is careful but direct, knocking a couple of times before inching the door open, “it’s just me.” You poke your head in, eyes immediately falling on the bed where Mai is face-planted into the pillow. You have to bite back a smile, moving over carefully.

You stroke her back once before sitting next to her. For a minute, you think she might be sleeping when you hear her sniffle, her small body jolting, which tells you she is starting to cry again. You can’t help but feel a pang in your chest, knowing there needs to be some sort of discipline. But whatever occurred, the sheer pain it’s causing Mai becomes most evident to you.

“You gotta’ come up for air at some point,” you giggle, tears casting over your eyes, “come on, little one.” For that moment, Mai is the tiny baby you need to save.

You continue to run your hand up and down her back, moving her hair out of the way. Mai refuses to sit up for the first few minutes, but when she finally does, her reddened face struggles to find you.

You wipe her tears away and brush her hair back before leaving for a few minutes. Mai’s cries are quieted when you return with a dampened face towel.

You press the warm towel around Mai’s face and to the back of her neck, repeating those motions while the strain begins to seep out of her slowly; “my mom used to do this whenever I was upset-” you tell her.

Mai finally looks into your eyes, her long eyelashes are wet and clumped together. But you can see a slight shift when you smile at her, “always made me feel better.”

You can see the questions in her mind, maybe wondering how well you’ll listen to her.

“Feel like telling me what happened?” You settle into her bed, sitting back against the headboard. Mai stays stiff for a few seconds, eyes wandering back toward you until she’s scooting back herself. Her arm rests next to yours, fingers playing with the fringe around her pillowcase.

Hearing about Mai getting physical and slapping her friend makes your insides jump. You watch her explain what Jungkook must have seen, trying to keep your mind focused on her voice rather than the questions permeating there. It’s only when Mai starts to cry, looking up at you, do you realize something more is creeping beneath her unexplained anger.

So you wait, taking Mai’s hand in yours while she cries, her head finding a place against your shoulder. You know even more how confused her dad must be, and when she starts to talk again, you know nothing could prepare him for this.

“There was a n-new girl in my math class,” Mai is disrupted by a heavy cry, swallowing back as much as she can before she continues, “my friend told her I don’t have a mom-”

The wind is knocked out of you, you shut your eyes, hand accidentally tightens around Mai’s.

“And they all started to make f-fun of me-me,” Mai hiccups.

Your heart shatters when Mai tells you the bullying began months ago, when school started. Thoughtless words meant to hurt her, taunted by a group of kids who were eventually joined by Mai’s friend. You press your lips together, holding back cries of anger and sadness, every emotion becoming a deluge inside of you, just waiting to break free.

But you continue to wait, only stopping Mai to remind her that she can still breathe.

“I called that girl that mean name because during reading time-” Mai finds you again as if to make sure you are still listening and you nod, wiping her tears though they continue to fall, “because she-she would say mean things about me not having a mom li-like they do.” Mai’s face falls against your arm; you wrap your hand behind her head.

“I thought that if-I thought if you came to the dance with me, they would stop because you’re kinda’ like my mom,” her staccato cries jump against your arm where her mouth is pressed.

You turn to face Mai, holding her wet face between your hands, “It didn’t stop,” she cries, “they just got meaner.”

“Mai,” you’re at a loss for words, breath thinning as you pull her into your lap. Her cries deepen when she feels you cradle her in your arms, pressing her face against your chest.

All you can do is let her cry, her tears staining your skin and wetting the collar of your t-shirt, “it’s not my fault-it’s not.”

“No, it’s not bean,” you can’t stop the tsunami from flooding out of her, pressing kisses onto the top of Mai’s head while repeating that truth.

No. No. No. This is not your fault.

Bam finds his way in at the sound of Mai’s sorrow. You hold her as closely as you can, her uneven breaths casting over your neck as she continues to cry there. At some point, her tears become lost with yours as you think about the year she must have endured.

Quietly. Silently.

It all adds up.

“I love you, Mai,” you say in a trembling breath, “I am so sorry you’ve been hurting.”

Pain finds form in various ways, like the way your eyes strain from crying. It moves you to look down at Mai who has cried every tear she can, her eyes pressed closed and swollen now. Your hand has become numb from where it’s stayed around her back, the other brushing through her hair. Nothing else existed in those moments while you held her. The evening of her breath, the tears that eventually stopped, the way her small hand rested underneath her cheek, that’s all that mattered.

Her whimpering slows into short hums as you rock back and forth, the slow movement allowing her to feel the first peace she’s felt in a while. Her long body barely fits in your lap like it used to, but neither of you cares. A few times she looks up at you, before she reaches up to wipe the stray tears you shed yourself.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she squeaks, voice hoarse.

You smile despite it all, “You are worth every tear, bean.” A memory of Mai as a baby, held in your arms, rushes you. She notices the way your eyes water again, causing her to smile this time.

Four teeth missing, you think to yourself.

“We’re babies,” she jokes, hiccuping from the last few cries that still sit in her chest. You lean down and nuzzle your nose against her forehead.

“Hey-” Jungkook’s voice appears, neither of you hearing the front door when he walked in. His eyes lift when Mai looks at him, the obvious face of his crying child clear to him. He then moves over your face as you wipe it dry, noting to himself the way you are holding Mai, much like you did all those years ago when she was a baby and Jungkook asked you to be at his old apartment with them.

“Daddy-” Mai sounds breathless for a moment, rushing out of your arms and into his. He doesn’t hesitate to lift her into his embrace. He questions you when she holds him around his neck, the sound of gentle sniffling starting up in his ear.

“Mai needs to talk to you,” you breathe, and Jungkook can hear the unevenness in your tone. So he walks back to the bed, sitting Mai in his lap when he sits next to you.

Mai looks at you, waiting for that nod of reassurance. Your hand searches for Jungkook’s, wrapping your fingers around his when Mai starts to tell the same story to him.

The sun has fallen, and crickets chirp from their places in the backyard. A smile finds its way on your face, thinking about the security you felt wrapped around you when Jungkook hugged both you and Mai. Once he learned about the bullying, all he could do was hold onto his daughter, bringing you with them. Mai cried with him while you braved your tears away for the time being.

His hand brushes your shoulder when he comes out, slotting himself between your legs this time, his back against your chest. You ease his head back until it rests against your shoulder, combing his hair back with your fingers.

You can see the tears still there and the way he tries to blink them away, eyes searching the black sky painted above you; “I can’t believe I didn’t know this was going on.” Jungkook’s breath is unsteady. It stays quiet for a beat before he sits up, moving to sit next to you, his body leaning forward.

You watch this pillar of a man, the love of your life, crumble. Eyes blinking rapidly to phase the tears away, you touch his back with a cautious hand. His eyes are wet when he looks at you. “I’m trying,” he laughs desperately, “I’m trying my best here because I love my kid.”

“Jungkook, you have been an excellent father. Nobody is expecting perfection, especially Mai. All she wants is your love, and you’ve never been short of giving that to her…” The crease in your brow deepens. “There’s a lot to figure out, and we’ll start by going to the school tomorrow.”

“I called Ms. Choi after Mai fell asleep - gave her a brief explanation,” Jungkook says, “we’re going to meet tomorrow with those kids and their parents.”

“Good,” you brush your thumb over his ear, “I can-I can go, if you want me-”

He’s already nodding before you can finish, “We need you there.” Your heart squeezes at the despair in his voice.

You see it in his eyes that he’s not just talking about Mai. You feel your throat constrict when he doesn’t turn away from you, sitting upright; “god, I’m trying here too - to understand you. Trying to figure out what works best for us because I don’t want this to end. I am committed to you…” All of this rolls out of him.

You bite your lip when it starts to tremble.

“I know why you stopped talking to me all those times back then, when you caught me,” he shakes his head, “I hate thinking about it, knowing now how you felt about me, I get it.” He looks at you, fingers finding yours; “it still hurt though, not having you to talk to or to be around even if it was just for a few days we didn’t talk- I always knew something was wrong.”

The determination to hold your gaze sits bright on Jungkook’s face, traces of guilt in your fingertips that rub across the tattoos on his hand; “I never imagined marriage in my future- and maybe it’s not fair for me to be afraid but,” he lets out a disheartened laugh, wiping his face, “how do I marry someone that runs away before we can face the problem, someone who looks, I don’t know, horrified, whenever I touch her?”

Your eyes fall into your lap, tears dripping much like Mai’s did. Jungkook turns until his knee hits yours, his hand moving to rest on the side of your thigh. It’s love that you feel when he starts smoothing his palm there.

“That night, after I stopped you in your bedroom,” you sniffle, following courage to lift your head and look him in the eye, “I st-started to see all of these women just there every time you kissed me or touched me. They taunted me, made me feel incompetent…” you laugh, tears falling one after the other.

Jungkook loves you with his eyes, waiting on bated breath while you string together every word you can; “Jungkook I want to take the next step but, I have a lot of fears when it comes to that with you and I started to believe there was no other way to commit but get married, an-and I want that too but-” he never takes his eyes off of you as you continue to work through your words, “I’m afraid, I’m afraid that I won’t add up to whatever you are expecting from me.”

He leans in closer and wraps his hands around your neck, moving them across your skin so you can feel him, him - Jungkook- the man you love, “you…that’s all I expect is you, you are all I want.”

Your face falls, and as a wave of relief crashes over you, you realize the thing you feared most held the answer you’ve so desperately needed.

“I respect you,” he continues, dropping his hands to rest on top of your legs, “I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for… I also just love you,” he sniffles a brief laugh, “I want to show you that.”

You move your hand behind his neck, tenderly rubbing his skin, “I-I want to too-I really do. I just-” you sigh, carefully piecing together all you’ve observed about this man over the years, “you don’t have to always be physical with me to show me you love me. Y-your love for me goes beyond how you can make my body feel, Jungkook.”

It’s then he realizes the crutch he’s used for so many years before dating you.

If nobody was willing to accept his love, at least they would accept his body.

But here, sitting with you, having you next to him? For the first time, Jungkook takes a deep breath and lets it all go. You love him for the man he is inside, as torn as he may be in parts, you accept him despite your own fears.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, moving your hand down his arm until it lands safely inside of his. He takes your fingers and threads them through his. “I’m sorry for making you feel like this.”

“I’m sorry too, baby,” his eyes dart up to yours. A tender laugh falls out of you, stomach doing flips as you pull your boyfriend in for a hug. He feels safe wrapped up in your arms, and you revel in the way he leans his weight against you.

“It is us, Kook,” you chuckle into his hair, “if we figured out as friends how to raise a whole kid, we can figure out what loving each other looks like.”

Jungkook sits up, a smile now stretched across his face. For a moment, the sunlight catches that small ring on his lip, causing you to giggle. He puts his hands around your face this time, “and I do love you, I’ll spend forever showing you that.”

Desperate to feel him, you lean forward until his lips catch yours.

“Me too.” You whisper.

With more clarity, life doesn’t stop the three of you from moving with the whirlwind of constant motion. Mai’s summer vacation starts on hopeful ground, but the matter between those kids and Mai is brought to an abrupt end when Mai’s friend confesses to everything. Within that first week of the summer month, the other kids follow until the situation is brought to full light. Mai was still reprimanded for hitting her friend, and with tutoring sessions once a week, Jungkook’s daughter was already blossoming into the wonderful little girl you both have raised.

He marveled at her when she expressed one day that she wanted to move on and start at a different school. “I’m not mad at my friend anymore, but I wanna make real friends,” Mai said, popping her head up from the coloring book in front of her while you and Jungkook cuddled underneath a blanket, watching a show you had quickly become addicted to. You rested your cheek against Jungkook’s chest, rubbing his stomach when you felt him sigh. A wide smile spread across his cheeks.

You settled for the kind of awkwardness that fell over the kitchen one night when Mai let ‘mom’ slip out when talking about you, soon after she was seeking a hiding place behind her dad, who stood still as stone. After coaxing Mai into your safe hold, the two of you determined that the endearment was to be determined. Mai settled the matter entirely with a reassuring hug that flooded your body with more love than you knew what to do with.

The three of you celebrated with a weekend getaway at the beach after your home business reached its first milestone. You and Jungkook chasing Mai and Bam, who officially graduated from puppy training school, around the sand. Bam barked after Mai whenever she swam too far from him as he watched her from the shore with you next to him, wanting his little, loyal companion to be by his side at all times.

In the last month of Mai’s summer vacation, you often found yourself observing the little girl in silence. Wondering what on earth life would’ve been like if she had never come to be. It didn’t matter how; it just mattered that she was here, born to a father who was once so terrified but now he walked this tightrope with his daughter safe in his arms. And a dog to boot.

There were several nights of tears following her experience of being bullied, some nights when she muttered words of a lost identity she would never know because of her absent mother, something far too complex for a young girl to comprehend. You were there for all of them, sitting there with her and Jungkook and taking in every ache Mai had to share. You assured both of them you would continue to be there for the years to come. It wasn’t easy, and there were times Jungkook had no clue what to say. But where words failed, he mended her wounds with long hugs, cuddling her to sleep with you hugging Mai on the other side of her bed.

Once she was safe in her dreams, you and Jungkook made it a point to be together. Learning the comforts of intimacy in other ways drew you closer to Jungkook. Talking about fears when they came up. Working to understand why one was feeling a certain way. Feeling your heart grow in size, the images of his past began to fade away until they no longer existed. Kissing Jungkook became yours again, being held by him - something only you knew with him.

Jungkook steeps in this feeling, as secure as he’d felt with you as his friend, he was starting to understand it while falling for you, it was growing stronger with each day. Watching you fight away those demons, not allowing them to hurt you anymore, he was realizing how prized he was in your eyes. You loved him in a way he never thought he deserved. And as much as he was eager to get to a place where he could share himself with you, he was learning this kind of love needed respect to feel how true it was.

It was still rocky, but there was a clear path forming, and the two of you made sure to remind each other when needed, that it would always be you and him.

Living this life begins to settle into place, it nestles into a part of you that leaves you sure about the decision you’d been mulling over since it was brought up.

“Really?” Jungkook’s face mirrored the childlike glee you saw so often in his daughter, excitement so simple. It made your insides burst when Jungkook lifted you into a hug, “You really want to move in?”

You just nod, lips bunched into the brightest smile that Jungkook knew he would remember forever.

You can’t help but recall that night as you fill your side of the closet Jungkook made for you, unpacking boxes one at a time. Your eyes widen for a moment when you look around you, feeling slightly suffocated by what was left. Jungkook was helping you before he had to start dinner for his parents who would be coming over.

“Baby?” He calls from the hallway.

“Yeah?” You shout, putting a blouse onto a hanger when you hear him enter the closet.

“You forgot a box-“ he says.

“Huh,” you arch an eyebrow, looking at all of your boxes, “no?“

You turn around to look at Jungkook, who’s standing straight like a pin, a dish towel draped over his shoulder. Mai comes in giggling, leaning herself against Jungkook’s legs and hugging him there.

You laugh, “I’ve got them all here…“ Your breath stills in your throat, forcing you to stop when your eyes drop to the small box in his hand.

The sound of your heartbeat pounds in your ears, everything begins to move slowly, “Kook- wh-what is that, what are you do-“

Jungkook lowers to one knee and opens the box to reveal a ring, breath shaking out of him when he starts to speak, “I love you,” a nervous giggle interrupts him, “baby, it’s you and me, it’s always going to be us - will you marry me?”

Mai can’t stop her giggles while yours hiccup out of you, nerves tingling in your fingers, causing you to drop the blouse in your hands, “are you serious?”

All he can do is nod, swallowed by his own nerves, while Mai can’t contain herself.

“Yes- what? Yes, Jungkook,” you start to cry, emotions pulled between disbelief and sheer ecstasy. Mai’s excitement explodes, jumping around the two of you when Jungkook stands and swallows you in a hug. She wraps her arms around your bodies, cheering into her dad’s side.

An unexplained peace rushes you when you pull Jungkook back to look at him. All you can see for that moment in time is the man you love, you see his tears and feel his arms around you. He mouths an ‘I love you,’ that has you doing the same, Mai’s joyous noises pressed into both of you while you share your quiet moment.

You and Jungkook breathe small laughs while setting the dining table when Mai answers the door for her grandparents, shouting, “She said yes she said yes!” Before greeting them properly. Jungkook’s arm wraps around your hip when he goes to kiss the side of your head, “think she’s more excited than us,” he teases.

After dinner, the five of you end the evening out in the backyard, your hand feeling sore from the way Mrs. Jeon and Mai take turns to gawk at your ring.

“Excited to start at your new school soon, bug?” Mr. Jeon gleamed at his granddaughter who sat on his lap. Mai jostles her head with an eager nod, “One more week!” She announces.

Jungkook rubs your shoulder, the three of you laughing. You nestle into his side, enjoying this feeling.

The night grows quieter with ease. Feeling Jungkook’s eyes on you has you nearly forgetting that his family is there too while they coddle Mai.

There is a shift inside of you when you look back at him. All of these months since having that conversation, focusing on Mai’s healing while figuring out the reigns to your relationship together, every measure of his commitment you’ve felt, it overwhelms you. It sits brighter than the ring on your finger, though catching glimpses of it still makes your heart stutter.

This feeling blooms inside of you, it brushes your skin in a tickling rush, causing you to sink further into Jungkook’s embrace.

“I love you,” you whisper to him.

He senses it, uncaring for those next few seconds as he kisses you. With a passing glance from Mrs. Jeon, she just smiles to herself, distracting Mai further.

What’s desired is expressed through fluttering blinks, left to wondering minds between you and Jungkook as you share the rest of the evening with his family. Subtle hints are given through passing touches or the way your fingers sneak beneath the collar of his t-shirt to touch the space below his neck.

“I’m really happy,” Mai tells you once in bed for the night, her small hands mushing your cheeks together.

“You make me happy, bean,” you snort into her skin, causing her to yelp.

“Night, my baby,” Jungkook bends down to kiss her, “sleep tight.”

“I won’t let the bedbugs bite,” Mai repeats their ever-famous tag line before whispering final good nights.

There’s only a breath of space between you and your true love when you shut the door to Mai’s bedroom.

“Hey.” You breathe, eyes drunk with love, and you can see his pupils dilate at the mere sound of your voice.

You chuckle, shaking your head because this man has you wrapped up in safety and love. It takes your breath away and all you want in that moment is to have him feel the same.

Every motion you and Jungkook make is done with utmost consideration for each other. Nerves bind with excitement. Sighs mingled with giggles. When he feels you move in haste, he reminds you there’s time. Allowing yourself to become lost in vulnerability beneath the captor of your heart. Your willing heart becomes exposed because you want more than anything to show every part of it to Jungkook.

He handles you carefully, both with his hands and in heart. Because he knows that most fragile part of you now sits inside his palms. A few times his breath stops when he peers down at you, your hair splayed over the pillows, sparkling eyes beaming up at him. He starts to feel what’s left of those insecurities wash away until they cease to exist.

All he can feel with each tender brush of skin and lasting kiss is pure and absolute love.

A sweet smile spreads across your face when a sleeping Jungkook falls into your sight, his mouth slightly agape. You move your hand up and push your fingers through his growing hair, rolling your eyes because who knows how your man’s hair will look next week.

You always wondered what this would be like. Being the first to wake up, still a little too early in the morning, but the first thing you’re drawn to is the person lying next to you, lightly snoring. How drunk you would feel off the sheer love shared with this person, but of course, the person in mind was always your best friend. Back then, it was a mere fantasy, one you were certain would never see the light of day but would stay buried only in the deepest part of your mind.

Now, nerves tingle through your body and you can feel the sheet laid over your bodies. It feels exciting and still, a little terrifying.

Jungkook begins to stir beneath your touch, groaning. You come to, only to be reduced to a puddle when he wraps his hand around your forearm to pull you close to him. His skin is warm from the mattress, and perhaps lasting traces are carried over from last night.

“So early,” he mutters, kissing your hand that is held in his.

You peer over at the clock on his side of the bed, haze immediately broken when you note the time, knowing Mai will be up soon. The first place she travels to is her dad’s room - your room- for a morning cuddle with the two of you. You hope she never grows out of it, and for a second, your heart aches at the thought of her turning 8 soon.

But today it’s different, and you’re horrified suddenly by the thought of your bare bodies shielded only by a thin sheet. Jungkook opens one eye when he feels you move the sheet off of you, ready to swing your legs off the bed when he stops you, gently holding you by the wrist and bringing you back to the warmth of his chest, “Where are you going?” He whines, his morning voice sits close to your ear.

You push him away despite every part of you craving to stay glued to the love of your life; “Kook, I should get up before Mai comes in here-“ you peel your wrist away from his strong but mindful grip, eliciting a more serious tone from him.

“Hey-“ he proves to be the stronger one, his careful approach bringing you back to him, looking at you with soft, tired eyes. He pulls your chin between his fingers, mouth hovering over yours- that smile, those eyes, he’s irresistible when you hear him whisper, “kiss me.”

And so you do, a few times before he finally looks at you again; “just relax-” his appeal is slow, conscious of you, “stay in bed.“

The part of you that’s scared wants to keep fighting it but the way he’s looking at you speaks volumes to the part that feels safe there. Now, a year ago, when Jungkook was telling you he was in love with you too, and learning what all of that meant in the time following, the sheer terror of intimacy with Jungkook. It ceased to exist right here. You wondered if you would ever make it here, the morning following a night like last night.

Would you wake up steeped in deep regret, despite sharing it with the person you’ve loved for far too long? Or would it be pure ecstasy, a heated blush still rushing through your body as you recall every action.

Jungkook is still holding you close, a glazed look in his eye as he keeps you inside the haven he’s created in his hands, just for you.

You can’t help but smile, knowing you were feeling the latter.

“Baby?” You finally speak, and it surprises him, making him jump. You laugh, cooing over him before apologizing with a kiss to his chest.

“Mhm?” He chuckles, fingers combing through your hair.

“This was perfect,” you draw small circles over his pec, noting the goosebumps that form over his skin from your languorous touch, “you’re perfect for me.”

He stops breathing for a second, and in the next your world is spinning when he moves you to lie on your back as he hovers over you. Your eyes are wide, which makes him giggle, his eyes falling with the sweetest expression on his face. You know he’s feeling blissful.

“You think so?” He queries with a smirk.

You simply nod, reaching up to caress the side of his neck and cheek.

All he can do is respond with a kiss- maybe three. By the time he’s done, you’re left in a giggling heap beneath him, begging him to stop his teasing touches as he runs his fingers up and down your sides.

A light knock at the bedroom door sends him flying off you and nearly off the bed.

Mai’s soft voice follows behind it, “Daddy?”

You rip the sheet away from Jungkook and drape it around yourself, leaving him with nothing but a belly laugh as he watches your panic; “I told you!” You scold him between clenched teeth. He can’t help but find your modesty endearing, watching you run to the bathroom while he finds clothes to put on.

“Morning, bean,” he greets his little girl at the door, picking her up and holding her in his arms for a moment. He loves how she smells in the morning, the scent of her shampoo from last night’s bath still in her hair, how she yawns into his shoulder before croaking a good morning back to him.

She asks for you, and he smiles, “showering,” he answers.

Mai gasps and sits up in her dad’s arms, mouth round as she says, “Let’s surprise her and make her waffles!”

Jungkook kisses Mai’s forehead, beside himself, before agreeing.

So, there are still things you have to get used to. You laugh at yourself while in the shower, lathering shampoo into your hair. A part of you doesn’t want to wash away what Jungkook impressed upon your skin. The way he muttered words of love against your stomach, or how his warm breath tickled your bare shoulder with his future vows to you.

His voice replays in your ear where he kissed you, “you and me.”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #dad!jungkook #bts x reader #bts fluff #i can't wait...series by serendipitous seven

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cressidagrey · 6 months ago

Text

Such A Mystery - Part 5

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Currently thinking this will have like 5-7 parts? (That was a nice fever dream. I am now thinking maybe 8-9?)

Max didn‘t wait until he was back at the hotel to call Colette. He was attached to his phone as soon as he got done with that horrible press conference.

He really didn‘t care what anybody else had to say about that. As soon as he could, he called Colette.

It wasn‘t Colette that picked up though, it was Pascale, her mother.

"Max," she greeted him.

Max was surprised to hear Pascale's voice on the other end of the line. He had been expecting to hear Colette's voice, and hearing her mother instead sent a jolt of anxiety through him.

"How is she doing?" He asked. He didn't need to say more. Pascale understood.

"She's...she's not doing well," Pascale said wearily. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice. "She's been crying almost non-stop since the news broke."

Max closed his eyes, his heart clenching painfully at the news. The thought of Colette crying, of her being so upset and distressed...it was unbearable.

"Can I talk to her?" he asked, desperately needing to hear her voice.

He needed to hear that she was okay, that she was holding up. He needed to know that she was coping.

Somehow.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Max held his breath as he waited for Pascale to respond. He could hear muffled voices in the background, and he knew that Pascale was likely talking to Colette.

"Maxie?"

Colette had cried. That was clearly obvious in her voice, how hoarse it was...how even these two syllable seemed to take so much effort from her, her voice hitching. He could hear her shaky breathing over the phone, clearly her trying to get a grip on herself and not worry him even more.

But that had become impossible the moment George Russell had decided to get completely bananas.

"Hey, liefje," he said softly. "How are you doing?"

Colette's voice caught on a sob, and Max's heart ached at the raw emotion in it. He could practically picture her, sitting in their living room, tears streaming down her face as she tried to hold it together.

"I'm...I'm not okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Max's heart clenched in his chest, and he desperately wished he was there with her. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her. But he could only listen.

"What can I do?" he asked, his voice thick with emotions. "How can I help you?"

He needed to do something, anything to ease her pain and make her feel better. "Do you want me to come home?" He asked her. "I'll do it, liefje. Say the word."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. He could hear Colette breathing heavily, clearly trying to compose herself.

"No," she finally said, her voice sounding a bit more steady. "No, please don't. You have a race tomorrow. You need to focus."

Max's heart squeezed at her words. He wanted nothing more than to hop on the next plane back to Monaco and be with her. But he knew she was right. He couldn't just abandon his team and the race like that. "If you change your mind..." he trailed off.

"No, we are not doing that," Colette said shakily. "Your races are yours, and I'll be waiting once you come home."

"You are more important than any race ever could be," he disagreed sharply. More important than anything else to him. He loved her so much. "I want you to know that."

He needed her to know that.

She had always been a pillar of support to him. Had never questioned how much of his time his career demanded. Had never once thrown it at his head in an accusatory way. She had always accepted it. Had supported him every step of the way, from his first practice in a Formula 1 car, through his first point finish, his first race win, four championships…

She had always supported him.

But no race win…no trophy, no world champion title was ever going to be as important to him as Colette.

He would happily give all of that up, if it meant that he got to come home to her.

He heard her exhale shakily. "I do know that," Colette said softly. "I know that. But...But even if you were here, you couldn't do anything but hold me. Everybody is..." she trailed off and he could hear another hitch in her breath. "Did you...Did you see what Arthur did?" She asked him, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

"I did, liefje," he agreed softly. "He shouldn't have done that without talking to you first."

"Or to you. This is your life too," Colette disagreed.

"Colette," he said carefully. "I don't care that the public knows. You were the one that wanted to keep this private, which was completely alright with me. I agreed to that. It didn't bother me, liefje. But I wouldn't have cared if it was public knowledge either. I am only upset with Arthur because he upset you."

Colette didn't answer. He could picture her sitting on their bed, cross legged, one hand resting on her baby bump…she took deep breaths, clearly trying to keep her tears at bay.

"I just...I feel so stupid," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel so stupid...I shouldn't be so upset by this. But I am and I..." her voice trailed off.

"Hey," he interrupted gently. "You are allowed to be upset, liefje. You are allowed to feel however you feel," he reminded her carefully.

There was a knock at the door and he looked up to see Gemma stick her head into the driver’s room, a grimace on her face. "Can it wait?" He demanded from her, not caring at all, that he was being rude.

"No, it can't. George Russell had some more stuff to say," Gemma said hesitantly.

Colette must have heard it, because he got to hear another choked off sob from her.

"Liefje," he said softly. "I want you to let me deal with this, alright? Don't look online. Don't search it out. Just ignore it. Your only job right now is to take care of you and our baby," he told her fiercely. "Let us take care of the rest."

Colette let out another shaky breath on the other end of the line. He could hear her trying to compose herself, trying to push the sobs back.

Finally, she said quietly, "Okay," in a small, meek voice, and he hated how defeated she sounded.

"Go cuddle with the cats," he told her softly. "Let your Mom spoil you."

"M…Maman’s making hot cocoa," Colette offered weakly, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

It was faint, but it was there. And that was all he could hope for right now."I am jealous," he teased her lightly.

"I'd save you some, but it's too good to share," she teased back before her voice caught on another sob, and he knew that this was it. This was the end of her being able to converse with him.

"Hey," he said gently. "I love you. So much."

"I love you too," Colette whispered in a broken voice. "So much."

Max hated that he couldn't be there, he hated that he had to hang up. He just wanted to hold her, to remind her that everything was alright.

"I want you to do something for me," he told her in a firm voice. "I want you to take a bath. And a long one," he told her. "One of the nice lavender scented bubble bath, I always make fun of you about. And I want you to eat dinner. And I want you to watch some of those stupid tv shows you love, and for you to relax. And rest. Can you do that?"

"I...I'll try," Colette said weakly over the line. He could hear her crying getting slightly worse again, the realization that they were ending the call obviously hitting her.

"And then you will take the best nap. And cuddle with our cats," he continued. "Alright? You'll do all that for me?"

"Yes," she answered him, her voice breaking on that one word.

Max closed his eyes, his heart hurting as he took a deep breath. "I am going to hang up now. I'm sorry, love."

"I know," she whispered, and he could hear the desperation in her voice. The need to keep the phone line between them open. But he knew that she was tired and he knew that she was distraught. And he knew that she needed rest. He needed to let her go.

"I love you," he said fiercely. "I love you so damn much, liefje. I'll talk to you as soon as I can."

"I-I love you," Colette managed back, before her voice broke on a sob again. "More than anything. Please...be careful tomorrow, okay? Be careful."

"I will," he promised her. "I swear, I will be careful. I'll come home to you in one piece, okay? I promise."

"You better," she told him in a wobbly voice. It was half pleading, half joking, and it just about crushed him.

"I swear. I'll try my damn hardest," he promised her. "And when I get home? I promise I will hold you for hours. I won't let you go, liefje."

He hung up on her then. And then he turned to Gemma. "What could Russell possibly have said that I should care about it right now?"

"How about that you have spent the last 15 years living a lie and that he wouldn't want you to date his sister, because your girlfriend probably is the one dealing with all your anger issues?" Gemma offered drily.

Max looked at her in disbelief for a moment, his mind refusing to process her words immediately, they were so completely insane.

"What?" He finally asked, his voice coming out in a disbelieving croak. Gemma handed him her phone, a grimace on her face. And there it was in black written text. Screencaps of statements George Russell had made.

None of it making any sense whatsoever. Max had no idea what the other driver had snorted that had sent him off the rocker like that.

"They tried to get Charles Leclerc to comment as well, but he said it was insulting and that he has not once worried about you and Colette, more the opposite," Gemma said quickly. "Everybody that has ever seen the two of you together knows that it's complete bullshit, Max."

Still. He swallowed.

"I would never lay a finger on her," he said weakly. Not ever.

Colette was...Colette was everything. Colette had been his safe place before he even knew what that was or that he needed one.

He would rather cut off his own hand than to put a finger at her in anger.

Gemma stepped over to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Everybody knows that," she told him gently. "Everyone that knows you knows that you would never. Just like everyone knows that the other stuff Russell has said is nonsense as well."

Max closed his eyes, letting Gemma's words sink in. He knew that they were true. The people in his life, the people that knew him and Colette...they knew that those accusations were completely ridiculous. That even thinking he would ever hurt Colette was laughable.

"But..." he said quietly. "Social media won't care that it's complete crap."

"It'll blow over. You know the online world has the attention span of a goldfish," she said with a shrug. "We'll send the usual suspects to talk to the media tomorrow to make it clear that you neither have anger issues nor that anybody needs to worry about you laying a single finger on Colette," Gemma promised. "I know that this is hurtful, Max, but I think it just makes it very clear that everything that Russell has said has been completely made up."

Max leaned his head against the door behind him, his mind racing, trying to process everything. He knew she was right. That everything she was saying was reasonable. But it still hurt. It hurt that somebody would come at him and his relationship with Colette like that. Especially when it was so clear that they knew nothing about them.

"I'm going to call some people," Gemma told him gently and with a final squeeze on his shoulder left the room.

Max took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, trying to process everything and calm his racing thoughts. He wanted to call Colette again. He wanted to explain again and again that he would never hurt her. That all of this was complete and utter bullshit.

But he didn't want to bother or upset her even more, if she had even been able to rest at all.

And he hated this. He hated this so much.

He really did. He hated that there was nothing he could do.

He hated that the next day was going to be a media circus. He hated that he was going to have to sit in a car for an hour and a half tomorrow, without being able to see or talk to her.

And most of all, he hated George Russell.

Bath. Lavender. Warm Water. And hot cocoa.

She felt like a child again.

Her Maman had been hovering around her all afternoon and early evening, fussing over her when she really didn't need it, but Colette was glad that her mother refused to leave her alone.

Especially when her mother tucked her into bed like she had done when she had been a wayward 6-year old.

"Arthur didn't think," her mother said softly. "He didn't do this on purpose to hurt you."

Colette let out a shaky breath. "I know he didn't," she said thickly. "But I am just so mad at him. And it just...hurt," she admitted. It hurt more than she had thought.

"I know," her mother said softly.

Another shaky exhale, and Colette closed her eyes, just to keep the tears at bay.

"I knew it was going to come out one day," she admitted weakly. "But I never wanted it to come out like this. Not now.”

Bébé rumbled unerneath her skin, striking out to kick against her ribs once more. She laid her hand over where he had just kicked her.

Her mother gently sat down next to her, gathering her in her arms and pulling her close. Colette melted into it and leaned into her Mom with a soft, shaky sigh.

"It wasn't right of Arthur to say anything," her mother told her quietly. "He had no right to share that picture. Nor to talk about your relationship. Not without talking to you about it first."

Colette swallowed back another bout of tears, hiding her face in her Mom's chest. "I know," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "I know, it wasn't his news to share, but...it's still just...it's just so upsetting."

Her mother ran a hand over her hair while the other circled her back in a soft, circular motion. "I know," her mother agreed, her voice kind and soft. "But this doesn't change anything. You know that, right? The important people already knew," she continued softly. "Your family and friends. They all know that Max and you are in a relationship."

A quiet nod, Colette still hiding her face in her mother’s chest, her fingers clinging onto her shirt.

"It's just...." she said weakly. "It still hurts. A lot."

Her mother's arms wrapped around her a little tighter, a gentle kiss placed atop her head. "I know," her Mom agreed again, gently rubbing Colette's back. "It hurts, and it sucks, and it's not fair that he didn't talk to you about it before. I'm sorry, Choupinette."

Colette swallowed again, and exhaled, trying to hold it together. But a few tears escaped anyway. "I just...I just wish that he hadn't. I feel so exposed now," she admitted in a half-whisper.

"I know," her Mom agreed again, letting Colette let out another round of quiet tears. "I know, Choupinette," her mother repeated, gently rubbing her back again, her arms tight around her.

Colette sniffled again, her emotions a tangled, swirling mess, and clung on tighter to her Mother. "I just...I just wish Max was here," she admitted in a broken whisper.v"He asked me if he should come home," she admitted softly.

Her mother’s hand ran gently up and down her back, still hugging Colette tight.

"What did you tell him?" she asked quietly.

Colette swallowed past the lump in her throat and breathed in shakily. "I told him to race. I told him I didn't want him to come home," she said shakily, more tears escaping her.

Her mother hummed quietly and hugged her a little tighter. "Why?" Her mother's voice was gentle and curious, no judgement and accusation to be found.

"Because I fell in love with a 12-year-old boy for whom racing was the most important thing in his life,” she answered, her voice soft. “Max has this...passion for it. This incredible love. And I promised myself then, that I was never going to be the one to take it from him," she explained softly. "I was never going to make him chose. Between me and racing."

And maybe that was also because for years...she had wondered if she was going to be the one of the two he would chose.

Her mother was quiet behind her for a moment, only the soothing motion of her hand rubbing along Colette's back continuing.

And then her mother said, softly.

"You know he would chose you in a heartbeat, don't you?"

Colette buried her face further into her mother, her tears starting to flow again as she let her mother's words sink in.

Because she wanted to believe it. She really, really wanted to.

"He will never need to," she said simply. "He said the same thing but…I would never take it away from him."

Her mother hummed again and tightened her arms around her a little.

"I know you wouldn't," she assured. "But he still wouldn't hesitate, love."

Colette took another shaky breath, trying to keep herself from completely falling to pieces just from the thought of it. It was true. She knew it deep in her bones. Max would drop everything to get to her, if she only asked. And it just made her feel like crying more.

"I just...I just miss him," she admitted in a sniffly voice, her nails digging in her mother's soft shirt.

Her mother's gentle hand was running over her hair again, trying to soothe her as best as she could. "I know, baby," she whispered. "You'll see him soon."

Colette huffed a breath against her mother’s chest, the thought both a comfort and a curse.

She wanted to see him. She wanted to crawl into his arms and just listen to him tell her everything was going to be okay, and believe every single word of it.

Another shaky inhale and exhale, and Colette's hands gripped her Mom's shirt, just to keep from completely falling apart.

It was all so overwhelming, with Max so far away, and just everything in general.

Her breath shuddered again when her mother's arms tightened around her once more, pulling her even closer to her chest, as if she was trying to protect her through sheer force of will.

Colette let her, burying her face in her Mom's soft chest and trying to hold it all together.

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jordynbreeloa777 · 10 months ago

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After a 5 Month Break… I’m back With a Huge Success Story. I MANIFESTED REVERSING A REJECTION LETTER, TO ATTENDING MY DREAM SCHOOL IN A WEEK!

im back and im more motivated then ever. As you guys may know, my last post was 5 months ago as for I did NOT say I was taking a break. Welllll, I HAVE ONE OF MY BIGGEST SUCCESS STORIES YET. Before I left tumblr, I was super into “the void” and wanting to get in. Well no. Lol, Sammy Ingram snapped me right out of that. What I didn’t share was that I didn’t get into my dream school I been wanting to go for 3 years. Me and my sister was suppose to finally be going to the same school, walking on the same campus. Well let’s just say things didn’t go as planned. I didn’t get in, and when I saw my rejection letter my heart broke into a million pieces. I don’t remember how long I cried for. Until I remembered who I AM. I got myself together, and affirmed like a maniac. I affirmed through tears, hurt, through watching and hearing my friends get into their dream schools. I was depressed. I cried in school, at home, randomly throughout the day I was a mess. The 3D was slapped right in my face and even though I saw ZERO MOVEMENT. I had to practice what I preached right? I affirmed through the circumstances because I knew they weren’t permanent. Yes, and though I was sad, mad, it made me want to affirm more. I did 4 10 minute sessions everyday, with one 15 minute session. As well as robotically affirming throughout the day. I couldn’t stand me not going to the same school as my sister, especially since I HATED THE ONE I CURRENTLY WAS AT. If I didn’t get accepted I would have to return back which made me want to persist even more. I deserved this opportunity.

Of course, as the 3D is a mirror it has no choice to reflect your dominant beliefs. One day as I was in the going back home. My mom randomly said “I have exciting news for you.” Of course I asked what it was excitedly. Mind you I was still affirming even when I got in the car. She told me, that the dean of the school I wanted to get into said I still had a chance to get in, and what I need to do to get in. I needed another recommendation letter. WHATTTT? Now I affirmed that my recommendation letter was sooo good, and that my teacher KISSED MY FUCKING ASS in the recommendation letter. Literally this was my affirmations. “ I got into my dream school!” “Whatever teacher writes my recommendation letter kissed my ass, talking about how im such a good student!” Less then a week later my FINAL ACCEPTANCE LETTER COMES IN?? Now I don’t know why I didn’t get in the first time, nor do I care. THE HOW IS NOT OUR JOB TO WORRY ABOUT. WE HAVE ONE JOB. AFFIRM.

Here’s the acceptance letter, as for I manifested the rejection letter being turned into an acceptance letter! I did cross out, private information! By doing this and staying consistent, I manifested in 2 days. This just shows to stay consistent in your new assumption and stick with the new story! Your imagination is your only limit.

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carlottawllms · 1 month ago

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Last Kiss

Mason Mount x Reader Angst / Fluff Autor’s note: SURPRISE 🥳 I’m not back, I’m sorry, but this has been sitting in my drafts for way too long and I once promised @bluesmason to get it done for her, so here we are. This isn’t even close to being my best work, but I promise I tried my best and I feel like it’s on an okay-enough level to be posted.

If you feel like it, let me know what you think. Enjoy! 💕

You’d lost track of how often you’d checked the time within the past 30 minutes, but it had been often enough to realise he wasn’t coming home like he’d promised.

Sighing, you raised your gaze to the ceiling. Tears were burning behind your eyes at the thought of him having forgotten; again, but you refused to let them fall. There had been far too many times lately, that you’d cried because of that dickhead you called your boyfriend.

Not anymore though.

You’d promised yourself that. Yourself and your dignity. You were worth far more than that. You were worth someone making an effort for you. Someone keeping the promises they’d made.

You were worth being seen as an equal part of the relationship instead of just an annoying appendage that kept asking for attention and time.

Because that’s what you’d been feeling more often than not lately. Like someone who was taken for granted. Maid, cook, girlfriend when it suited him. But as soon as you asked him to show the smallest bit of effort to support you, it was too much. You were too much.

But you were done with it.

With a newfound strength, you got up from the table and grabbed the bag you’d oh so wisely packed this morning.

The whole day you’d been praying Mason would prove you wrong and be back in time for you both to leave to celebrate your promotion, but just like the 7 times before, your gut feeling hadn’t betrayed you.

“I tried.”, you whispered sadly when you placed an envelope on the kitchen counter, knowing it was where he was guaranteed to find it once he was back home. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart broke as you let your gaze wander over the kitchen and living room one last time. Many beautiful memories were attached not only to both rooms, but to the whole house that you’d called home for the last two years.

You still remembered the look on his face right before he told you he loved you for the very first time. The two of you had been cuddling on the sofa, you safely in his arms when Mason had pulled away slightly. His eyes had been the softest you’d ever seen them, the nerves evident on his features, but he’d smiled and whispered those three words.

When had he stopped?

For weeks, you’d wrecked your brain, trying to find an answer to that question, but it had been hopeless and you’d come to the conclusion that there was no reason. He’d simply stopped loving you. And you had no idea how to be something he’d miss.

You’d tried – a hell of a lot – but you couldn't do it anymore.

It was time. Time to prioritise yourself; to protect yourself.

With that thought, you hurried down the hall and closed the front door behind you. And with it a chapter of your life you’d never thought you would. There was a time before Mason and there was a time with Mason, but you’d never thought there would be a time after Mason.

You’d never imagined you’d end like this.

Mason was out of breath when he reached his front door. He was late, well aware of it and he hoped you wouldn’t be too mad at him, but the media team had asked him to stay back and take some trial shoots for the newest merch collection. It was his job, he couldn’t just refuse, right?

“y/n?”, he called whilst entering the house. “I’m late, I’m sorry I was held up. y/n? Love?”

But there was no answer, just silence.

“Fuck.”, he cursed, realising you’d already left, but he knew he could still make it if he just hurried a little. You’d said you’d have to leave at 6, but the event wouldn’t start until 8. With it being 7:15 now, it would be a bit tight, but-

His thoughts came to a screeching halt the second his gaze fell on the bright white envelope sitting on his kitchen island. It wasn’t so much the envelope itself that had his heart dropping to his stomach, but the neatly folded hoodie right next to it.

It was your favourite one. The one you’d basically stolen from him the second you’d gotten into this relationship. He hadn’t seen it since…

Mason’s hands shook when he ripped the envelope open and pulled out the handwritten letter you’d left.

When his knees suddenly buckled, Mason just about managed to catch himself and sink down on the chair.

“No.”, he breathed. “No, this…this…FUCK!”

He buried his face in his hands as a sudden urge of anger rushed through him. You had been the best thing that had ever, like ever happened to him and instead of protecting you and this relationship, he’d let it slip through his fingers.

No, he’d singlehandedly fucked it up and pushed you down the cliff. Slowly but surely, he’d let go of your hand and now you’d left for good.

He should’ve seen it coming and done everything to prevent it from happening, but instead he felt as if he’d been watching his downfall from first row:

You were mad; the look on your face more than obvious when he slowly inched closer. You’d just gotten back from this thing with your friends – something he’d been meant to attend as well, but just like the last couple of times, work had held him up.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know I-”

“You promised to be there.”, you said; your voice uncharacteristically cold. “You promised Mason. And yet there I was on my own again. This was important to me. I asked you to be on time this one time cause I wanted you to be there with me, hell I told them you’d be there. And again, you just didn’t care.”

“That’s not tru-”

“Do I even matter to you? Cause right now I feel more like I'm an annoying appendage that's only good enough when it suits you.”

He’d promised it wasn’t what he felt at all. He’d told you he loved you and swore that the next time he’d be there; 100%.

“I swear, I’ll just leave if you do this again, Mason.”

But instead of sticking to his word, he’d let you down – big time. And the worst thing was that he’d done it on multiple occasions: being late, forgetting altogether, cancelling last minute via text.

It wasn’t an excuse, but there had been so much going on lately, he’d simply struggled to set his priorities right.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”, he whispered, feeling like the worst person in the world for failing you like this. Tears pricked in his eyes, but he knew it hadn’t really sunken in yet that you’d actually left.

Not when your familiar scent was still lingering in the air, making him feel as if you’d come home any second now. But you wouldn’t.

“I really fucked this up.” Mason ran his hand over his face before grabbing the hoodie you’d left behind. It still smelled like you, making memories of the first time he’d seen you wearing it resurface:

It was raining when Mason stepped out of the plane and down the ladder, the smell of rain fresh off the pavement one of his favourites, but he didn’t even notice it this time; his mind already set on the only person he wanted to see: you.

You’d called him the night before and told him you’d pick him up so you could spend the night at his after having been apart for nearly two weeks and he’d never been happier.

After making it through passport control, he was quick in hurrying towards the exit and when the sliding doors opened his gaze flitted over the small crowd of girlfriends and wives waiting for their partners.

He knew you wouldn’t be front row jumping up and down, so he focused more on the women in the back and soon enough, his gaze fell on you. Your hair was up in a messy bun, some loose strands framing your face and a small smile on your lips, but what had his heart leaping out of his chest was the sweater you were wearing. It was one of his favourites and he wondered when you’d stolen it without him noticing, but then again, he didn’t really care.

You looked too adorable basically drowning in the fabric and you seemed cosy, with your hands disappearing in the long sleeves.

It didn’t take long for you to notice him, a brighter smile washing over your face almost immediately when your eyes locked and Mason’s heart skipped a beat. You were always beautiful to him, but in that moment dressed in his clothes and those tired eyes on him, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and he couldn’t believe his luck to have you waiting for him.

He hurried over to you, observing the way you said goodbye to Laura before turning towards him. It was obvious how you wanted to jump right into his arms, but feeling everyone’s eyes on you, you held back and waited for him to reach you before wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close.

“Hi love.”, Mason whispered. With his nose buried in your hair, he breathed in the familiar scent of your shampoo. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”, you admitted quietly and after a second of enjoying his heartbeat against your cheek, you pulled away slightly. Head tipped back a little, you gazed into his warm brown eyes. Your fingers played with the short hair on the back of his head and when Mason finally leaned down to meet your lips in a soft kiss, you wrapped your arms back around his neck.

Mason’s heart squeezed uncomfortably in his chest. He could still feel your arms wrapped around him; the way your warm hands would hold onto his shoulders and the way it would feel to have you kissing him.

“Fuck!”

He knew it would be a futile attempt, but he still reached for his phone and tried to call you. Obviously, it went straight to voicemail – if cause you’d turned it off or simply rejected his call, he didn’t know.

But having known you for a while, he knew it would be a futile attempt to reach out to you again today. You were someone who needed time for things to settle. He’d try tomorrow.

There were no tears as you drove through the streets. You knew it would come crashing down on you soon enough, crushing your heart and making you hurt like never before, but in that moment, all you could feel was emptiness.

For years all you’d known was Mason right next to you; holding your hand through every storm and fighting your corner. No matter the fight, you knew at the end of the day, you’d make up and hug it out.

But this time it would be different. He wouldn’t come home and apologise quietly. He wouldn’t smile at you softly and tell you it’s okay and you’d both messed up. You wouldn’t cuddle up on the couch, holding onto each other for dear life.

This time, you were on your own.

When you arrived at the restaurant your boss had rented for this years promotion event, you felt like everything but going in. The thought of the empty seat with Mason’s name tag right next to yours made you feel sick to the stomach and you weren’t sure how to survive the evening.

You’d been looking forward to it for weeks now, excited at the prospect of finally claiming the reward you’d been working your ass off for and the idea of having Mason right beside you…

Well…it wasn’t more than a fantasy anymore.

Despite the positivity of you getting your promotion, it was an awful evening.

You weren’t sure how you’d managed to get through the evening without shedding a single tear considering how badly they’d been burning behind your eyes and threatening to spill over whenever someone asked about the empty seat next to you.

“He woke up sick this morning and couldn’t attend.”, you’d been repeating throughout the whole evening, earning pity looks and encouraging replies that he surely was proud and rooting for you from home.

It had been awful.

After driving around aimlessly for a while, trying to calm yourself down, you eventually parked your car in front of the only house you thought was appropriate.

You knew Anouska or Laura would’ve taken you in; hell you could’ve driven to London to Sophia or Ben, but putting the burden of keeping it a secret on either of Mason’s friends shoulders felt unfair and nothing you wanted to do.

This was something between you and him. His friends didn’t have to be involved.

And your best friend? Well, it was her birthday tomorrow and no matter just how much the aftermath of today would hurt you, you wouldn’t ruin the day for her. So asking her to stay was off the table.

Slowly, with your bag hanging from your shoulder, you walked up the familiar front door. You knew there was no need for it, but it still felt humiliating – having to ask your brother and his perfect family to let you stay cause yet another relationship of yours had failed.

Elliott opened the door with that radiant smile like he always would, but his expression dropped when he spotted his little sister standing in front of his door with red-rimmed eyes and a heavy looking bag in her hand.

“y/n? C’mon in.” He gently pulled you inside by your elbow and closed the door before taking another look at you. “What happened?”

“Can I stay for a while?”

Elliott was quick in nodding. “Course you can. You’re always welcome here, you know that. Do you just…want to, I don’t know, talk about it maybe?”

“I…erm…not really, to be honest.”, you whispered as you could feel the tears already brimming in your eyes again. “It’s just…I…look, Mason and I we erm…broke up and I don’t think I’m ready to…to talk about it.”

“I’m really sorry, y/n.”, he breathed before pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s okay that you don’t want to talk now, but if you ever feel like you need someone to listen, I’m here, okay?”

He kissed the top of your head and squeezed you, causing the tears to finally spill over.

“Thanks.”, you sniffed.

Elliott quickly set up the guest bedroom for you and after he handed you a cup of your favourite tea, he left you alone and when the door gently snapped closed behind him, leaving you in a safe place for the first time this night, you broke down.

It all came crashing down; the disappointment, the loss, the all-consuming pain you felt all over your body, but especially in your heart. You’d been through break-ups before, but not a single one of those had been as painful as this one.

The heartbreak over the only person you’d ever truly loved in life just hit harder.

Mason had been your everything – your best friend, your rock, your safe haven. Knowing he’d never judge you or think less of you, you’d never felt the need to pretend when you were around him. He’d made you feel safe and secure in yourself; he’d talked you up, fought your corner and showered you in as much love and care as you did him. He’d been the most perfect human being you’d ever come across.

And he’d been yours as much as you’d been his.

Sighing, you forced yourself off the bed and into the shower, convinced it would make you feel better, but when you stepped out of the steaming bathroom and rummaged through your bag for some comfortable clothes, the only thing you found was an oversized, dark-blue hoodie.

Mason’s.

Packing your bag, you hadn’t even noticed you’d grabbed it. It must’ve been out of habit really, as you never left with one of his hoodies, considering how comfy and big they were.

Sobbing quietly, you buried your nose in the fabric, hoping it would still smell like him and when it actually did, your heart clenched painfully. You tried your best to calm yourself down as you didn’t want to alert your brother or his wife, but the overwhelming sadness made it difficult to breathe.

“I miss you so much.”, you choked, sinking to your knees. You clutched the hoodie to your chest. It wouldn’t bring Mason back, but it felt a lot like keeping your heart from breaking even further apart.

With the piece of fabric in your arms, you just stared at the wall, wondering where you’d go from here. What would you do now that you’d lost him?

You felt like all of sudden you knew nothing anymore. With Mason everything had been so obvious and so easy, but now that he was gone you just felt all over the place. Should you stay in Manchester? Or go back to London?

What if he was going to fight for you? And what if he wasn’t?

You had broken up with him, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for him to give up on you.

How could you be something he’d miss? Miss you properly, like you were missing him.

The tears had dried on your face when you eventually felt strong enough to get up and hide away under the bedsheets. Not that relocating made any difference as your thoughts still surrounded Mason and Mason only.

You wished there was a way to fix things. You wished Mason would somehow, miraculously fix it like he’d always done.

Throughout your relationship, there had hardly been anything he hadn't been able to fix. A bad mood? He’d always had a bad joke ready to cheer you up. Sadness? He’d simply taken you in his arms and held you until your heart had felt a little lighter. And whenever you’d been really down, he’d always found the right words to make you feel better.

But the one thing that would always lighten your mood? His kisses.

You were convinced they were magical and possessed the power to make everything right and you hated, how you couldn’t even remember properly the last one you’d shared.

It had been this morning. You’d been in the kitchen, preparing your lunch, when he’d joined you. He’d wrapped his arms around you, swaying you from side to side and confessed quietly how he really didn’t want to leave.

You’d laughed and started to lecture him in jest how him leaving was paying the bills, but Mason had only turned you in his arms and kissed you mid-sentence to shut you up.

He’d had a habit of doing that; kissing you when you were in the middle of saying something. It hadn’t even been long and you were missing those rude interruptions already.

You’d never thought you’d have a last kiss. And now you wished you’d focused more on how his lips had felt against yours this morning; wished you’d pulled him back in instead of ushering him out the door, thinking you’d get to kiss him again later that night.

It was like that one memory had opened the gate to hell, as memories came flooding back with no end in sight. Just like your tears.

Laughingly, you shook your head when Mason beckoned you over to him. He was the life of the party like just about always, slightly showing off without coming across as arrogant and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics. You hated dancing and really didn’t want to join him, but Mason being Mason, he always got what he wanted, so when you walked a little closer and he held out his hand, you took it and let yourself pull into his chest for a slow dance. “I know you hate this.”, he giggled softly, causing you to shake your head. “No, I don’t. Not when it's with you.”

Not long ago, you’d watched several videos on tiktok where women talked about random things they found attractive on their men. You’d struggled trying to come up with something yourself, as none of the things that made Mason attractive were random, but then one day, when you were looking at pre-game videos, it hit you. The way he was walking with his hands in his pockets was something so normal, yet insanely attractive to you and ever since you’d realised it, you hadn’t been able to forget about it or not notice it whenever it happened.

Barely breathing, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You knew it was a bad idea and wouldn’t do you any good, but you still opened the gallery, loosing yourself in the fond memories of happy days.

Your chest caved when realisation hit that from this point on this would be your reality. You’d have to watch his life in pictures like you used to watch him sleep peacefully right next to you.

The longer you swiped through the photos, the more rapid your breathing became. The photos turned blurry as tears you didn’t know you still had were threatening to spill over again and that’s when it hit you with full force.

You’d lost him. The best thing you’d ever had in life.

The next morning, you were woken up by someone gently brushing through your hair.

“y/n, love. How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed up.”, you admitted, earning yourself a compassionate look from Maddie, your sister-in-law.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I…I don’t think so.”, you smiled sadly. “It’s…it just hurts a lot and…I have to try and keep it together for today. It’s Tamara’s birthday and I really don’t want to ruin it for her.”

“I think she would understand, you know?”

Tamara was your best friend and one of the most important people in your life. You’d met her in primary school and the two of you had been a package deal ever since.

You were in no mood to go – especially as she’d decided she wanted to go out partying – but you knew you couldn’t miss it without having an explanation and despite the fact you didn’t want to ruin her day, you also weren’t ready to talk about your break-up yet.

“Yeah, she would.”, you agreed. “But I don’t want to tell her yet. She’s going to worry like crazy and I just want her to enjoy her day, you know?”

“Okay.”, Maddie smiled. Whilst she wasn’t entirely happy with your decision, she understood. “There’s breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen. I know you don’t want anything, but you have to eat something. It’s just us two and I won’t pester you with questions, promise. Just know that if you want to talk at some point, I’m happy to listen.”

Tamara’s birthday was as exhausting as you’d expected it to be. Not because her and your mutual friends were, but because pretending to be happy was.

You were dancing and laughing along; trying to appear as normal as possible, but everything inside you felt like crawling into bed and crying. Your heart felt heavy and everything reminded you of Mason.

Tamara had chosen a rather posh and famous club in Manchester; one that you’d been to with Mason and some friends before. He’d sat next to you in the booth, his hand on your thigh and fingers drawing gentle shapes into your warm skin. Every once in a while, he’d kissed your cheek or forehead and whispered sweet nothings into your ear. He’d made you feel loved without doing much.

“Anyone another drink?”, Carla asked when the waiter approached. Since you’d decided to stay away from the alcohol, you ordered another virgin colada right after the others had given their orders.

In the first round, the girls had been more than confused and ready to protest when you’d given your order, but you’d brushed them off, saying you’d taken your migraine meds before and thankfully everyone had bought it.

You would’ve loved to get drunk and try to numb your pain, but alcohol really wasn’t a good idea in the setting you were in. It wouldn't have taken long for you to spill the beans and ruin the evening for everyone.

“y/n! Photo, c’mon!”, Tamara all but screeched as she pulled you into her side rather forcefully. “Say cheese!”

Quickly, you shook yourself out of it and plastered a grin on your face and hoped it didn’t look half as fake as it felt.

In Luke’s living room, Mason was hoping to distract himself from everything. After barely getting any shut eye the night before and fucking up just about everything at training, he’d confided in Luke and told him you’d left him.

Luke – equally as close to you as to Mason – had been on the brink of murdering his friend for being a stupid arsehole, but Anouska being the voice of reason had calmed him down enough for a proper talk.

Mason was scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, not really looking at anything, when a post caught his eye. “Oh.”, he breathed, his heart dropping into his tummy.

“You’re okay mate?”

Wordlessly, he handed Luke his phone. He knew he had no right to be mad, as he was the one who brought himself the misery, but he was still upset to see you all smiles in a club.

He’d thought you’d be sad after having been with him for so long; after sharing what he thought was the best time of your lives together; but the way you were smiling brightly looked everything but.

He could feel the tears burning behind his eyes, but despite his best efforts to keep them in, they slowly rolled down his raw cheeks. And he deserved it; the pain, the suffering, the tears. He deserved it all, he knew.

This morning, he’d tried calling you again – a couple of times in fact – but you hadn’t answered. Not that it was surprising, but he’d wanted to make it right, to apologise and to fight for you and you not answering wasn’t helping his case at all.

Neither did the photos Tamara had posted though. It didn’t seem like you wanted him to fight for you…you seemed happy…

“Mase, it’s her best friend’s birthday. You know y/n, she’d do everything to make sure Tamara has the best day.”

Mason sighed. Luke was right, it was just who you were. You put the people you cared about first; always focused on making sure everyone was happy before thinking about yourself. It was one of the things Mason loved about you so dearly.

“I know but…I could always tell when a smile was faked or when she was pretending in front of others. This just doesn’t-”

“It’s a photo Mase. She probably plastered that smile on her face thinking about how bloody forced it must seem. I know you think you can tell 10 times out of 10, but this is her smiling for her best friend. It’s different. Give her some time and reach out again, I’m sure this is fixable.”

Luke sounded so optimistic, Mason really wanted to believe him, but all things considered, he had fucked up so badly, he wasn’t sure there was anything left to fix. Over the span of weeks, if not months, he’d made everything but you a priority and he couldn’t even begin to imagine just how much it must’ve hurt.

“I don’t know, mate.”, he sighed. “I’ll message her later to apologise and make sure she knows I respect her decision.”

“Look, that’s just stupid. Don’t make her feel like you give up on her.”

“Luke, I’ve either ignored or forgotten any of her wishes for the past week like they didn’t matter at all. The worst thing I can do right now is ignoring her request for space as well.”

Luke sighed, contemplating taking away Mason’s phone before he could fuck up things beyond repair, but he knew that his friend was enough of an adult to make his own decisions. The two of you belonged together, there was no doubt, but there was only so much he could do to try and save a relationship that wasn’t his own.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea Mase.”

But against all warnings, he sent the message before hiding away in his bed. Not knowing that it would shatter your heart all over again.

The days following the break-up felt worse than your own personal nightmare. The years you’d spent by Mason’s side had made the roots of your feelings grow deep and since the finality of his text, it felt like every single root was being slowly and agonisingly pulled out of your heart.

Your heart hurt like a little bitch, and it got worse with every passing day. After days of crying, it shouldn't be possible for a human body to produce any more tears, but your body proved you wrong.

You agonised through every day, never really sure how you’d made it through another one.

At first you’d wanted to go to work, thinking a little distraction would do you good, but on the very first day you felt so sick at the thought of work that you’d called to take sick leave for the week.

Elliott and Maddie were doing everything they could to make sure you didn’t spiral too badly, but with you shutting down basically every attempt they could only do so much.

Most of the day, you just stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling and focusing on taking deep breaths instead of looking at photos of your failed relationship all day long.

You missed him like crazy; like you’d never missed anyone before. But then again you weren’t really surprised. Mason had been your best friend, your person. You’d thought that one day you’d marry him and up until a little while ago you’d thought he wanted the same…

It was day 5 post break-up when you left the bed for the first time. Elliott had all but threatened to call your mum and since you knew she’d kick your arse for feeling sorry for yourself, you’d peeled yourself out of bed.

“Look, I know you won’t be too fond of the idea, but I really need you to pick up some pre-ordered stuff for Maddie’s birthday tomorrow.”

“El-”

“I’d do it myself, but I have a meeting in less than 10 minutes and I really don’t want Maddie to pick it up herself.”

You sighed but nodded slowly. Going out there and actually talking to people was pretty much the opposite of what you wanted to do, but your brother and his wife had been nothing short of supportive those last days and even in your current sorry state, you didn’t want Maddie to go and pick up food for her own birthday.

The short walk and breathing in some of that crisp air, as well as the thought of doing something good for someone else, made you feel a little better, but the second you stepped foot into the restaurant, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was. Sitting at one of the tables to your right. Your first instinct was to look who he was with and whilst it threw you off entirely to see him in the first place you were relieved to see Luke sitting opposite of him.

You realised too late that the latter had noticed you too. His eyes locking on yours with what you could only describe as a hopeful look, but you just shook your head; wordlessly telling him not to alert Mason of your presence.

He visibly sighed but returned his attention to Mason. Just like you did.

He was sitting sideways to you and you couldn't see much, but it seemed like he was just staring straight ahead and not taking in much of what Luke was saying. Slumped in his seat, his usually tamed hair was a mess on top of his head.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked sad as even from your position you could tell that his eyes looked nothing like the bright ones you were used to, but his text from a few days ago was still looming in the back of your head; painfully reminding you that he wasn’t willing to fight for you and you shook yourself out of it.

He wasn’t sad…it was just what you wanted to believe to mend your broken heart. He wasn’t missing you the way you were missing him.

Straightening up, you made your way over to the till. You chose the long way, to stay hidden away from Luke and your ex and thankfully a member of staff was already there to enter your order number into the system. With a Just a minute he went to grab it from the back.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Sorry I don’t have much time.”, you said bluntly in hopes of brushing him off, but Luke didn’t budge.

“How are you.”

You couldn’t help but make a face. Was he being serious? “Great obviously.”

“y/n.”, Luke sighed quietly. “He miss-”

“Don’t even dare going there, Luke.”, you shook your head, unwilling to hear the words missing you and have your heart breaking all over again. “He messaged me a few days ago, telling me he respects my decision. That’s quite the opposite of missing me, if you ask me.”

Luke sighed again. “I know.”, he agreed quietly. “I told him not to do it cause I knew what it would look like. It’s just…he saw the photos Tamara posted and concluded that you’re better off without him, that you’re happier without him. I…he’s a guy and…we don’t handle reaction very well, you know?”

“Wow…didn’t think you’d actually be on his side after everything.”

“I’m not trying to make up excuses here, don’t get me wrong, y/n. I’m just trying to explain what he’s going through and…he’s heartbroken. He really is.”

“Quite hard to believe.”, you dismissed, trying to avoid letting what he was saying affect you. “He never even attempted to fight for us. A very few calls and then that fucking text…and you really want me to believe he misses me?”

“Remember the photo you both had in your car? The drive safe, I love you one? His still in there.”

“He probably just forgot it’s there.”

“No, cause whilst yours is, well maybe was visible in the compartment at the front, his is dangling from the mirror.”

Unsure of what you should say, you stayed quiet.

“Look, I know it’s a shitty situation and I know I don’t really know what led to all of this, but…just…think about it, y/n. He knows he fucked up and he misses you like crazy. Please just take my word for it.”

“As much as I want to believe that, I won’t reach out Luke. I ended things because he constantly made me feel like an afterthought in his life and I’m really sick of it. It hurt, you know? If he misses me like you say he does, it’s on him.”

For a few days you heard nothing from Mason. No attempted calls, no messages, just a big fat nothing. After your conversation with Luke you’d thought that maybe, just maybe he’d meant it and Mason would reach out and at least attempt to fix what wasn’t more than a shattered relationship anymore, but it looked like your gut feeling had been right – once again.

You tried your best to get your life back under control. It was hard, but somehow you managed to show up in your office after taking a week off and get some actual work done without starting to cry.

Your brother and his family as well as Tamara, who you’d told eventually, were your biggest supporters and you knew if it wasn’t for them, you’d probably still be rotting away in Elliott’s guest bedroom.

Instead, with their help, you’d found a cute little flat, decorated it and made it feel like your safe space. Step one on a very long road of healing.

A knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts. Ollie, your boss’ assistant smiled hesitantly as he came in.

“This arrived for you this morning.” You furrowed your brows as he handed you a small package. It didn’t look like something a client would send; wrapped in light green wrapping paper and a small white tulip sitting on top.

“Who sent it?”

Ollie just shrugged. “Diane didn’t say. She just said it was left for you at the reception and since I went to grab something anyway, I figured I could just take it up to you.”

“Thank you, Ollie.”, you smiled and with a shy nod, he hurried out of your room.

The tips of your fingers traced the outlines of the package. Who would send you a gift on a random Wednesday? It was far from being your birthday, definitely not Christmas and whilst Tamara was one for sending gifts you knew that right now, she preferred other ways of being there for you.

Carefully, you unwrapped it and when you came face to face with the book you’d been meaning to buy, your breath caught in the back of your throat. Not because it was something you’d been wanting for half an eternity, no, but because there was only one person, you’d told about it.

After days of silence and the feeling that he’d given up on you without even trying, he sent you a book completely out of the blue and you weren’t sure what to feel.

It was so…unexpected. Cause whilst Mason had always been one to gift you small things, it hadn’t happened in a while.

When you eventually picked the book up, to throw away the wrapping paper, a small piece of paper fell out. You furrowed your brows at the sight of Mason’s obvious handwriting.

I know, I fucked up. Big time. And I know a book won’t make up for it, but I want you to know that you didn’t just exist in my life as a pretty sidepiece, but that I actually care about you. A lot. I know we might never be the same, but I still want to make you feel seen. Until you’ll maybe be ready to talk to me. Or tell me to stop and leave you be.

Staring at the words you’d read over and over again, you weren’t sure what to think of them. All of it was bringing up a lot of mixed emotions. Emotions you’d tried to bury six feet under.

You’d hoped they stay there. Buried in the depth of your heart, safely locked away never to surface again, but the gifts kept chipping away at the brick walls you’d built.

They weren’t big or expensive gifts by any means. No jewellery, fancy clothes or whatever Mason’s never ending money could buy. No, they were small, carefully chosen and oh so thoughtful:

A rare postcard from the small park in Portsmouth you’d spent so much time in – alone and with Mason. A box of your favourite biscuits from the bakery in London you’d always spent way to much money at. Sweets you’d stocked your shared cupboards with, bath additives with your comfort smell…

After everything you’d been through lately, you hadn’t expected him to remember such small things about you. For months you’d felt like an afterthought, but all these things made you wonder if he’d actually cared more than you’d thought.

But no matter how much these things warmed your heart, you couldn’t help but notice that the word ‘sorry’ was missing. Sure, the gifts were his way of expressing it in the most genuine way he could without saying it, but even the note in the book didn’t state those 5 letters.

And whilst you truly appreciated his attempts, they weren’t enough for you to give in and message him first.

With a grim expression on your face, you turned the TV off. United had lost – again – and ruined not only Mason’s first time back as a starter, but simultaneously the goal he’d worked so hard for.

You hadn’t even intended to watch the game – football not really something you were overly interested in – but Mason being back in the starting lineup after months on the sidelines had somehow managed to convince you.

Sighing, you stood up and began tidying up your living room. It wasn’t messy by any means, but you had to distract yourself from thinking about your smile that had been way too bright when you’d seen him entering the pitch and your reaction that most definitely had been more enthusiastic than you cared to admit.

You didn’t want to care anymore. Not after everything he’d put you through. But your heart was still doubling over in your chest whenever you saw that smile of his.

A little while later – you were about to start preparing your dinner – it knocked at your door.

Wiping your hands on the dishtowel, you headed to open the door, only to be met with the last face you’d expected to see.

“Mason?”

“Hi.”, he said softly, a careful half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What are you doing here?”

“I erm…” His eyes dropped to the towel now clutched tightly in your hands. “I just…wanted to see you, I guess?”

“Okay?”, you nodded slowly, not really sure what to make of the whole situation. Especially of the thought that someone from your small circle had apparently told him your new address. “Congrats on your comeback. I’m glad you’re back out there.”

“Thanks.” A small smile darted over his face. “So am I. It was…difficult.”

The following silence was awkward, definitely making you both uncomfortable, but before you could think of stepping back and closing the door on him, he sighed.

“Those gifts, I-” Mason looked pained as he was trying to explain himself. “I know they’re not…enough or remotely anything that would make any of this better. It’s just…did you like them?”

“Did I like them? I mean…yeah sure, they were thoughtful just…none of them were what I really needed, you know?”

Mason nodded, seemingly understanding what you were alluding to. “Can I…I mean, can we talk?”

After deliberately taking a few seconds to make a decision you eventually nodded and stepped aside to let him in.

Once in your living room, Mason took a moment and let his gaze sweep over your thoughtfully chosen furniture and decor. You couldn’t read him like you used to, but the sad smile darting over his face was enough to make you hope he was thinking of your once shared house. The house you’d spent a lot of time decorating and making feel like home.

Turning around slowly, he buried his hands in the pockets of his joggers. “Listen, I’m sorry, y/n.”, he said quietly.

“You never mentioned it before.” Your voice was tight, and your arms crossed defensively over your chest. Him being in your safe space and ripping down the small walls you’d so carefully built over the past few weeks made you feel a lot more vulnerable than you liked.

“Writing it down, I don’t know…it would’ve been too easy. I didn’t…I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell you, not mention it on paper like I don’t mean it.” Mason dropped his gaze to the floor in shame before taking a deep breath and forcing his eyes back on yours. “I really am sorry for everything, y/n.”

“You hurt me.”, you gulped.

“I know.”

“No, Mason, you don’t.”, you shook your head. Your voice broke slightly, and you tried your best to blink back the tears threatening to spill over, but you knew it was to no avail.

“I know you think you do, but you really don’t. You don’t know how much it hurt feeling like everything I did and worked for didn’t matter to you at all. Your stuff, no matter what, was always more important. Yours always came first cause you’re the oh so amazing footballer and I’m just little miss corporate girly with a random boring job…or life for that matter.”

“y/n, I-” Mason looked like he was about to cry, but everything you’d been holding back for months came out all at once at full force.

“I didn’t ask for much, Mason, you know that. I supported you as much as I could. I attended those galas and events and whatever you wanted me by your side for and guess what? Every single time you asked, I could’ve burst with pride cause it was me you wanted there, not anyone else. But the very few times I asked you to be by my side, to support me, something more important came up and you stood me up.”

Angrily, you wiped at the tears rolling down your reddened cheeks.

“I’m so, so sorry, y/n.”, Mason choked. “I never meant to-”

“I just wanted to be good enough. To be more important than football. Just once.”

The admission caught Mason off guard. It cut right through his heart and made his knees buckle. “You have been more than enough, y/n. I swear, you’ve always been more than enough for me. You’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Slowly, you shook your head. “It didn’t feel like it, Mason. You pushed me to the side and made me feel like I’m not worth your time, but you know what? It’s completely fucked up, but despite it all, I couldn’t help but hope that something would remind you and make you wish you’d stayed.”

“I wish I had. I promise.”, Mason sniffed. “Not just that. I wish I’d been better, you know? Better for you, better for us. I struggled with my priorities cause so many people expected different things from me and-”

“Not me.”, you said quietly. “I never expected you to be something special or be here all the time or put football on the back burner. I just wanted to be an important part of your life too. Not just some second thought.”

You hadn’t noticed Mason carefully stepping closer, but when he carefully grabbed your hand in his, you let him.

His fingers felt warm and familiar against yours. The touch reminding you of the good times you were missing so badly.

“You were – are – an important part of my life, y/n.”, Mason promised. It was quiet, but confident. He made it sound like it was true. “I know I wasn’t the best at showing you and for that I’m sorry. Genuinely sorry. I’m sorry for all the disappointment and hurt I caused you and…I know I don’t get to ask anything from you, but I’d love to show you that I still want you. That I’ll fight for whatever is left between us. Because I still love you, y/n.”

Staring at the way his hand was still gripping yours tightly, you took a moment to let his words sink in. To let yourself feel all the emotions bubbling up inside of you.

You were still hurt and angry, but you still appreciated everything he’d said. Especially as you knew that he wasn’t a man of many emotional words normally, but liked to use jokes for covering up deeper emotions.

“I…I can’t just go back to where we left off, Mason.”, you sighed. “This…I know you’re sorry and I believe you…it’s just…”

“You don’t trust me anymore.”, he finished for you and when you nodded, the defeated look on his face pulled at all your heartstrings at once. “I understand, y/n. I promise I do and I don’t expect this to change quickly. It’s just…if you still see a chance for us, I’d like to take the time and prove myself to you.”

Mason brushed his thumb over your knuckles. His brown eyes bore into yours, somewhat pleading for you to say yes and give him the chance he didn’t deserve.

“You have to put in the work, Mason.”, you said quietly. “I’m not expecting you to be there all the time or make me your priority. I know football will always be up there and that’s something I don’t want you to change. I just want to be equally important.”

“You always have been, y/n.”, Mason smiled sadly. “But I promise this time I’ll make you feel like it too. You deserve so much more than what you got from me, and I swear to god I’ll make it right.”

Nodding slowly, you let go of a deep breath before leaning your forehead against his chest. “You’re an idiot.”, you huffed.

“I know.”, Mason confirmed. Still a bit unsure how open you’d be for affection from him, he carefully pressed his lips to the top of your head. “But I’m an idiot who missed you a lot.”

Something inside of you cracked open slightly at his words and whilst part of you wanted to keep your distance, you wrapped your arms around his middle anyway and when he hugged you back, tiny pieces of hope fell back into place.

For a while you simply stood there, wrapped up in one another and holding on to the hope that things would get better. That not all was lost.

“I know we have to talk some more, but I really mean it when I say I’m sorry and that you’re the only one I’ll ever want. I don’t want to lose you again, y/n.”

Pulling back a little, you tipped your head back and locked your eyes on his.

“I know.”, you smiled softly. “I don’t want to lose you either, Mase.”

A warm smile spread over his face and with some newfound confidence, Mason brought one hand up to cradle your jaw. His thumb stroked right beneath your eye, making your tummy flutter.

You wanted to keep your distance, to keep your heart safe for a little while longer, but the way he was looking at you with so much love and warmth in his eyes had your walls crumbling rather easily.

“I missed you so much.”

Mason leaned in slowly, testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull back, but instead tipped your head back a little more, he closed the distance and pressed his lips against yours softly; carefully, but oh so familiar and you couldn’t help but melt into him.

Nothing was perfect and it wouldn’t be for a while, but knowing you wouldn’t have to go back to torturing yourself by watching his life in pictures and wondering how you’d ended like this was enough for now.

“I missed you, too.”, you whispered against his lips before reaching up, burying your fingers in his hair and pulling him back in for another kiss.

And another right after as you never wanted to think about having a last kiss ever again.

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pillowspace · 1 year ago

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HI….👉👈 AM I ALLOWED TO ASK ABOUT YOUR SIBLINGS AU????

sooo so curious if you have an facts or tidbits to share like! whats their dynamic like? is there any Backstory to this oooor just for fun? i am. very very interested ehe

(only if u want to tho!!)

(About this post and this post)

Mmmm! Let me see what I can think of!

Mal's full first name is Maldu. I imagine everyone would call them Mal except for Odile, since she calls Bonnie Boniface, and would presumably call Mal "Maldu."

Mal is like 12-15, I'm not really strict on the exact age. Since Mal would be the second youngest, they would probably like following Bonnie around even if Mal doesn't really know how to "play" or anything. They just kinda... stand there and try to curiously mirror whatever Bonnie does.

Mal is a bit quiet. They can speak, but they don't do so often, and are more likely to speak when they're upset than when they're pleased.

The red star that hangs from their bandana cannot be seen in colour unless Mal is especially upset. Not the most upset of their life like Siffrin, but even just a big cry could cause the star to shine for everyone to see.

Mal is very sensitive and cries easily. Siffrin's grown practiced at calming them down but still gets freaked out by the sudden tears.

Mal likes quietly watching and listening. They enjoy being taught by their allies how to perform certain tasks, and will give that wide-eyed look of a silent "really??" when praised for doing something right. They soak up praise like a sponge due to a perpetual feeling of doing something wrong.

While their right eye spirals, Mal's left iris is entirely white! It's usually covered by the slanted hat, however.

And! I hadn't actually really thought of a backstory until just now, but does this work? I think it maybe could

Siffrin accidentally created Mal through Wish Craft when he had a mental breakdown as a child/teen soon after the northern island's disappearance, though neither of them know this, and they did not meet until a couple years after this happened. Mal's existence slowly came to be with a clear understanding that they existed for a reason, but they weren't sure why. When Siffrin and Mal eventually crossed paths, it was like finding a second half that you hadn't even realized you had lost. Though even after meeting, the two are still unsure of how this happened to begin with. As far as Siffrin's concerned, the two just "clicked," and does not remember the breakdown. Meanwhile Mal's not really sure where they came from or what they are, but they gladly latch onto the protection Siffrin offers.

Mal is simultaneously an extension of Siffrin, and a separate being entirely. Mal was made from Siffrin's soul, even if Siffrin hadn't meant to share himself like that. When one is hurt, the other shares the echoes of their pain. Mal likely severely panicked when Siffrin lost the eye, and the echoing pain in Mal's own head surely didn't help. If ONE panicked kid (Bonnie) wasn't enough, you also get TWO in this AU! Congrats!

Since Mal was created from Siffrin's distraught state, it reflects through Mal in certain ways. How sensitive they are, how timid they are, their unease, their anxiety, etc. Siffrin's helping Mal every step of the way though, and is very protective of them, urging his allies to be gentle with them.

#ask #isat au #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #in stars and time au #little sibling mdp au #isat #in stars and time

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ryoskuna · 5 months ago

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Be the Light: Dragon Age: The Veilguard's Davrin - A Character Study/Analysis & Appreciation Post

Hi, my name is Leia, and I’m a Master’s degree candidate in Children’s Literature and Library & Information Science. I’m also a Black woman who loves consuming media, which is not limited to playing video games, reading books, and watching TV shows/movies.

To my friends who have put up with me rambling about this game for the last three(?)-ish weeks, thank you for entertaining me, putting up with all my thoughts, and pushing me to make this post.

I completed my first playthrough of Dragon Age: The Veilguard on January 6th (and cried twice), and while there is so much that can be said for the storytelling (it’s not perfect; there’s no such thing as perfection since that’s an objective notion), but in my opinion, I believe DATV makes for an excellent and conclusive end to the Dragon Age franchise in regards to lore and the world of Thedas on the best attempts of the developers and writing team. Especially considering it was a game that lingered in development purgatory for 8+ years, and there was such an intense fight to make sure it got released, I will contently take what I received (with some admitted bias as a Solavellen, and someone who does like Solas as a character though there is much to say about him as well but not here!). When I completed the game, my immediate response was very similar to the way I reacted when I finished my first playthrough of Final Fantasy 15 (another game that I found emotionally compelling- I sobbed for approximately 30-45 minutes straight while on a voice call with a friend during the final cutscene sequences, as well as the credits playing Stand by Me by Florence + the Machine) — I wanted to make a video essay talking about the storytelling and my experience with all of the characters, content, and everything that made me absolutely enamored with the game. (Side note: DATV has the best combat gameplay in any of the DA games, and I will stand by that. Like if they remastered Inquisition and the other two games with the Character Creation from Veilguard and upgraded the combat mechanics/gameplay/UI, I would be first in line to buy the remastered versions.)

(It’s also ironic this is getting posted when it’s been announced that the entire Bioware team for DA has been let go, left, or released to industry, which is a loss of some wonderful storytellers and creatives.)

But I lack the video equipment to make video essays/vlogs talking about my interests like this, and I also don’t know if anyone would watch it. I also generally do not see a lot of Black women engaging in content that would fall into this category or dialogues with media and games, although I wish I did see more of it!

However, this is not intended to be a critique of the game; this is solely meant to be a character study and appreciation post for one of the companions, Davrin, who was the standout companion for me during my initial playthrough and continues to be in my consecutive playthroughs. Davrin is arguably a fantastic character, not only because of his companion quests (which have some of the strongest and most emotional storytelling, in my opinion, whether you romance him or not), but also because of his personality and how he is a love letter to the history and future of Thedas.

(Additional side note: all of the companions are fantastic, especially the seven that are newly introduced within DATV. Harding is a great connection to DAI, the references to the Inquisition at large, and some additional history of the world of Thedas.)

This is also why I mention my race in my introductory statement, as my analysis of him is based on my experience and understanding as a Black woman. While I am not a Black man, I do have a brother, and my father is a Black man who comes from a military background, and this absolutely does affect my perspective and understanding of Davrin as a character.

This way of analysis in literature is called reader-response, in which the reader has a transaction with the text, i.e., the reader reads the material, and out comes their interpretation of the text (see: here, and Mingshui Cai’s “Transactional Theory and the Study of Multicultural Literature.” Language Arts, vol. 85, no. 3, 2008, pp. 212–20, if you’re looking for more intellectual writings on reader-response.). Reader-response allows for a unique interpretation based on the reader or in this case, the player’s individual experience.

Lastly, I’d like to preface that this post will reference the game, the podcast - Vows & Vengeance, that was released prior to Veilguard’s release - and some of the books, primarily Last Flight, for additional narrative context. I’ll flag spoilers the best I can but will state that this post is not spoiler-free.

First, for this to make sense, I feel like we have to discuss why representation in media matters. So, why? Why does representation matter?

Well, there is power in seeing someone who resembles yourself or your story on a screen or largely consumed content. It challenges stereotypes (or what one can be), introduces people to cultural exchange, and engages in cultivating a sense of belonging (here’s a wonderful TED talk if you’re interested, but also see this article from PBS, APA (American Psychology Association), here, and here).

Another one of my favorite TED talks about storytelling also touches on why representation matters. It matters when we engage in dialogue when we try to understand our friends and when we seek to build community with welcoming, inclusive people. It is why people seek to build accommodating spaces, and it is one of our greatest acts of resistance to systemic oppression that allows discriminatory stereotypes to flourish. Being in community is an act of resistance. This is also why it matters when people are so excited to see a character be undoubtedly and explicitly a part of a specific affinity group or identity. There can be a whole essay or book written on why representation matters (and there are, plenty), so I do not want to get to into the weeds with why representation is a valuable contribution in a time where DEIJ (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Justice) is being challenged so heavily.

Now that we’ve covered that, let’s get to the real reason you’re probably here. This is split into two parts, the character study/analysis, and the appreciation. Not that these two things aren’t similar in nature, but I wanted to make it separate in a way in case anyone wanted to specifically comment on anything, came for a specific portion, or please feel free to use in your fanfiction writing if you’d like. Just know if you’re going to engage with this post, please be respectful. If I am wrong on something, please feel free to DM me and let me know!

Character Study/Analysis

We meet Davrin initially in the announcement trailer for DATV, but we don’t really see a finalized formation of his character outside of visuals until Vows and Vengence, where they’ve switched from using a British accent of his voice to an American accent. I think this is a neat transition from the whole “all elves are british-accented/welsh-accented” we saw in the 2010s, but for me, this truly emphasizes a correlation to a Black American experience — however, I’ll touch upon this later. When Davrin is introduced to us in V&V, he comes off as a character with a strong sense of responsibility and duty — and he’s already involved with the Griffons as he wants to investigate the rumors of their reemergence instead of investigating the earthquakes occurring in the Anderfels. He chooses to fall into a sinkhole to rescue the protagonist of V&V, Nadia, and two additional characters. When Nadia mentions that the only reason she’s in the predicament she’s in is due to someone called “The Dread Wolf”, Davrin immediately wants to investigate as the involvement of Fen’Harel is a bad omen, and the Grey Wardens should be investigating. There is also the mention of darkspawn, which is more compulsion for Grey Wardens to investigate.

Additionally, he has a partner at the time named Goff(?) who he later nearly has to to amputate a limb from and argues to carry the man out as he won’t leave him against Goff’s orders; when he does leave him it is reluctantly. He cannot accompany Drayden and Nadia and continues to investigate the Blight, and by extension, what the elven ruins have to do with the Blight, committed to his duty as a Grey Warden.

Which leads us somewhat into how we find him again in Veilguard, where we are referred to a monster hunter named Davrin by Evka and Antoine (they will be another important reference and guide into how the role of the Grey Wardens is changing towards the betterment or future of Thedas).

I have to appreciate Davrin’s complexity as a character. While the game, in my opinion, is more ambiguous on his standing or practice of the elven religion, he never leaves room to deny his roots and where he comes from. In V&V, he’s familiar with reading ancient elven, and wishes Nadia and Drayden that Andruil guides them on their adventure. Davrin’s vallasin is also dual-sided, which in a reference to the sun and moon quote in V&V (“Guide me on the path that splits the land between sun and moon”) on the mirror mosaic, you can argue that his vallasin is a reference to Ghilan’nain or you can argue that it is for Andruil. However, I raise that his vallasin is for both goddesses, as Andruil is the reason that Ghilan’nain ascended to “godhood”, and with Davrin’s title as a monster hunter, it would be fitting considering Andruil is the goddess of the hunt.

He also names Assan after the elven word for ‘arrow’, which is referenced in two of Andruil’s three ways - Vir Assan - or the Way of the Arrow - and Vir Bor’assan - or the Way of the Bow - which the former refers to ‘fly straight and never waver’, the latter being ‘bend but never break’. It makes sense that he names Assan this, as it is almost him speaking blessings over the young Griffon, to fly straight, never waver, to bend (or endure turmoil) but never break (or fail). To me, it is a blessing from a father to a child, but it is also a reminder to himself everytime he calls the Griffon’s name to himself.

[Note: all the other griffons presumably have names, he mentions a few of them if you walk to their cages during the first part of his companion quest/adding him to the Veilguard, but they’re a little silly in my opinion. Assan is the only one who is known to have an elven name, and noted to be the only one Davrin himself named.]

Having a vallasin that represents Ghilan’nain is also fitting (and ironic considering Ghilan’nain’s position through Veilguard), because not only was Ghilan’nain one of the people, but as a “goddess” she was dedicated to guidance and navigation. For someone like Davrin, who struggled fitting in with his clan and wanting to go on a different path than solely staying with his clan, he could’ve been asking for all the guidance he would be fortunate enough to get. Additionally, she is called the mother of the Halla, creatures that Davrin was gentle enough to care for, hence where we get the line where we find out that he used to sing to the Halla, and he’s attentive enough to identify when they’re ill, and the best methodologies to feed them successfully. (Halla are extremely sacred creatures, considered noble, and the Dalish ask for the Halla to accompany them instead of forcing them. Ghilan’nain is stated to be the first Halla. )

As we go throughout the playthrough of the game, Davrin’s role transitions from being a monster hunter, to a Grey Warden, to a bodyguard for the newly hatched baby Griffons, and then, upon joining Rook, and encountering the Gloom Howler, he becomes something else. Like Ghilan’nain, Davrin has ascended to a more important position than solely being a Grey Warden or a monster hunter. He is now the keeper of the future of the last of the Griffons, hence his urgency in rescuing them, and why the decision of their path (to stay with the Wardens or to live in Arlathan Forest) weighs so heavily upon him.

This is why I propose that his vallasin is left to be ambiguous or a combination of the two goddesses because of the duality of his nature as a character, but the two sides (or the sun & moon) of the path he’s chosen to live by. I also think there is an irony that the blight is what corrupted the Evanuris, and he fights it now - especially noting that Ghilan'nain also has the capacity for pulling out some wicked horrors when Solas calls her the "most sensitive of us" (referring to the Ancient Elves).

I would have loved to see something where Davrin and maybe even Bellara discuss their vallasin, and their viewpoint on it, now that they are in a predicament where their myths about their gods have now changed drastically, and is reflected in their lived experience.

However, I also acknowledge that Davrin does not particularly hold any signficant reverence towards the Gods, at least not in the same way Bellara does. He states he thought of them as “myths” and now that they’re real, he has to process that. He also states that he knows the gods being blighted and trying to take over isn’t going to do the elven people any favors in terms of “popularity” with the rest of Thedas, which leads me into my next point.

He is always mindful of his people. Whether this is the Grey Wardens, who we see him mourn and wish to honor; or the elven people, even if they’re not apart of his clan, he cares deeply for them. (By extension, he cares about the Veilguard and the Griffons, of course.) During the fight against Elger’nan and the Venatori to rescue the Veil Jumpers, you can hear him state, “These are my people” in a protective manner (much like Bellara can say, as well as an elven Rook). He thinks about how Thedas is going to see the elven people if they find out that the elven gods are behind the Blight, the archdemons, and the issue of the Golden/Black City & the “Tevinter Gods”.

This mindset also tends to cultivate his self-sacrificing viewpoint (he is willing to be the Warden responsible for killing Ghilan’nain’s archdemon); it’s not only what he’s trained to do, but it is about protecting his proclaimed and declared people (not to mention the innocents he morally is willing to protect).

I propose that he was not filled with the “spirit” of the archdemon for two reasons: 1) because what they considered to be the “spirit” was the ancient elven magic seeking an out (it’s known and stated in-lore that the ancient elves were immortal because their magic was constantly engaging and adapting to the world) and 2) because Ghilan’nain was right there instead, thus performing a ‘return to sender’ (“Maybe the Gods changed things and the old rules don’t apply”). He states he wasn’t expecting to live because he had embraced the fact that Grey Wardens have an expiration date, and that pushed him. Now that he survived (and processing survivor’s guilt, as well as the stages of grief), he now has to find a purpose outside of being a Grey Warden and a monster hunter.

His seeking a purpose is a reminder, to me as a Black person, how we are taught that just being ourselves and contributing to what others contribute is not good enough. Giving 100 percent is not good enough - you must be outstanding. (There’s a quote from Scandal that’s applicable here - watch here; “You have to be twice as good as them to get half of what they have”). In that, being just a Grey Warden isn’t enough, nor is being just a monster hunter.

What makes him relevant? Outstanding?

I propose that’s his transition from bodyguard to parent and keeper of the Griffons. It’s this reasoning that also answers his question on why he gets to live. He’s got to be the one to tell the story of the Griffons, of Isseya, of the past of the Wardens he knew, and the future of the Wardens as they move forward and away from slaying darkspawn and hunting the Blights. The fall of Weisshaupt is the metaphorical fall of the old order of the Wardens, with all their secrets, lies, and damage. Davrin’s emphasized bond with the Griffons speaks to how the new order of the Grey Wardens is healing.

Now, we absolutely should discuss Assan as he relates to Davrin, and I propose that Assan is an extension of Davrin — meaning the way Davrin cares for Assan is how Davrin learns to care for himself. It’s how he learns to hope, to recognize he is capable of being more than just the blade the Grey Wardens made him; that while he’s questioning his future and his path, that he has the freedom to choose. Davrin states he feels like “a blade sharpened all these years to confront the worst darkness in the world” and when his blade “[strikes] true”, he asks “what now?”

Davrin’s commentary on calling himself a blade is a parellel in how he describes how Assan, as a Griffon, by nature are inclined to fight Darkspawn like a wolf hunting a deer. Davrin’s nature has been to fight, to hunt; just as Assan’s nature is to hunt Darkspawn. But like Assan, during another companion quest, their nature is also to care. To be gentle — Assan, who brings food to the sick Halla — and Davrin, whose nature of care is extended to Rook and the team, and the thoughtfulness that he uses to care for the future of the Griffons, the future of Thedas, and all the areas encountered by the Gods, the Blight, and the Archdemons.

Davrin adapts. He’s very rough and tumble (the guy fought a hurlock, broke four ribs and cracked his jaw, got up and then drove a blade through the thing’s skull), but he also comes from places of care, hence why he makes his whittled figures of monsters and is working on an accurate bestiary as a warrior and hunter, not a mage.

It is also important to note another title Davrin not only earns but self-proclaims, is that of a parent. He states that “parent” is a scary word. (“I’m supposed to be his bodyguard”), but I’m inclined to go with Varric’s advice - if the decision isn’t easy, it means you’re taking it seriously. He then later proclaims himself, with confidence, that “I’m his (Assan)’s father.” Davrin’s proclamation as a parent, and a good one at that, strays away from the absent Black father stereotype that is prominent in media, which is rooted in system practices during enslavement where the father was removed to divide up and destroy the Black family.

Davrin is confident in hunting the darker things in the world, but he doubts how well he can care for a Griffon. It’s the questions asked by a first-time parent, with no manual, and the only thing that a child, or in this case, a Griffon, asks for is to be loved and embraced.

This is something that we learn that Davrin experienced through Eldrin, who taught him to appreciate nature, embraced Davrin’s desire to leave the clan to find his place in the world, and who reminded him to embrace the light as much as Davrin fights the darkness (to find balance). In turn, Davrin is reminded by Rook and states himself that he’ll “raise Assan to create a world where the light outshines the dark”. Eldrin told this to a younger Davrin (Eldrin being his uncle figure), and now Davrin tells this to his son, Assan.

Additionally, Davrin reminds me of my father, a Black man who has a military background, especially when Davrin states, “I can’t be soft on Assan, because the world won’t.” I cannot express how many times I have heard this from my father to my brother, even though my father, like Davrin learned over time that it is alright for them to be soft.

(Be protective of your child, but also be a safe haven for your child — firm when required, gentle when needed.)

Davrin breaks a form of behavior (the tough father - generational curse seen in Black and POC communities) by allowing Assan to grow and learn in an environment of love and care. Davrin would die for Assan, and he makes that very clear, both in action and dialogue. In turn, it’s clear Assan loves and is loyal to Davrin (he lays at his feet, always cuddles up to Davrin, and even attacks the Gloom Howler/Isseya to protect Davrin). Davrin even tells Rook to hug Assan for him. This, to me, is the embodiment of the notion of “turlum” - a form of unity. There is respect and love shared by Davrin and Assan, which forms their loyalty to one another and their ability to work as one.

Davrin fights and becomes more than just the objectification/weaponzation (of the metaphorical blade - of trying to martyr himself to be useful or worth something) and evolves to embrace his personhood, to embracing the unknown, and that his path and development is solely, 100 percent, his own. He goes away from that philosophy mentioned in that one tumblr post from wonderland-mp3: “if U cannot be wanted, I will be needed and if I cannot be needed, let me be used until there’s nothing left of me”.

Appreciation

There’s a lot of reasons to enjoy Davrin, whether it is his handsomeness, his chest, or his nose (his nose is so unapologetically Black; it’s a standout and prominent feature of his, and it is absolutely beautiful) - he was certainly given plenty. However, one of my reasons that I enjoy him is because of the duality of his nature. He is both fierce warrior and gentle spirit. He whittles. That’s a skill that requires an exceptional amount of dedication, patience, and caution, as if you cut too deep, you can splinter the wood, especially for the figures that he makes of the fallen Grey Wardens and of the attention to detail he puts in the ones of the monsters he has fought because he cares about capturing their accuracy for others. He chops wood when he’s stressed or to clear his head. But every piece of wood he uses, he creates something with. He isn’t wasteful, he makes the wood useful. He puts out his frustration and feelings into the things he creates.

He also is open and unabashed about his feelings. His ability to communicate his feelings is powerful, and deters from the emotionally constipated black man stereotype. Even when you flirt with him once or twice, he immediately gets the heart and Thrill of the Chase. In my opinion, you earn this status with him faster than the other companions. He makes it very clear that he can be romantically invested in Rook. Even if you don’t choose to pursue him romantically, he is still a devoted and caring friend towards Rook. The walks he takes Rook on are moments in which he pulls them away from the Lighthouse or from some intense moment to reconnect to nature. He may use Assan as an “excuse” but he and Rook need those walks just as much.

He trusts and befriends his team. He comforts Bellara and her grief (on top of the fact that Davrin and Bellara (and an elven Rook) are trying to process this whole revamped narrative of their “gods”, their myths, and place in the world when the entire society has historically mistreated elves) - and their relationship to me, becomes akin to siblings, or close friends. He bonds with Taash and takes their advice on making sure Assan is getting the nutrients he needs. Emmrich and Davrin exchange parenting advice. Lucanis and Davrin become drinking buddies.

Davrin makes people feel seen.

Now, when you romance him, he is even more transparent about his feelings. He affirms that there’s more than passing glances between him and Rook, that they spend time together at an increasing rate, and he admits that he’s been thinking of a future with them. He expresses fear and worry - even a bit of anger of all the difficult decisions that Rook has had to do (his anger is not with them, I believe, but with the fact they have the burden) - over Rook.

He’s good with children - he offers Mila payment in the form of Griffon Kisses post-Weisshaupt. He’s also funny and silly (this man tells that the Gingerwort Truffle tea made Rook pee for the rest of the day).

He’s also mindful, tactical and intentional. While hunting the Gloom Howler, during the second part of the quest, aka The Cauldron, Rook may suggest they go after the Gloom Howler/or that she got away. However, you see Davrin state that it is okay, they’re not in a position to hunt her as they don’t truly know what she is, and it is dangerous to hunt something whose nature is not known. He then solicits help in finding out what or who the Gloom Howler is after allowing Emmrich to discern the nature of the cloth that Assan managed to tear from the Gloom Howler.

[Spoilers will continue in the next paragraph.]

(Spoilers: they find out that it is an elf, a former Grey Warden.)

In his pursuit of knowledge, Davrin discovers that the Gloom Howler is actually a former elven Grey Warden named Isseya who, during the 4th Blight, was ordered to blight the griffons so that they could not be useful to anyone else after going rabid on the Wardens who were using them to fight in the 4th Blight. (If you want to know more about Isseya, please read Dragon Age: Last Flight).

Even when he’s mad at the Gloom Howler for kidnapping the Griffons, he takes time to find out who or what she is— and then reminds her of her own humanity as an appeal to try and get her to stop before he puts her out of her misery because she’s basically been blighted and immortal for 500 years and living with that horror of her orders which has driven her mad.

[SPOILERS OVER.]

He is socially and emotionally intelligent. If you take him on Harding’s companion quest to Kal-Sharok, he is able to greet Stalgard in dwarven, after Stalgard greets him as well. I also consider his ability to place his personal feelings aside in how he reviews Solas’s memories during the quest Regrets of the Dread Wolf, and to empathize where Solas was coming from in some of his decision making as a sign of emotional intelligence. He states that if he had an opportunity to forever end the blight like Solas did, or even though he did - he would take it, just as Solas had. (This is a paraphrasing, please don’t eat me alive.) Then, reviewing Solas’s regrets,

Davrin also can acknowledge when he’s wrong. He grows. He has strong opinions on Lucanis, granted, these are emphasized by the incident at Weisshaupt when he is in mourning, processing, and going through the stages of grief of arguably one of the only places he’s considered home since he’s left his clan. However, if you check on him after the argument - he states that Rook should check on Lucanis, and that the shot Lucanis took at Ghilan’nain was “incredible”. He then later tells Lucanis that no one can do what Lucanis can do in regards to taking down Ghilan’nain.

He’s a man of action. If you romance him, during the romance scene, he reassures Rook through physical touch - they’ve been stuck in a place alone for 2-3 weeks - and then follows up his physical reassurances with verbal affirmations. He says “I love you” first to Rook, and while this is probably intentional by the programming - for him to continue being transparent enough to admit I love you in a high tension situation speaks volumes.

Davrin, in the way that he is written is such a dynamic character and his character growth and arc is arguably one of the more long-lasting ones that I think about from DATV. While I’m not sure the ethnicity of his writer(s), they did a fantastic job embodying this man as an unapologetically and explicitly Black man, with all the nuance and roundness that avoided stereotypical behavior and tropes associated with Black men.

Final Notes

Davrin was my first romance in DATV, and arguably, if I could romance him every time, I absolutely would (however, I’m curious about the other romances, but I am planning another playthrough with my original Rook, Zen, and she will be romancing that man again). The way he loves is so big. He is the embodiment of to be loved is to be seen (and romancing him and then choosing him for that ending (which in my opinion, shouldn’t have been an option) is absolutely emotionally devastating. But, it confirms what I say: “You saw me, and I saw you”). His devotion (because that man is locked in) is phrased in “wherever you are, there I am”.

The AMA erasing him and saying that it is Assan that makes the ending so devastating on a level that equates to Harding is a very bad take. Not because it erases his personhood (which is the purpose of his entire companion quest), but also because Assan is a part of him, but he is what you are offered first, Assan is the added bonus. Additionally, reducing his character to “just the jock” is also in poor taste because a) the jock character is obviously Taash (they literally have weight-lifting equipment in their room) and b) he is so much more than just that, and he is a very gentle character.

[ MORE SPOILERS BTW ]

(Also, arguably, his scene as a result of leading the second team is so much more worse than Harding’s, in my opinion, because he didn’t even get a fighting chance, and Harding’s status is different than his (MIA vs. Fallen Hero with the disclosure they couldn’t find his remains)

[ SPOILERS OVER ]

I loved my experience romancing him and playing as a Veil Jumper Rook because he gives banter like “Not bad for a Veil Jumper” even without romancing him. It’s funny, it’s comradery, it is warmth. He jokes with Neve about her assessment on Rook.

He doesn’t forget his roots and where he comes from, and this is why I propose that Davrin, the Grey Warden, but also the man that he is, is the proclimaiton of the future and change of Thedas at large. He knows he’s an elf (but he states, I’m not a spirit (like the ancient elves), he grows to represent the change of the Grey Wardens. We see this in the flowers found by Rook, Evka, and Antoine under all the Blight that begin to grow in the Wetlands. We see this in how Flynn, the healer from Lavendel, uses the Blight to sense it in their patients; we see it in the changes of the Calling and how for some Wardens in the midst of their hearing the call - it stopped. We see it in the narrative end of the Blight (“the Blight to End all Blights” because no more archdemons = no more gods = no more elven god related blight); we hear it from Antoine who says the song of the Blight is changing and healing.

This man is built up to be a narrative parallel of the light and hope that comes with the changes in the Grey Wardens, the Elves, and the world of Thedas at large (without the Blight), and I stand by that. Not only do the Griffons represent change, and the Grey Wardens changing their purpose, but Davrin is the light that leads the way for a greater and more positive future for Thedas, in all of his parts that make him whole, connecting Thedas’s past and flaws, to the prospects of a better future. And for that, DATV told an incredibly powerful story through him (and his beautiful brown eyes).

If you managed to read all of this, I appreciate you. <3 If you liked this, I yap a lot on twitter, bluesky, and elsewhere, and draw doodles and things of my ocs (including my rook zen, davrin, and my solavellen) plus gladio from FFXV (and my oc, persephone). Please feel free to drop into my DMs or inbox!!

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mreowsu · 6 months ago

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—woke up to a multitude of notifs from the previous one, it appears to have been well-recieved. in return, here is a thank you from me :)

BANGS — part two · SECRET RENDEZVOUS

summary · it didn't take long for friends and family back home to hear of you and sae's rendezvous in spain, and boy they are not happy. cw · itoshi sae x fem!reader, both are 14-15, profanities, itoshi rin appearance yay, fluff wc · 4.1k

The ride back to the academy dorms was uneventful, save for the occasional celebratory chatter from the boys' team. You had tagged along on their bus after the match—what? Belonging to the female Re Al team, how could they possibly refuse their up and coming female striker?

Seated a few rows ahead of you, Sae kept his usual quiet, earbuds in and his focus elsewhere.

Your phone buzzed relentlessly in your pocket. Notifications piled up, missed calls and texts flashing one after another. You tried to ignore it, brushing it off as hopefully post-game excitement and congratulatory messages to be passed to Sae for those that couldn’t reach him. But once the bus pulled into the academy grounds, the increasing persistence became impossible to overlook.

Everyone got off the bus, leaving you and Sae to walking side-by-side homeward to the dorms. Sae barely spared you a glance as you sighed and pulled your phone out, scrolling through the chaos. The screen lit up with an endless flood of notifications—mentions, retweets, likes—your feed practically bursting at the seams.

It didn’t take long for the stunt you pulled to spread like wildfire. With cameras and the media stationed all over the stadium, both you and him in your little world had been immortalized from all possible perspectives.

X (or twt?) was most especially on fire.

“Did y’all see the way she just touched his hair? 😭” “Japan’s prodigies or Spain’s new power couple?” “The power she holds. I’m in shambles. Goodbye.” “#Hair goalz” “Sae is so real, I mean, if I were to be sweating with people watching, I’d want to look my best” “I dunno if I wanna be him or her” “Guys, may I remind you all that these are 14 year olds??”—

You scrolled further, only to be greeted by memes that sent a fresh wave of horror washing over you. Screenshots of Sae’s faintly pink ears were captioned with things like, “Bros blush is heard around the world” and “BREAKING NEWS: Japan’s prodigy caught slipping.”

Your personal favorite (if you could call it that) was a photo of you brushing back his bangs, captioned:

“Y/N L/N, certified hairdresser for future world cup winner LMFAOOOO”

“Ugh,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why do they have to make memes out of everything?”

Sae’s gaze flicked to your phone for a second before he returned his attention to the road ahead. “You’re surprised?”

You sighed, shoving the phone into your pocket. “No, but I can’t believe they got that angle.”

“They got every angle,” Sae replied dryly, his tone as flat as ever.

Your steps slowed as you neared the dorms. You pulled out your phone again, scrolling through the messages until you found one that made your blood run cold.

You paled.

Among the sea of notifications was one from your mother. Her text was simple yet loaded:

Mom: “Call me. Now.”

All thoughts of internet chaos evaporated as you stared at your mother’s menacing message. The bold lettering glared ominously at you through the screen, carrying more weight than it had any right to.

You groaned, slumping against Sae’s side with all the subtlety of a boulder rolling downhill. His body stiffened at the sudden contact, and his eyes darted toward you, a flicker of annoyance crossing his usually impassive face.

How had she even managed to make two words sound so menacing? “How did she even make it bold?” you muttered under your breath, staring at the text like it might explain itself. You held the phone up for emphasis, and for your companion to see. “Where did she get the bold font? Why is it in bold?” You cried.

He sighed, his lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. “Maybe she just wants you to call her.”

“No kidding, genius,” you shot back, glaring at him for his unhelpfulness. “But it’s scary when it’s in the bold font.”

Sae rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about your overreaction before leaning just far enough to escape your weight. “Just call her already.”

You groaned again, dragging yourself upright and glaring at your phone one last time. “If I don’t survive this call, tell her it was because of the bold font.”

Sae’s expression didn’t budge, but you caught the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll send flowers to your funeral.”

You shot him a glare, “very funny.”

Resigning yourself to your fate, you tapped the call button and braced for impact. The line barely rang twice before your mother’s voice burst through.

“You’re too young for this nonsense!” she started, her tone a mix of exasperation and concern. “You went to Spain to play football, not to… to… canoodle!! Do you know how many relatives have called me asking what’s going on between the two of you?!”

You couldn’t hold back a laugh at her tone, though you quickly tried to stifle it, but upon realizing what she just said, your face heated up.

“It wasn’t like that!” you protested.

“Then why does it look like that?!” she snapped back.

You groaned, running a hand down your face. “It’s just the media blowing things out of proportion. Sae and I are just friends.”

Friends. The word tasted bitter, foreign, almost hollow when it came to you. But were you guys really? It didn't quite fit the shape of what your relationship had become. It didn’t feel right—not with the way he always lingered just a little too long by your side, or the way your heart skipped at his smallest actions. Hearing the word friends, Sae would be lying if he said he didn't so much as feel an undeniable pang in his chest.

Neither of you said anything more, or lack-thereof, though. The moment passed like a fleeting shadow.

“Good,” she said, but her tone didn’t soften. “Now go find him. He’s not getting out of this.”

“MOM!” you exclaimed, your voice shooting up an octave in sheer disbelief.

“You’re in it together. If you’re getting scolded, so is he. That’s how teamwork works.”

“I don’t think that’s how teamwork works.”

“Don’t argue with me,” she snapped through gritted teeth. “Go find him. Now.”

You stared at your phone, utterly baffled, before slumping with an exasperated groan. “How does she do that?” you muttered.

Sae, who had been observing your side of the conversation with mild interest, raised an eyebrow when you lowered the phone.

“Well?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. “Do what?”

“She sounds bold-lettered again,” you complained, gesturing dramatically at the phone. “Like, how does she make it sound like that? Bold and threatening all at once? Is this a skill all mothers have?”

“Maybe you should just listen to her,” Sae deadpanned.

You glared at him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “She wants—”

Just then, the unthinkable happened. Your mother, seemingly defying all odds and cellphones, suddenly went on speaker without warning, her voice ringing out loud and clear.

“I can hear him, let me talk to him now!” She demanded, the exclamation marks practically visible in her tone. “NOW!”

“—to yell at you too.”

You froze, and he blinked, looking at the device in your hand, utterly unfazed. “You know,” Sae began, his voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness, “I think this is a good time for me to leave.”

You turned to glare at him, pulling him back toward you with a surprising amount of force, making him stumble slightly.

“Get back here!” you hissed, your hand still gripping his arm as he tried to step away. “You’re not leaving me to face her alone!”

Sae, who had been halfway through his dorm, sighed. “You’re not exactly giving me much of a choice.”

But you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. With a determination, you pulled him back outside the room, holding the phone between the two of you as your mother’s voice filled the space.

“You both are in so much trouble!” Your mother practically shouted from the phone, her frustration evident. “I should’ve known something was going on when I saw the media coverage. I’m not having my kids make headlines for this!”

Sae, who had remained unfazed so far, leaned casually against the wall, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable expression. “I didn’t make headlines. That’s all on you,” he teased lightly.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his response. "What the hell do you mean? You literally walked toward me with a fucking spotlight on your head!"

“WATCH THAT TONGUE—I’m not done with this nonsense!”

You shot him a warning look, silently begging him not to make it worse. But that only seemed to entertain him more.

“Look, I get it,” you said, speaking directly into the phone, trying to regain some control of the situation. “It’s not a big deal, okay? Like I said, it’s just the media blowing things out of proportion.”

“I don’t care about the media! I care about you two being sensible!” your mother’s voice cracked a little, clearly not impressed by your attempt to defuse the situation. “Now, Sae, you better not be leading my child astray. I want you both to keep your heads in the game.”

Without a word, you shoved the phone toward Sae, who had barely reacted to the situation. He shot you a look, you mouthed: ‘she’s talking to you’. You gestured dramatically at ‘you’.

He stared at the device like it was an inconvenience, but eventually took it, his usual indifference in place.

You were both just standing there, patiently, albeit strained, waiting in silence for the next round of scolding from your mother when a new, unmistakable voice entered the boxing ring somewhere in the background.

You both froze. Sae nearly dropped the phone, his grip faltering. You couldn't help but snicker at the rare look on his face. The last thing you expected was to hear that sweet but dangerously knowing voice—his mother, unmistakably. That sweet but unnerving voice was enough to snap him out of whatever bravado he'd been putting on. He looked at the phone as though it might bite him.

“Hi, Mrs. L/n, is my son on the line? I’d like to talk to him,” she said again, though the distance made it sound muffled, like she was halfway across the room.

Sae had managed to escape his parents’ wrath for a while, but that was about to change, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit victorious.

His brow furrowed, unable to mask his surprise. Sae ran a hand through his hair with a resigned sigh, clearly not surprised by the turn of events. "Of course," he muttered under his breath, the weight of it all sinking in. "My family would have contacted yours the moment they caught wind of whatever the hell the two of us were doing in Spain."

You raised an eyebrow at his comment, crossing your arms with a knowing smile. "Oh, so you knew this was coming?"

He looked at you with a dry smirk. "I mean, it's not like we were exactly being subtle, huh?" he added, his usual smugness creeping back into his tone. "It wasn’t my fault you decided to get all touchy in front of the cameras."

You glared at him with all your might, but your argument died on your tongue, clearly defeated. "Unbelievable," you muttered.

The phone crackled slightly, and then his mother’s voice came through.

"Hello?"

The both of you stayed silent, catching each other's staring before you took the liberty to answer. "Hello?" you greeted, your voice slightly uncertain.

"Ah, Y/n, so sorry for the sudden intrusion," Sae’s mother chimed in, her voice full of sweetness, but you knew carried a weight behind it. Locked and loaded, reserved to open fire only at Sae. "My son is always so unpredictable… He’s not giving you any trouble, is he?"

You couldn’t help but grin. “No trouble at all, I promise.”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end, but it didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Well, I do hope he’s keeping you focused. I did hear something about hairdressers…” She trailed off, clearly referencing the media frenzy from earlier. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I trust you to take care of each other.”

You blinked in surprise. The sudden shift from the playful teasing to genuine concern caught you off guard, but you did your best to play it cool. “We’re doing fine, really.”

“I’m sure you are, darling,” she continued, her voice warm, but there was an undeniable edge to it. “Just remember to keep your heads in the game. I want you both succeeding, not making headlines for nonsense.”

You glanced at Sae, who was clearly pretending not to listen. “Don’t worry, we’re focusing on football,” you reassured, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to hear,” she said, her tone finally lightening up. "From you, atleast."

You raised an eyebrow at her words, catching the subtle jab aimed at Sae. You could feel his irritation radiating off him, though his face betrayed nothing more than a slight twitch of his brow. Smirking, you mouthed; 'you’re not off the hook yet.'

Then her voice came through the speaker again, calm but firm. “Now, darling, be a dear and hand the phone over to Sae. I’d like a word with my son.”

Your grin widened. “Of course,” you said sweetly, holding the phone out to him. “It’s for you.”

Sae sighed, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “Tell her I’m not here,” he muttered.

“Pretty sure she already knows you are,” you replied, shaking the phone for emphasis. “No escaping this one, superstar.”

He shot you one last glare. "You’re not gonna let me forget this, are you?"

“Not a chance,” you replied, your grin widening as he took the phone from your hands. “But hey, at least now we know what happens when you get too cocky.”

Sae let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly resigned to all this. His usual deflection didn’t work as well this time.

He lifted the phone to his ear, "Hi, Mom." He muttered, trying his best to sound nonchalant, but his posture had stiffened. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Don’t you “Hi, Mom” me, ITOSHI SAE!” his mother’s voice finally snapped. “What’s this nonsense I’m hearing about you two? Running around Spain causing a spectacle for the media, playing to their little games!?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “So she’s got the bold font superpower too, huh?” you muttered mostly to yourself, but loud enough for also him to hear. The sheer power of that 'ITOSHI SAE' was like a force of nature.

His teal eyes hardened, shooting you a glare, his discomfort obvious, but you could tell he wasn’t used to this level of public embarrassment. His mother had always been a force to be reckoned with, but now she was using her bold-letter power on him too. “It’s not like that,” he started, his voice dry and flat. “We’re just—”

“No excuses, Sae. I’ve seen the footage. I’ve heard the rumors. You’re not going to get away with this one. Not while I’m around,” she interrupted, her voice unyielding.

You leaned against the doorframe, biting back a laugh as his mother’s voice carried through the speaker, scolding him in rapid-fire Japanese. Sae’s expression didn’t change, though his lips pressed into a thin line.

After a few minutes, he handed the phone back to you. “She’s done,” he said flatly, though the faint pink tint to his ears gave him away.

You took the phone, grinning. “She gave you the ‘focus on football, not nonsense’ speech, didn’t she?”

“She’s very thorough,” he deadpanned.

“Welcome to my world,” you said with a shrug, bringing your phone on speaker to bid your farewells.

Your mother’s voice came through the speaker, her tone still a little sharp. “Sae, this better not happen again…”

Sae braced himself, his expression turning completely blank as he muttered a weak greeting. “Hi, Ma'am.” He visibly straightened, his usual confidence momentarily chipped away by the dual maternal interrogation.

“Sae, behave,” his mother chimed in. “And don’t get each other in trouble. I’m trusting you to be the responsible one here. You should know better.”

Your mother didn’t miss a beat, her tone taking on a teasing edge. “Exactly. Boys are supposed to protect, not cause chaos. How could you let this happen under your watch, Sae?”

You shot a glance at Sae, his face betrayed none of the usual confidence, just a tense concentration.

You bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing a grin as Sae’s blank expression barely wavered, save for the faintest furrow of his brow. His mother’s voice, now layered with a hint of amusement, added to the jab. “Honestly, Sae, I thought you were more sensible than this. I expected better from you.”

You could almost hear the corners of your mother’s mouth curve up. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m taking care of it,” she replied with a playful note. “You know how it is with these kids—they think they’re invincible.”

Despite the constant jabs, you knew Sae wasn’t the type to let anything truly reckless happen—not to you, not to himself. If anything, he was the one who kept everything grounded, often steering things back on track. Yet here he was, taking the brunt of both mothers’ wrath, enduring their playful scolding like the stoic shield he was.

Sae sighed quietly, and you nudged his arm gently. “Hey, just look at it this way—you’re their golden boy, hm?”

Sae's teal eyes rolled a sideways glance at you, his lips twitching as though he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

"Well, Y/n.." His mother trailed off. “Please make sure my son is behaving himself. He has a tendency to… push boundaries when he thinks no one’s watching.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden turn of the conversation. “Uh, I’ll do my best?” you replied hesitantly, shooting a glance at Sae, who looked thoroughly unimpressed.

“And one more thing,” she added, her voice firm but tinged with an almost playful seriousness. “Don’t let him get away with anything when it comes to you. Don’t let him have his way, understand?”

Your face flushed instantly, the implication of her words hitting you like a freight train. “W-Wait, what—”

Sae, who had been silently enduring the conversation, finally turned his head sharply toward the phone, his ears turning a suspicious shade of pink. “Mom.” He interjected, his tone low and warning.

But his mother was undeterred. “Oh, don’t ‘Mom’ me, Sae! I mean it." Then, his mother released a sigh. “It’s just.. the two of you are out there in Spain... no one else can keep an eye on you. Be rational, okay? Don’t give us a reason to fly over there and check on you myself.”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, despite the heat still burning your cheeks. “Noted, Mrs. Itoshi. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sae groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you done?”

“For now,” she replied smoothly. “I’m just making sure things are in order. Y/n, thank you for putting up with him. You’re a saint.”

Sae muttered something under his breath, “unbelievable.”

You snorted. “Of course, Mrs. Itoshi. Someone's gotta bash him in his head from time to time.”

Even with his mom’s playful but pointed implication, you knew better. Sae would never do anything out of line with you, nor anything that would make you uncomfortable. For all his aloofness and sharp edges, he’d always been careful around you—attentive in his own way.

The thought softened the embarrassment lingering in your chest, and you glanced at him, his hand still dragging down his face as he muttered under his breath despite his irritation.

“But don’t think I won’t call again if I hear more nonsense.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath at the thought, but the tension didn’t seem to break on Sae’s side. He eventually muttered, “We'll do our best, Mom, Mrs. L/n.”

“Good,” Sae’s mom said firmly, a slight note of relief in her voice. There was a faint shuffling sound on the other end, like the phone being passed, until your mother’s voice entered the conversation. “I trust you’ll both be on your best behavior.”

You chimed in quickly, trying to get the conversation over with. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Itoshi, Mom. We’ll keep things in check.”

Your mother let out a hum of approval. “Good. And remember, we’re just a call away if you need a reminder.”

“Duly noted,” you replied with a nervous laugh, glancing at Sae.

With that, the call ended, leaving you standing there, Sae released an exasperated sigh and immediately dropped his shoulders in relief. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Sae shook his head, stepping back into his room. “Next time, leave me out of it.”

You smiled. Despite the scolding and the embarrassment, there was something undeniably comforting about moments like these—a reminder of home, even when you were miles away.

You were about to turn and leave when something inside you decided it wasn’t time to bail just yet. You stepped forward, casually walking right past Sae into his room before the door could fully shut behind him.

Sae froze, slitted eyes widening in surprise. “What—”

You shrugged again, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “No reason. Just hanging around.”

Before he could protest, a sudden ring cut through the air. The sound was familiar, but louder than usual. You glanced at Sae, eyebrow raised, but his face shifted quickly from surprise to annoyance as he grabbed his phone.

“Who’s calling you now?” you asked, leaning back against his desk as he answered the phone.

At first, Sae’s face was unreadable, but then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You could hear his voice, but just barely. You noticed and gave a slight smirk. “Guess it’s your turn for Rin’s wrath.”

Rin. The name was almost like a curse for Sae—he loved his brother, of course, but when it came to their sibling dynamics, it was always a bit chaotic.

You couldn’t help but lean in, curiosity piqued. Expecting his mom to be back on the line, you were caught off guard when Sae’s little brother spoke up from the other end.

“Hey, nii-chan,” Rin’s voice sounded loud and clear, filled with that usual mix of child-like wonder and boyish innocence. “I’m hearing things from the media again... What’s going on with you and Y/n? You two are seriously causing a stir.”

Sae’s face flushed even more, a mix of frustration and, if you were reading him right, embarrassment.

“You’re already hearing about that, huh?” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Of course I am!” Rin responded, completely unbothered by his brother’s apparent discomfort. “But seriously, are you two that close now? Should I be worried?”

You almost snorted at the lighthearted tone in Rin’s voice. It was all teasing, but there was an undertone of real curiosity—or maybe just a little bit of jealousy? You couldn’t help but smirk at how Rin always found ways to poke fun at Sae, no matter how far apart they were.

Sae didn’t answer right away, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment as he sighed. “Just... keep your nose out of this, Rin.”

You snickered at his reaction, walking closer and casually sitting down on Sae’s bed, still enjoying his discomfort. You decided to butt in, taking hold of his phone.

“Hey, Rin—”

“Y/n! What in the world are you two doing over there?” Rin’s voice came through sharp.

“Uh, playing football?” you tried, his sudden change in tone was something you weren’t expecting, but has anything ever went your way ever for the past day?

“You know what I mean,” he whined. “I can’t go five minutes without seeing some clip of you two looking… weird! People are saying stuff!”

You leaned back against the headboard, glancing at Sae, who had now propped himself up on one elbow on his desk, silently listening. “Rin, it’s nothing. The media’s just exaggerating.”

“Oh, really? Because it doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ when she’s running her hands through your hair, Sae,” Rin shot, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

Sae, finally engaging, sat up and snatched his phone from your hand, holding it to his ear. “What’s your problem, Rin?” he asked bluntly.

“My problem?” Rin’s voice grew louder. “My problem is that you two are over there acting all… close, while I’m stuck here dealing with everything alone!”

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Sae sighed. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not like we’re having fun. We’re working, just like you.”

“You don’t get it,” Rin muttered, his voice quieter now. “You both left. And it’s… it’s hard seeing you two together there. Without me.”

Your chest ached at his words. Taking the phone back, you softened your tone. “Rin, we miss you, too. It’s hard for us here, you know that. But we’ll come back—this isn’t forever.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, though it sounded half-hearted. “Just… stop making headlines, okay? It’s embarrassing.”

You laughed, and even Sae’s lips twitched upward. “No promises,” you teased, earning a low groan from Rin before he hung up.

As you set the phone aside, Sae leaned back against his desk-chair, arms crossed. “He’s such a pain,” he muttered, though there was a faint fondness in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. “But he’s our pain.”

“Whatever, I want you out of my room before dinner time. I have to take a shower.”

“Bleh!”

“💢💢💢”

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